2014 Scary Stories

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SCARY STORIES

2014

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Page 2- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014

Mr. Bear’s Parlor

By Maeve Heumann

I wasn’t usually a sucker for dares, but maybe for this one in particular, I was more curious than brave as I faced my challenge. Yet I was sure that I was going to need some bravery for this mission my dear buddy Jack sent me on.

It all started on a weekend camping trip in the woods, and he began to tell me about this old restaurant he used to work at as we sat around the fire.

“It was super creepy,” he told me, “There were animal animatronics that were on this stage to entertain the guests. The employees always fought about who would take the nightshift, they were so scared. The place was old and falling apart in the first place, before….” He paused to impale a marshmallow with a stick.

“Before what?” I asked. He looked up at me in disbelief.

“You know…the accident.”

When I continued to stare at him with a puzzled expression, he rolled his eyes and continued. “About a year after I quit, the place shut down with no explanation. It was abandoned in the woods about an hour south of here. They said it was an accident that happened to one of the employees that got them shut down, but everyone knows better.”

He looked up at me with a grim expression and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, “It was a murder.”

I laughed nervously and shoved him playfully, “Jack, quit pulling my leg. That did not happen.” He smiled back at me, “Oh yes it did, dude. I’m not kidding. The place is probably still standing!” I raised my eyebrows, “Oh yah? What was this place called?”

He shook his head and answered, “Mr. Bear’s Parlor. Yah, I know, I don’t understand why I agreed to work there so don’t give me that look. You know what? If you’re so interested in that old place, why don’t you go and take a look around yourself?”

At first I laughed at the idea, but then he kept going, “I dare you,” he said, “Go there and look around and take some pictures. Unless you’re a chicken!” He continued to mock me until, for some reason, I agreed.

So that’s where I am now; driving down an overgrown road to this weird restaurant for some pictures and a good story to tell my friends. My headlights finally found the building through the dark of the evening. It was an old, rotten building that looked like it was built to resemble a log cabin. Vines had slithered their way up the walls, and the forest seemed to have consumed the building, with leaves and plants growing from the broken windows and poison ivy spilling out onto the sidewalk and front porch. There was a huge statue of a bear with a goofy grin that held a sign that read “Mr. Bear’s Parlor”.

I grabbed my flashlight and camera from the passenger seat and left the safety of the truck and ventured into the night. I was able to avoid the poison ivy as I made my way to the closed front door. The windows in it were grimy and the wood was rotting, with rolls police tape saying “Caution” that crossed an X over the center. I tried the knob, and, surprisingly, it was open. I swatted away spider webs as I let myself in.

Inside, there was a mess. The main dining area had only a few tables and chairs, many of which were toppled over. Over to the side there was a small arcade room, but many of the screens were smashed in, leaving dark empty holes in the consoles. A claw machine was lying on its side, spilling out its prizes onto the floor. Among the broken glass there were a few stuffed animals, some of which had their heads ripped off. I held up my camera and took a picture of the sight. There was a blinding

flash of light as the camera flashed.

I looked back at the dining room and saw for the first time the stage that Jack had talked about. It was empty, though, no animatronics in sight. I crossed the room to get a better look, but then I realized with a start that there were markings and broken cords and wires coming out of floor of the wooden stage where the robot animals should have been. Someone had torn the robot animals out of their spots on the stage.

I took another picture and hastily began to look around. It didn’t feel right in here. It felt as thought I was disturbing an ancient burial ground, someplace sacred.

I found the double doors that lead to the kitchen, but they were locked. I peered through the small, grimy window in the door. Inside, I saw a normal kitchen, but what was weird was that everything seemed to be exactly in place, as though the restaurant had been abandoned mere minutes ago. All the utensils in their spots, all the frying pans hung neatly in a row, some still on the stove. I could see a carrot that was in the midst of being cut still lying on the cutting board, though they looked rather brown and moldy. Everything looked as though everyone had dropped everything at a moment’s notice. I snapped another photo, but you really couldn’t see much in it, due to my poor view through the small, dirty window.

I explored further, but there was not much left to find. Then, I discovered steps that lead down to a pair of rusty, metal double doors. There was a sign that read “Employees Only” and there was a rusty padlock and chains around the handles. I debated with myself whether or not to try to get it, but then I realized that there was a monkey wrench lying on the floor of the arcade room that I saw earlier that could easily break the rusty chains. I ran upstairs and got it, and returned to the door.

I slammed the wrench on the chains, making a huge clatter that echoed off the creaky walls and made my hairs stand on end. It took 3 hits to break the chain, after which it fell to the floor with a rattle. I gripped my flashlight and slowly creaked open the door.

Inside, the lights were on, but only in one part of the room, concealing the other half in shadow. I quickly hurried to the lit side, and realized that I was in a dressing room for the mascots and employees. Along the concrete wall lung about 20 silver hooks, each one had a costume hanging on it; large- headed mascots of forest animals. I could see bears, birds, rabbits, turtles, squirrels, and even foxes. There were pipes that slithered along the ceiling, and odd red stains that were splattered across the floor. As studied the costumes, I decided it would be a pretty cool photo if I took one of the heads and placed it alone on the floor..

I selected the head of a rabbit and lifted up its head and I held it up. I stared into the large, blank eyes for moment.

Crash!

The sound makes me jump 3 feet in the air and makes my heart stop cold. I am still holding the severed rabbit head, but I slowly look at what had crashed beneath it. I immediately recognize the shattered pieces of bone.

The broken pieces of a human scull.

I stifle a scream as I look frantically back at the rabbit head, now empty. I don’t even dare look in the actual body of the mascot. Then, I slowly turn my head and gaze at the long row of mascot costumes hanging on their silver hooks.

I hear a rustle come from behind me that makes me drop the rabbit head and whip around. The head bounced on the floor, scattering the skull pieces. In the shadows, I see a looming figure, slowly emerging from the darkness. I back away, until I feel the moldy fur of the mascot rabbit’s body. The figure keeps advancing slowly towards the light.

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Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 3 Continued from previous page Then suddenly, I see the tip of a nose, then a snout covered in brown fur. A bear walks into the light, but not just any bear, an animated-looking bear walking on its hind legs. It is wearing an ugly bowtie and a top hat. His eyes roll around in his head, and he has a goofy smile plastered on his face.

Following the bear, a huge rabbit with big blue bow, a squirrel with spectacles, and an owl with a vest and monocle emerge from the shadows and all have the same goofy, permanent smile on their faces. They are all about 6 feet tall, and continue to walk towards me.

I stand there in petrified silence, and then they stop and stand there, all of their blank, emotionless eyes on me. I stare back, eyes wide, as a million thoughts run though my head. Are they people in costumes? They had to be. There was no other explanation.

Did they do this to these people? Suddenly it dawned on me what the strange red strains on the floor were. But, I thought, the doors leading in here were padlocked from the outside. So somebody must have locked them in here, with all these people….

There is about a ten second pause, everything is deadly silent.

I continue to stare at them, and they stare back. Then, without warning, the bear in the front let out a deafening roar and suddenly sprinted towards me.

I stood, frozen. I would have died that day if the bear hadn’t tripped on the rabbit head. He fell face-foreword, and his head popped off with a sickening crash. It skittered across the floor, goofy grin and all, and revealed what was really in the body. An arrangement of cogs and gears were displayed from the open body. Many on them scattered across the floor, like the head.

Now that the head was removed, you could hear the sound of the machinery at work, it sounded like a muffled chainsaw. I

stared, disbelieving, at the pulsing machine. It wasn’t a costume.

My mind flashed back to the empty stage, with the missing animatronics.

I look back up at the other robots, who stayed exactly where they were, as if in shock of the death of their leader. I took this opportunity to run. I sprinted out the open door, leaving them behind. I ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time. I ran across the dining room and out the door. I didn’t look back. I didn’t think. I ran for my life, if not my sanity.

I started the car and peeled out of there, plowing down the beaten, overgrown road and through the misty fog.

I’m not usually one to take dares, but I only did this one out of curiosity. I didn’t realize until I was back at home that I had dropped the camera in the mascot room. I have no way to prove what I saw, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I broke the lock, leaving the door wide open for them to escape. Someone chained that door shut to keep them from getting out, and someone spread the story of an”accident’ to keep people like me from getting in.

The Fatal Night

By Kennison Adams

Sophie sat in her room furiously tapping away on her phone.

After going over her monthly phone bill, Sophie was grounded.

Not just grounded from hanging out with friends, but grounded from going to the coolest Halloween party of the year, and it was unfair!

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Page 4- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from previous page After sitting on her phone and texting her friends how unfair it was for 3 hours, Sophie was fed up. She decided to sneak out of the house and go to that party, assuming the only punishment, if she got caught, was being grounded again. Sophie waited anxiously in the driveway for one of her friends to pick her up. It was a perfect Halloween night. The moon was full, the air was cool and leaves were vibrant colors as they dotted the soon bare trees. As Sophie’s friend’s car pulled up into the driveway, Sophie glanced back at the house, and hopped in.

When they arrived at the party, all of Sophie’s disobedient guilt evaporated from her body. The party was spooktacular and Sophie had the time of her life! Sophie glanced at her phone seeing the 6 missed calls from her parents. She discarded them, knowing they’d only be full of yelling and lecturing. At about 2:30 AM, Sophie and her friend decided to head home.

That’s the last thing Sophie remembered as she woke up the next morning. Sophie felt fatigued when she woke up but still rolled out of bed and headed downstairs. When she got down there, her mom was in the kitchen. Sophie prepared herself for a lecture and headed in. “Mom, have you seen my phone?”

Sophie questioned. Her mom didn’t respond or even turn to face her. “That’s odd…” Sophie questioned in her mind as she left the kitchen. Usually her mom would lecture till she was blue in the face, but not today. Sophie shrugged off her mom’s reaction and headed downstairs, were her dad was working in his office. Once again, he didn’t respond to Sophie’s presence at all. Agitated by her parents’ new “punishment” method of the silent treatment, Sophie headed upstairs to watch TV. The first channel she came to was the news. Sophie decided to watch as a new story appeared. They story told that in her town the night

before, there was a fatal car crash at about 2:45 AM. Two teenage girls died as the car ran off the road and into a ditch where it then caught on fire. Just as Sophie was about to turn off this heart wrenching news, the news station stated they were going to release the names of the two girls after a commercial break.

Sophie sat waiting for the news to return. She tried to recall if any of her friends were possible victims of the crash. Sophie quickly got a headache trying to recall the night before. As the news returned, Sophie sat anxiously. After the news gave more details about the crash, they pulled up two pictures of the girls who died. Sophie gasped in shock as her picture appeared on the screen. Sophie had died the night before in that fatal crash.

No wonder her parents didn’t respond to her and she couldn’t recall the night before. Sophie was a dead ghost who wasn’t at peace and she would now always be nothing more.

Bumps in the Dark

By Jessie Chappel I never believed in the supernatural. Ghosts and hauntings were just something that people made up for attention and I wanted no part of it. But I’m sure the fact that I was so adamant about them not existing is what made them think they needed to prove to me that they did.

Just like all other scary stories it was a dark, stormy night and blah blah blah. Let’s just skip to the part where something interesting actually happened. I was at Walmart picking up some stuff for a birthday party I was going to later on in the week.

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Page 6- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from Page 4 I was in the card section when suddenly the power went out all across the store. This didn’t faze me though. I mean after all isn’t that what happens when there’s heavy storms?

I wasn’t really interested in standing around waiting for them to fix it, so I decided to head for the doors and just come back another time. When I got to the front the doors wouldn’t open.

Duh, it was an automatic door and the power was out. Using my phone as a flashlight I went looking for an emergency exit door that I could just open manually. After searching for about 10 minutes I finally found one and proceeded to try to push it open. It wouldn’t budge. It was as if someone had boarded it up from the outside so that people couldn’t get out. This made me a little uneasy, but I figured I was no worse off than everyone else around me. When suddenly I realized, I hadn’t see or heard anyone in the whole store since the power went out.

I searched for a while and was calling out names in search of someone. Still no answer, when I heard a crash coming from the opposite side of the store. I ran over there slightly scared, but hopeful that I would find someone. No luck. There wasn’t a single person over there. However, there was a pile of something sticky that I was standing in. I shined my flashlight on the floor and saw “You’re nextttttt” written in some type of red liquid.

At this point, I was terrified. Everything else that I believed in was gone and I was scared for my life. I bolted from that area and sprinted to the back of the store where they keep all the weapons. I was camped out back in a corner while slowly but surely crashes were coming closer and closer to me.

Unable to come up with a legitimate plan, I started to accept that this might be my final night. A giant flash of lightening came through the window, illuminating the store for a split second. I didn’t like what I saw. I saw a somewhat translucent

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figure that’s face looked like it was filled with more sorrow than I had seen in my entire life. Although I was scared out of my mind, I almost felt a slight connection to whatever that mysterious figure was.

I decided I had to try the emergency doors one last time. I bolted toward the door in a final effort and to my great surprise and luck the doors flung open. I ran out to my car and drove off as fast I could. As I sit at home now I can’t help but wonder if the spirit let me off the hook, or is planning for greater revenge.

CandyHand

By Josie Arnett It was Halloween today, and Liam already had a plan for this year. Last year while trick-or-treating, he had reached in to grab a piece of candy only to be scared by the hand inside the bowl that grabbed him through a hole in the bottom. These bowls had been very popular, the ultimate way to scare kids, and he had come up with a plan to scare back the adults.

As we walked down the street he adjusted a fake hand he had convinced his mom to buy him earlier that day. His plan was simple and harmless: reach his arm in, fake hand and all, and let the fake hand be grabbed. He would then reach in with his real hand and grab the adult’s! He thought the plan was genius and was sure to scare back the adults. He believed this was the ultimate prank.

Liam approached the first house. A bigger, middle-aged man named Mr. Merk answered the door.

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 7 Continued from previous page They went through the whole trick or treat thing but all Liam could notice was that he had the special bowl. You see, these bowls were very popular right now, all over any store, and if you looked closely it was easy to see the hand on the side of the bowl was fake so that the carrier’s real had was on the inside.

After Liam noticed the fake hand he smiled; he was so excited to pull his joke! He looked up at the man and fearlessly stuck his hand in the bowl to grab a piece of candy. His fake hand was pulled and he reached his real hand in and grabbed Mr. Merk’s hand. Mr. Merk’s eyes went wide for a second and then they both laughed as Liam pulled out his fake hand, said thank you, and walked on.

He did this for many more houses down the block. It worked every time and Liam was so happy. At the end of the block he came to Miss. Keeney’s house. Miss Keeney was a young woman who lived by herself at the end of the road. She was very pretty and probably in her early thirties. She seemed normal enough although Liam had never really seen her around, well, anywhere. But there she was, standing at her door with a bowl of candy, although no children were around to be seen.

Liam walked up and said “Happy Halloween, Miss Keeney.”

He reached his hand in and waited for it to be grabbed. He looked up at Miss Keeney and she raised an eyebrow at him.

He looked at her bowl; it didn’t have a fake hand on it or hole anywhere to be seen. As Liam realized this he, embarrassingly took his fake hand out of the bowl and switched hands so he could actually grab a piece of candy.

As he reached his normal hand in the bowl he felt it get grabbed! He was so confused but at the same time he was impressed with Miss Keeney and her tricking abilities. He looked up at her with a laugh, only to see her suddenly staring down at him with a stern face. She still had a grip on his hand.

He was confused why she wouldn’t let go and wasn’t laughing with him, but he ignored that and tried to figure out how she pulled of her cool trick instead.

As he felt his hand being tugged and pulled, he said, “Miss Keeney, how did you…”

Halloween Night 

By Ezri Beckmann

I looked up at the dark night sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights.

Candy had been scattered from the little kids tick-or-treating a few hours before. By the looks of it, it seemed to be about 11:00.

I knew I was in for a long adventure home. I had decided that traveling through the corn field would be the quickest way home. It turned out to be the worst decision in the end. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours. The farther I traveled into the field, the darker it seemed to get. The only sound familiar to me was the rapid beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to burst through my chest. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing this long finger shaped shadow that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the field. At least I had hoped that I was.

As the figure became more solid I began to wonder. Will I make it through this corn field tonight or will my parents wake up with one less child? The only sounds I could hear

were sounds from sluggish foot steps that lead me to stop in my place and listen closely. Could this field be haunted or was I just over exaggerating? Then I saw it. A few yards in front of me, stood a scare crow and a wooden stake. It wasnʼt there before and I started to get very nervous. “It will be just fine,” I told myself. I am just imagining things. I continued my journey through the corn field but negative thoughts were running through my head.

I could sense that someone or something was following me.

Every couple steps, I looked behind me, but no one was there.

I assured myself it was nothing. By now I was even closer than before to being out of the haunted field. I started to run. I could feel the breeze blowing my hair back into my face and the corn stalks brushing past me. When I reached the end of the field, I felt a great sigh of relief. But then it happened.

When I looked to the right down the rows of corn, there was nothing, but when I looked to the left, there stood the scare crow, but this time, it wasnʼt on a stake. I knew something was suspicious when I first saw it, but I didnʼt want to think anything of it. I couldnʼt think about this now. I stood there without moving a muscle, my fear taking over me, waiting to see what it would do. It didnʼt move either. I couldnʼt tell if it was a man, but I concluded it was. I looked over to see if I could see my house. It was 5 blocks away. I can make it home, I told myself.

When I turned back, he was gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

I started screaming and sprinted toward my house. When I was about 1 block away, there he was again. I could see his eyes now, and they were all black with hatred in its eyes. He began to creep towards me, but I didnʼt move a muscle. I couldnʼt move. I donʼt know what had gotten to me but I was petrified.

When I finally had the courage, I sprinted the other way. Thatʼs when all of a sudden, he stopped, turned around, and turned into what it looked like 100 crows, and they were mad. I ran as fast as I could, but they were faster. One clenched onto my shoulder, and a searing pain went through me. I was screaming as loud as I could, but no one could hear me. Is this even real?

Twenty of them had surrounded me by now, and all I could do was fall to the ground. I couldnʼt take it anymore. I started to cry and just like that, all of them flew off, except one. This one was twice as big, with big, red piercing eyes, and coming right towards my head. It was now inches from my face. I closed my eyes and wished for the best. And just like that, I woke up with a scream. My mother ran into my room and flipped on the lights. It was all just a dream. Well, more of like a nightmare.

Mrs. Mord

By Clay Schoolman

Heather walked home hesitantly one chilly October evening, feeling the crunch of early-arrived frost beneath her worn shoes. She had walked this road from her best friend’s house countless times, only this night felt slightly peculiar. Her spine tingled with every howl of wind, blowing through bare trees, every rustle of lifeless leaves, and every cry of the ebony crows flying through a moonlit sky. Nestled in all these sounds, she swore she could hear blood-curdling screams. Even the houses lined across the street seemed to blend in with the shadows, for no sign of light or life could be seen from the outside.

Where is everyone tonight??? She thought to herself.

Normally, things were not this lonely at this hour, even this late on a Friday night. Still, she trudged on home, despite the eerie notion that she was being followed.

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Page 8- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from previous page Suddenly, she heard a new sound, a strangely familiar sound, a siren. It grew louder, and louder, until all of a sudden, a red ambulance whizzed by her, lights flashing in a frenzy. “Hey, watch where you're going!” She called out to the vehicle, already much to far away for anybody inside of it to hear her.

Finally, she reached home, relieved to see most of the lights in her house on. However, not only where her own house lights on, but her entire street seemed to have every house light they possibly could have turned on. It wasn’t until her eyes scanned along to the end of the street that she noticed that the same ambulance that had almost ran her over sat parked over at the Mord’s house, along with a horde of police cars. Maybe mom knows something about this… Heather thought to herself, slightly concerned.

She opened her door with a creak and stepped inside to her toasty living room, a satisfying solace from the frigid autumn air. Her house smelled of pumpkin, thanks to a candle she had bought her mother for her birthday and a tender inferno blazed in the fireplace.

“Mom!” she called out, her voice echoing throughout the walls, “Where are you?”

No answer.

“Mom?” she yelled again.

“Thank god you're okay!” came a reply from upstairs.

Her mother came bolting down the stairs, faster than Heather had ever seen her run in her entire life.

“I was worried sick about you, sweetie!” her mother exclaimed, hugging her desperately. “Where have you been?!”

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“Wait, I’m so confused, mom. What are you talking about?”

Heather asked her mother, lost in what was going on.

“You mean, you haven't been watching the news? You have no idea what happened with the Mord’s? Mrs. Mord is a complete wreck right now! I feel awful.”

“No?” “Turn on the news. It’s everywhere! Channel seven would probably be best.”

Heather turned on the news and was astounded at what she saw. Mrs. Mord, the neighbor from down the street, said she came home tonight from work to find her entire house lifeless.

She searched the entire house for her family until she ventured down into the cellar, following a trail of ruby blood, only to discover them murdered.

“They said their bodies were mutilated by some sort of animal because a human could not have done that much damage, but there’s no way that an animal could have gotten into the house, opened the cellar, drug all four of the bodies down there, and stacked them so orderly. After she found them, she called the police, but by then, there was nothing that they could do. I just can’t even imagine,” her mother explained, tears streaming mercilessly down her cheeks.

“That is awful,” Heather replied.

“All right it’s getting late, you should get some rest, honey.”

Heather walked upstairs to go to sleep, watching her mother double-check every door and window lock in the house. *** A few days passed and a sinister glaze had set over the town.

No one spoke much, no one smiled, and people mostly just sulked inside.

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Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 9 Continued from previous page One particular morning, Heather and her mother were baking cookies together when her announced, I want you to take some cookies over to Mrs. Mord. She’s probably not doing very well right now and could use some company. Plus, you're great at cheering people up.”

Heather hesitated for a moment, then agreed that it would be a nice gesture and the right thing to do in this situation. So, she grabbed a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and started on her walk over to Mrs. Mord’s house without any idea what she was going to say. I mean, what does one say to a woman whose family was just murdered?

“Ding-dong,” Heather rang the doorbell.

Nothing.

She rang it again…

Still nothing.

She was just about to turn and leave when suddenly, the door jolted open. Standing there, was a smiling, wide-eyed Mrs. Mord.

“Heather Anne, I haven't seen you in weeks! How’s your mom?” She said inquisitively.

“Oh, I um.. she's fine. How are you doing?” Heather replied, bewildered by Mrs. Mord’s manner and seemingly positive mood.

“I’m doing very well, thank you! I see you brought cookies! I was just about to start a batch, but I can’t seem to find any flour in the kitchen. Do you think you could help me look for some in the cellar? We always keep a few extra bags laying around down there.”

Heather agreed, despite the underlying notion in her conscious that the cellar was where Mrs. Mord’s family was found dead. Why would she want me to go down there with her, let alone, go down there at all? She thought to herself.

Mrs. Mord led her around the outside of the house, towards the cellar door, a heavy wooded, double-bolted, pad-locked entrance. The news was right, Heather thought to herself, There’s no way an animal could have ever gotten this door open.

The peculiarly jolly widow un-locked the door and the two of them descended into the dark, musky cellar. Mrs. Mord stroked her hand across the wall until she found the light switch and turned it on.

Instantaneously, the spooky room was illuminated and Heather could not believe what she saw. The room contained a multitude of shelves all with a sundry amount of boxes, bags, and other items. To the far right of the room, Heather caught a glimpse of the still bloodstained concrete where the bodies must have been stacked by whatever or whomever killed this poor woman’s family.

“It should be on the last shelf to the left,” Mrs. Mord instructed Heather.

Heather approached the shelf cautiously and began to search for any bags that seemed to contain flour. “You know Mrs. Mord,” Heather said sincerely, “I really am sorry about what happen to your family.”

“That’s very polite of you, dear. I’m glad I have you here to keep me company.”

Heather felt a smile grace her face; it felt nice to be doing something good for Mrs. Mord.

Then came a rather odd question from the widow. “Do you think the police will think I did it?” She asked, nervously.

Heather turned around, startled to find Mrs. Mord standing in front of the doorway with a grave look on her face.

“No?” Heather replied, “Why would they think that???”

Mrs. Mord began to walk over to the ruby-stained floor as

she spoke. “It is a very sad thing to lose ones family, you know.

However, I’m not all that torn up about it, actually. I find myself now able to do things that I never could have done with an ornery husband and irritating kids always hanging around.

To tell you the truth, I’m glad that they’re all dead. I HATED them. But that’s quite enough of that, have you found that flour yet? My mouth is just watering for something sweet, so let’s go make those cookies!”

“Mrs. Mord, you never answered my question earlier… Why would the police think you did it, you know, killed your family?” Heather inquired, cautiously.

The widow hesitated for a minute. “Because I did.”

The last thing Heather saw was Mrs. Mord’s suddenly distorted body fly at her with an open mouth filled with fangs.

3:07 a.m.

By Amy Svoboda

Two Nights Ago *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* “No way! Is it already 6:30?” Chelsea mumbled as she went to turn off the alarm. But when she turned, she noticed the clock read 3:07 a.m.

“Hmm, that’s strange.” As Chelsea turned to get up to use the bathroom, she noticed a shadow approaching her from the corner of her room and screamed. That was the last time Chelsea’s parents heard her voice.

Present *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* Kailey grumbled as she turned off her alarm. At least her class wasn’t until 9:00 a.m. Kailey got up to shower, and went on with her day attending her classes at Columbia University then going to work at a local coffee shop.

After getting home late that night, Kailey relaxed on the couch and turned on the television, flipping until she saw something disturbing.

“A young woman by the name of Chelsea Daniels was found this morning, dead in her apartment in Evansville. The police reported her hair had been chopped off, she was bruised and her whole body was swollen. Melanie Collins was found a week ago in her apartment in with similar injuries, and the police believe that these cases are connected. Police believe the cause of death was an injection given to both victims. If anyone has any information on either case, please call 622-97-” Kailey couldn’t watch anymore. She was concerned about the deaths of the two young women who lived near her. She couldn’t shake off this weird feeling she had in her stomach, but she wasn’t going to worry about it too much. Kailey decided to sleep it off.

A couple weeks went by and more women were being found dead. Kailey knew a couple of the more recent women from school and was starting to freak out.

“What if they don’t stop the killer?” Kailey asked her boyfriend Jared.

“Babe, don’t worry. If you’re really that scared, you can stay with me for a couple days.”

“I can’t. I have school, and you live too far from campus.

What if you stayed with me for a little while?” Kailey asked hopefully.

“If it will make you feel safer, fine.” *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* Continued on following page

Page 10- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from previous page “Jared, wake up,” Kailey mumbled into her pillow. “Your alarm is going off.” Jared was a heavy sleeper, but she was too tired to deal with it.

“Oh no, that’s not Jared’s alarm; I set that alarm specifically for you, my pet.” The alarm was clicked off. Kailey sat up instantly, turning to the clock and then towards the voice, now wide awake. The clock read 3:07 a.m.

“How did you get in here?” Kailey shrieked.

“Shhh my pet, no questions. Follow me out of the bedroom please,” the voice, decidedly male, spoke softly.

“No! Why would I leave with you? Who are you? How did you get inside my apartment? Why are you here?” Kailey rattled off questions getting more and more frightened. The man slapped a hand over her mouth and yanked her hair. Kailey screamed, but it was muffled by his gloved hand.

“I said no more questions,” he growled into her ear. With that he pulled her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, the farthest room away from her bedroom.

Kailey prayed Jared would wake up, hear the man and call the police, but she had to save herself. Kailey ran through the ways she could escape in her head, but couldn’t think of anything that would work. She decided to distract him from his plan and buy time for herself.

As he turned her around he spoke, “Do not scream, or I will end your life now.” As Kailey got her first look at the man, she gasped.

“Reed? What are you doing? Why are you trying to hurt me?” Kailey was confused. Reed was her partner in chemistry class two years ago when they were both freshmen at

Colombia. He was quiet and a little different, but overall nice.

They worked well together, until one day, out of nowhere, he asked her out on a date. She politely said no because she was dating Jared. Reed didn’t talk to her as much after that, but they went on as partners in chemistry. Kailey didn’t understand why he would want to kill her. Had she done something wrong?

“Yes, it’s Reed. Don’t act surprised, you know what you did Kailey, what you all did.” Kailey could tell he was starting to get angry.

“Who is ‘us’? Reed, I don’t understand. Please! Just tell me what’s going on.”

“You know what you did! Don’t lie to me! You broke my heart just like all those other girls, and guess what? They’re dead. I killed the three from high school first, then the six from college. You’re lucky number seven. That’s why I chose to kill you all at 3:07 a.m. I thought it was fun little extra detail. But I chose you, my pet, for last. Although you are a heartless monster like the rest, you were also the nicest.”

“Heartless? Reed, I’m sorry but what did I do?”

“You know what you did! I asked you out on a date, and you said no! We were friends. I know you only said know because I’m not good enough for you. So now it’s your turn to be ugly.

You can be just as ugly as you are on the outside as you are on the inside.”

“No, you don’t understand! I only said no because I was dating Jared; I’m still dating Jared! Please Reed, stop!”

“Don’t make excuses with me! I’m stop as stupid as you think.” Reed starting walking towards her, and she started backing up Continued on following page

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Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 11 Continued from previous page “No, no, no! Please understand! It’s not an excuse! I don’t think you’re stupid!”

“Shut up!” And with that, he slapped her face hard. Kailey screamed up in pain, but also fear. She knew the angrier he got, the closer she was to dying. She had to do something.

Kailey quickly ran for the bedroom, hoping to wake Jared.

Together, they would figure out something.

“Get back here!” Reed ran after her.

The first thing Kailey saw when she ran into the room was her phone. She grabbed it then looked up. The whole world stopped for a moment. Kailey now realized why Jared had not awakened yet, why he would never wake up again. He was lying in her bed, horribly disfigured. Everything was swollen; he had been injected. Kailey was too shocked to react, she just stared.

“Ahh, yes. I was hoping you wouldn’t see that,” Jared said, taking the phone out of her hand. “You don’t need this. Let’s go back into the kitchen.”

Kailey came back to her senses, but she couldn’t cry now. She had to go into survival mode. She turned to Reed, punched him in the nose and pushed him away with all her strength. Then she ran. She sprinted for the door, down the stairs and out the doors of her apartment complex. She was barefoot and in her pajamas, but that didn’t stop her. She kept running, praying she would run into someone, but she didn’t have much hope. It was pitch black besides a couple street lights and around three in the morning.

She checked behind her and noticed she had a decent lead on Reed. Kailey knew the campus police station was four blocks away, but she had to be quick. Turning back around, she didn’t notice the pothole in the ground and fell hard. She shrieked in pain, but she had to keep going. Kailey jumped back up and kept going but with a slower stride. Reed was starting to gain on her, and she could hear his breaths not too far behind her.

“Help! Someone help me! Please help!” Kailey screeched as loud as she could. She had two more blocks to go, but didn’t know how much more she could take.

“The more you oppose me, the more painful it will be when I catch you,” Reed gasped. The fear gave Kailey strength to push harder; she was so close!

But it was too late. Reed came up behind her and tackled her to the ground. She yelped loudly at the sound of a bone snapping. Then she felt the searing, mind numbing pain in her left wrist. Kailey barely had any fight left in her, but she couldn’t give up. She screamed louder than she ever had before and kicked hard at anything she could connect with.

“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Reed growled, digging his knees into her chest and slapping her.

“No! Stop! Someone help me please! Call the police! Please help! Please!” Kailey was losing hope but kept struggling. He couldn’t win.

“Step away from the woman now or I will shoot!” Someone had found her! She was saved! Reed jumped up and ran off in the opposite direction the voice came from.

“We’ve got a runner. Let’s go! Jacobs, attend to the girl,” and with that, several officers began running after Reed.

“Honey, are you okay? I’m officer Jacobs. Tell me what hurts,” the woman’s soothing voice started to calm Kailey down.

“Chest….Wrist…..Head,” Kailey gasped. It was hard to breathe.

“Alright, sweetie, you are a brave girl. Sit tight and the ambulance will be here soon. Everything is all right; you’re safe

now,” Officer Jacobs reassured her. *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* Kailey quickly turned off her alarm, hating the memories it always brought up. It was especially hard to hear today, because today was the one year anniversary of the incident and Jared’s death. Kailey was thankful that the police had heard her that day. She had been closer to the station than she thought and was very lucky. She was released from the hospital with a mild concussion, a few broken ribs and a broken wrist. But it was the guilt she felt over Jared’s death that hurt the worst.

The police caught Reed a couple blocks down the road and he was arrested for assault. After questioning Kailey and Reed, they also charged him for the murder of the ten victims. He was found guilty and sent to prison for life.

With the support of her family, Kailey’s life was as close as it could get to being back to normal. After a short break, she started classes up at Colombia again, and is almost finished with her degree in education. She has put the past behind her, and only moves forward in life.

Eternal

By Matthew Morse

The scent of blood besieged her nostrils as she ascended the stairs. Each step echoed through the stairwell with a clatter. She regretted that she hadn’t changed her shoes when she left the schoolhouse as she saw the grime caking her heels. She saw the candlelight flickering at the top, where the bell had just begin to chime. Midnight. She was right on time.

October 13 started off rough for Jane, as it had for the past three years. The fire was still fresh in her mind. Headlines all read: “TRAGEDY IN BOSTON: Factory Fire leaves only One Survivor”. She wished she wouldn’t have smelled the smoke. She wished the workers wouldn’t have sent her, the only female worker, out first before the fire escape was filled with crimson flames. But they did, and Jane lost everything but her life in that fire. Her husband, her job, the only thing left was her home, which she couldn’t bear to enter.

She had moved around since then, never being able to hold down any of the few jobs women could hold. Everywhere she was haunted by her husband’s death. When she settled in Salem she thought nothing of it but the teaching job she was offered at the school house. The town was quaint and bustling with daily life, students ran to the school and the men made the trip downtown. Their wives sat on the porches or in their tea rooms complaining of the unseasonal temperatures and discussing the latest papers.

Jane was one of two widows in the town. Ms. Cynthia was the women people wanted to see when they visited Salem. Rumors surrounded the ghastly old woman. Her and her husband had appeared one night and made Salem their home, he the school teacher and she a seamstress. They had no children and rarely left the shanty they called a home except for church and market. Just as suddenly as they had appeared, the couple left town, and weeks later Ms. Cynthia returned alone. The local children claimed that she was covered in blood, and were scolded for saying such nonsense.

Husbandless and broke, she remained in her shanty alone and made her living sewing and scraping the streets rarely to be seen in daylight. Another woman came into town to fill the school teacher position.

Continued on following page

Page 12- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from previous page Jane’s interactions with Ms. Cynthia started off limited. The walk home from late nights at the school house allowed her to catch sight of the old witch by candle light. They shared passing words at times, and once shared a candle when Jane had forgotten to buy wax at the market on Saturday. In a town for the married and their children, Jane had few social interactions. She spoke with the children about school, spoke with their parents about school, and spoke very little to anyone else.

One particularly stormy night, Jane had decided that she would be unable to make the trip home from the school house.

As she made her bed in the attic she smelt smoke rising from the floor. The same crimson flames engulfed the wooden frame of the building. The familiar heat surrounded her, this time taking her life. Ms. Cynthia found her passed out in the floor of the dark school house.

Ms. Cynthia stayed the night with the still trembling Jane.

The two slept with little interaction and no words between them. In the morning, when Jane awoke to prepare for the students, the bed was made and Ms. Cynthia nowhere to be found.

Exchanged words between the two then became conversations, and rather than sporadic meetings the two walked home from the school house together every other night, speaking of the past and the future, but rarely the present.

Ms. Cynthia never spoke of the conditions of her late husband’s death, nor did Jane. She did, however, speak of Salem as it had been when she was a child. Ms. Cynthia had grown up there, and left to find a bachelor when she had become of age. In the city she found life monotonous as she cleaned house and sipped tea alone in parlor with needle in hand. The couple moved back to Salem and she had remained here ever since.

As Jane built a relationship with Ms. Cynthia, she too revealed herself. She spoke of growing up an only child to a single father, and traveling with him to work. She was paid to clean the machines with parts too small for adult hands. When her father had passes, she filled his position at the factory as the only women to work there. Why she left the factory, she had never revealed.

Ms. Cynthia, Jane learned, was a woman of unpractical religious beliefs. She had stopped going to church after her husband passed, instead pursuing religion on her own grounds. Her religion was one of herbs and animal tongues and vinegar soaked liver. Jane had grown up Protestant but this new sense of religion drew her in, enticing her with promises of eternal life. Ms. Cynthia claimed that together, they could bring back the dead.

And so, Ms. Cynthia and Jane became quite the team of women. They brought up shop in the bell tower of the abandoned cathedral, mixing and mashing herbs and animal parts.

This potion wouldn’t be strong enough. To bring back a life, one must be sacrificed. Jane found herself absorbed in the idea of bringing back her late husband. All was complete except for the human sacrifice, which would be done on the anniversary of the death. October 13 couldn’t come soon enough.

The scent of blood besieged her nostrils as she ascended the stairs. Each step echoed through the stairwell with a clatter. She regretted that she hadn’t changed her shoes when she left the schoolhouse as she saw the grime caking her heels. She saw the candlelight flickering at the top, where the bell had just begun to chime. Midnight. She was right on time. Jane had in tow a student of hers, Annabelle. Blood trickled from the edges of her mouth, slit so she couldn’t scream. Ms. Cynthia awaited her in the room.

Annabelle was placed in the center of the bell tower room.

Her limbs were tied down with butcher’s twine as Jane doused her body in the previously created potion. Ms. Cynthia lit can-

dles in a circle around the body. All was made ready.

“The last step is the spell,” groaned Ms. Cynthia. Her body was aching with pain, her joints stiff and muscles sore.

“On this day…” Jane cut the wrists of the girl.

“October 13…” She made incisions along the thighs and calves.

“Spirits awaken…” She cut along the tender belly.

"For eternity here on!” shouted Ms. Cynthia. From Jane’s hand she took the knife and slit the throats of the two other females.

A sense of strength imbued her bones as her blood rushed into her head. The bell rang once again, and Ms. Cynthia fell to the ground. The next day she returned to the town, covered in blood.

The Hours of Midnight

By Nick Trueb

As the dim light of the moon shines in through the school bus window, a young 10 year old boy abruptly wakes up. As he sits up, the boy becomes very confused. He doesn't have a backpack with him and he can feel a lump on the top his head that starts to throb and he cannot remember a thing; not his name, not his age, not even where he is or how he got there. Not a thing.

It must be midnight for the moon, though it is hard to make out because it is covered, is very high in the night sky. The scary shadows that are cast by the dim moonlight dance around the bus he sits in. They scare him for he is evidently afraid of the dark and all things “spooky”. As the thought creeps into his head about how he will get out and how anyone will find him, the boy starts to panic. He knows that all he wants to do is to lie down on this bus and maybe wait out the night. “Yes! This will be perfect. I can just wait until dawn to get out of the bus and look around,” the boy says to try and reassure himself. And with that, he falls asleep right there in the same seat.

BANG! The 10 year old is startled awake frightening him so much that he literally jumps out of his sleeping place. The boy has no way to tell the time but he is sure that he has been knocked out for hours. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he scoots over to the window to check where the moon has moved to and to his utter surprise, it hasn't budged and inch. This starts to really confuse him because on top of obtaining amnesia and forgetting every little thing of his life, the boy is now puzzled by the fact that he appears to be in an endless night cycle.

BANG! This one startles him even more than the first. “How could I have forgotten!” he exclaims to himself. “I must've been too distracted that I forgot about the noise!” These loud noises are beginning to freak him out, but the boy realizes that if dawn will never come, he can't just stay in this bus for the rest of his life. He falls to the floor and starts to crawl toward the door at the front of the bus. Quietly and very, very slowly, he tentatively opens the door.

A rush of cool air hits his face and takes the breath right out of him. The air is cold enough that he could see his breath but the boy didn't mind because he had too much adrenaline pushing him forward. Everything seemed still outside, so after a brief check of his surroundings he took a step outside and crouched under the bus next to the wheel. From this vantage point, he could get a much better view of the environment. Because of all of the school buses, it was clear that they were in some sort of bus lot. This wasn't a normal bus lot though. It looked more like a maximum security prison because of the rolls of barbed wire that ringed the top of a ten-foot wire fence.

Continued on following page

Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 13 Continued on following page “Now, if only I can manage to find the gate I might be able to get out of here... There it is!” he yelled excitedly. How had he not seen it immediately he thought to himself. The boy's happiness quickly faded when he got a closer look at the gate.

It had many huge padlocks up and down the gigantic gate.

This option of leaving was immediately ruled out. The boy sighed and decided to sit down under the bus and relax a little bit longer.

As he sits down, the boy happens to turn to his left a little bit. A mask hangs from the bottom of the school bus facing the boy. He becomes so scared that he hits the top of his head on the bottom of the bus and gets up to run away. The boy keeps falling down however because the bump on his head now hurts extremely bad and he is very disoriented. Blood trickles down from his head, occasionally getting in his eyes.

Not only that but as he runs from bus to bus the boy keeps looking over his shoulder and seeing the huge figure of a man running parallel to him. How could he have missed the mask when he originally crept under the bus. No! It must have been placed there when he was examining the gates. CRASH! The boy falls to the ground and skids across it on face. He just lies there, feeling scared, tired, and hurting. After a few minutes, he decides to make an attempt to get up even though he had no idea where he could go next. As he crawls to his feet, a very big hand covers the back of his neck and picks him up. The boy looks up and sees the man standing there with the mask on holding a revolver in one hand. “You shouldn't have come here,” the man says in a very raspy voice. He throws the boy on the ground and shoots him. All the boy can see is his eyes fill with red for a split second, and then his vision went black and he felt nothing. For the boy was dead.

Dark Dreams

By Brooke Allen I don’t sleep. I lie there for hours waiting for the sun to rise to make me feel safe again. When I do sleep, I am woken minutes later by screams issuing from my own mouth. The dream is always the same. I wake up in my bed. As I look around I notice everything is a dull grey. I slip out of bed silently and reach for the light switch, it doesn't work. My heart begins beating faster, the grey light is slowly becoming darker. I know what’s coming. I turn to my bed to see the darkness oozing out from underneath. The temperature in the room drops. I throw open my door, too hard, it hits the wall behind it. I pause for half a second wondering why the door didn't make a sound as it crashed against the wall. The thought was driven from my mind as I saw my breath freeze in the air from the cold. I dashed out of the room, feet hitting hard on the hallway floor. My footsteps noiseless as I hurried down the stairs. In my dream I hear no sound. I sprint to the front door and rip it open. He stands in the doorway, taking all light and warmth away. He is a silhouette of a man, a dark entity absent of all color. I hear screaming and sit bold upright covered in cold sweat.

After two weeks of suffering through these night terrors I decided trying to take naps during the day to see if it had any effect. At this point in time I had been staying with my sister for the holidays. She agreed wholeheartedly to my plan. I lie down in my bed on a bright and sunny afternoon. I shut the curtains and the door; both let in too much light for me to sleep.

After attempting to sleep for a half of an hour I rolled over and

was about to get up when I noticed something in the dimly lit room. A shadowy figure standing stock still in the corner of the room. I watched it for a few moments. It never moved.

Half convinced it was my sister trying to frighten me I called out, “Jade?” The figure did not show any sign that it had heard me. My breath caught in my throat, heart pounding in my ears.

“Jade?” I called again. This time the figure shifted slightly, then began to approach the foot of the bed. It stood there staring at me, and I staring back. The figure then slowly lowered itself to the ground until it was out of sight. I waited, petrified, not daring to breathe. Then a cold voice came from beneath my bed, quietly it spoke, “Go to sleep.” 

The Monster Within

By Abby Miller

I looked out the window of Ms. Tilley’s black suburban.

We pulled into a secluded, country lane. There were trees lining the road that seemed to stretch to the sky. Hardly any blue of the sky could reach the ground due to the density of the leaves and branches. The remoteness of it all reminded me of Mr. Maney’s cellar and I shuddered with horrid memories of him and his “games”. Ms. Tilley tapped on my shoulder, pulling me back to reality.

“We’re almost there; are you ready?” She signed. I nodded slowly, lying through the motion of my head. A perk of being deaf: you develop an incredible poker face.

“You will love him! He is so nice and seems like a great man…” Her hands kept moving but my eyes looked away.

I knew she was lying, just as she had every home before.

The car rolled to a stop and Ms. Tilley turned to me smiled her “it’s so perfect it’s fake” smile. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and got out of the car. I looked at the house and was surprised by the quaint beauty of it. The brick house was a one-story farmhouse with wooden accents.

In the back, I could see a willow tree and a small pond.

I jumped, startled, when I saw two horses roaming free near the pond.

Ms. Tilley came around the back of the car, my bags in tow. She nodded towards the house and grinned the entire time. I took the nod as a hint to go to the door so I began to walk up the little drive. I neared closer to the front door and it suddenly swung open. I had to stop my jaw from dropping open when I saw my new foster parent. A tall, muscled man walked outside. He had short, brown hair that curled a little at the ends. His skin looked tanned and worn down from hard labor outside. My eyes tentatively met his and the vibrant blue I saw shocked me.

“Ava, this is your new foster parent, Mark,” Ms. Tilley signed to me. I glanced at Mark and he waved. I noted that he wore no wedding ring. Strange. Mark spoke to Ms. Tilley and I was somewhat disappointed that he wasn’t deaf as well. Ms. Tilley smiled in reply to whatever Mark had said. Then, he looked at me and cautiously signed, “Sorry, I don’t know much ASL but I’m learning. It’s nice to meet you, Ava.” My face flushed and I signed back that it was okay. He motioned for us to come inside. I was taken to what I presumed to be my bedroom. The walls were a soft yellow and the furniture was basic and white.

Ms. Tilley instructed me to make myself at home while her and Mark talked privately.

Continued on following page

Page 14- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 Continued from previous page After the pair of them left, I sat on the floor in amazement.

Slowly, my eyes began to water. I was overwhelmed by the fact that I had my own room. Mark’s was the nicest place I had ever lived in. I was so used to crowded bedrooms, crammed with 3-4 kids that had to fight for somewhere to sleep. I got off the floor and looked in the small vanity mirror above my dresser.

My head was covered in abundant curls that I had recently dyed auburn. My nose was a little red, my eyes still water, but other than that, there was no evidence of my mini breakdown.

I pinned my hair back from my face, wiped the moisture from my eyes, and began to unpack. I looked out my window and saw Ms. Tilley driving away on the gravel road. She hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. Figures, seeing as she considers me her most problematic child. I turned around quickly when I felt the ground shake. Mark was standing in the doorway, timidly smiling.

“Sorry,” he signed, “I stomped since you can’t hear me knocking.”

I was taken aback by the gesture and smiled, signing thank you.

“Can I help you?” He asked. I nodded, looking at my huge, worn out bags. For a while, we worked side by side. He meticulously folded every piece of clothing before placing it in the dresser. When everything was put away, Mark asked if I was hungry. I nodded and he started to leave my room, motioning for me to follow. I stood and caught a glimpse of my reflection.

My face had the slightest trace of blush on it, from being so close to Mark for so long. I could not fathom that my foster dad looked like he belonged on a set in Hollywood. I briskly walked out of my room, down the hall, and into a little dining area. The

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area had a teeny, round table with two chairs. Mark walked around from behind a counter with a big bowl of Caesar salad and some breadsticks. He motioned for me to sit down. He filled my bowl with salad and gave me a breadstick. I thanked him and began to eat.

During dinner, Mark asked me two questions: what my full name was and if I liked to read. I told him my name is Ava Marie Clawson and that yes, I love to read. He smiled gently at my responses, but didn’t say anything back. His eyes flickered to and away from my own. His simple beauty once again struck me. When I was finished eating, I began to stand. Mark quickly grabbed my arm and my blood starting pumping, my heartbeat was racing. Images of my past filled with bruises and cuts and tears flashed through my mind. Mark let go abruptly when he noticed he scared me.

“Hold on,” he started, “one more question. You are simply stunning. How old are you?”

I stared at him in shock and slowly answered that I was 17.

He gave a coy smile and turned back to his salad, eating in content silence. *** I awoke with a jolt from my sleep. I sighed when I remembered that it was just a dream. It was the same dream that had been in every night’s sleep for three years now, starting the night I first met Mark. The dream never failed to reoccur and it always woke me up. I looked over at the other side of the bed.

Mark was soundly sleeping, his mouth slightly agape. I knew he was a monster and I knew what he had done to me was immoral and wrong. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop him, let alone leave him. I had come to love Mark and he had made me his wife.

Continued on following page

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Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014 - Page 15 Continued from previous page It was only seven short months that I was in foster care with him before I was legally an adult. As soon as I turned 18, Mark began to make advances towards me. His goodnight hugs lasted too long and he held his stares for a little too long. Even though I didn’t give consent to the things Mark wanted to do, I let him do them because they made him happy. I was so young but I couldn’t resist him. Happy Mark was better than angry Mark who drank and hit me and let the monster within him come out. Mark turned over in his sleep, beginning to stir.

I looked at him, then at my pregnant belly and began to cry.

How could I bring a child into this house? How could I raise a child with a monster that let his fists speak for him? But how could I leave the man I fell in love with the moment I saw him?

I couldn’t. Mark was both my heaven and hell on earth.

Scary Story

By Kyle Wright I always knew it wasn’t true when they tried to tell me it was just kids dressed up for Halloween. All of these ghosts, goblins, and vampires… are real!

It was October thirty first, Halloween night. I was walking down my subdivision street with my two friends when it started to drizzle. Kids were running everywhere carrying their bags of candy. They were trying to get all the candy they could before the storm came. At first, everything seemed normal.

My friends and I went door to door and told some silly jokes just to get a piece of candy. I was dressed as a football player. I just wore a jersey and pants and added some eye black. I never liked getting dressed up into something scary.

BOOM! The thunder was so loud and then the sky lit up like a lamp! The rain started to pour down on us. All of the kids started running home. My friends and I decided to go home too, but just then the street lights went off. It was pitch black.

At first there was silence, but then, everywhere I turned, the goblins, ghosts, and vampires were running at us. They were all moaning and yelling! I was trembling in my pants. We started to run to our nearest friend’s house, but their mom looked at us running up in the pouring rain, being chased and just shut and locked the door. We started to Cry. We banged on the door! “Let us in. Let us in.” But she just walked away.

They were getting closer!

Beep! Beep! Beep! Awh! Oh My! What a dream! Thank goodness my alarm went off before I got caught by the bad guys.

How to Stop a Coffin

By Dave Lowry Every Friday after school, Hailey’s parents worked the late shift at the hospital, and since she was an only child, and didn’t live too far away, she had to walk home. Much to her disdain, the distance in between the school and her house included a short stretch of an old cemetery. She would always try not to look at the dingy sign hanging above the cast iron gate marking the territory of the dead, however, one day she felt compelled to look. Just a fleeting glance, but it was enough to send shivers racing in cold rivers down her back. Just then, she heard an eerie noise.

Creeaakkkk Hailey stopped for a moment, listening again. Not hearing anything, she shrugged, chalked it up the October wind, and began walking again.

Creeaakkkk Frightened, Hailey quickened her pace. There was no denying the unnerving sound this time. Daring to sneak a quick glance behind her shoulder, all Hailey could see was a tall, dark, rhombus-shaped object and the strong scent of the earth.

A scream caught in her throat.

A coffin was chasing her, and who knows what it would do if it caught up.

Hailey, letting her book bag drop from her shoulders like a dead weight, took off at a sprint for her life. The creaking sped up, and sounded closer and closer with each gasp for breath Hailey took. Reaching her home, Hailey swung open the front door and dashed around the corner into the nearest bathroom, and, in her rush of adrenaline, forgot to shut the doors.

Creeaakkkk Hailey held her breath, and slowly opened the medicine cabinet above the sink.

Creeaakkk Out of nowhere, the coffin was approaching slowly towards a trapped Hailey. Finally letting out a piercing scream, Hailey lunged for the cough syrup, and, with all the strength she had left inside her, hurled the syrup at the coffin. The cough syrup erupted over the wood, and finally the creaking subsided.

The cough syrup had stopped the coffin.

Priest

By Dylan Colby

In the early 1900's, there once was an old man, a priest. He loved the Lord, he spent more time in the studies at church than with his own family. He filled his flocks hearts and minds with meaning, happiness and understanding of God. He was tired of men and women coming to confess their sins every Sunday just to come back after committing the same sin. He was a man of peace, yet despised the faithless and the sinners. He prayed every night to God he would say "Father, please let me keep my humble place of worship holy, let me smite down all abominations that step foot inside." One day, after hearing of a man who had killed his wife and framed his neighbor, he decided to take action. All he had wanted was to purify his community so he did it the only way he knew how.

He hunted them down and killed everyone he thought was unfit to live, he killed families, homeless people and some in his own family.

The townsfolk discovered that the priest had been slaughtering them due to the priest not killing an innocent witness. The townsfolk went to the priests church, he had known they would come for him. He wanted them to in his eyes he had purified the community. The citizens placed him on top of a horse, wrapped barb wire around his neck and the nearest tree branch, moved the horse and they all watched in awe.

Some say they saw the devil in his eyes, others the Lords might. Now his spirit haunts the halls of the church, searching for abominations. He waits, once he finds a sinner alone he drags them back to his studies, cuts open their skull and carves the commandment that he or she is guilty of in their skull so that they wont forget in the after life.

Page 16- Scary Stories - Friday, October 24, 2014

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