Share your Scary Stories

My first post in this thread:

(which, awesomely enough, seems to be thread 480,000, grats) reminded me of how, being a bit yellow bellied I tended to miss out on the “tell scary stories around the campfire” phase. I know a lot more of them now, but they’re always fun to hear, even if they have lost a lot of their terror value to most adults, especially due to liberal use of “just go with it”.)

They can be in any format, true experience, narrative with full named characters, short “there is a legend” campfire or “parent scare” stories (i.e. White Eyes, Jersey Devil, Bug-a-boo), you can even alter one into another format if you feel you can convert it well. (I say this because otherwise it looks like I’m asking for campfire stories)

I will make a request, I heard one once about little men that looked like they were in greyscale who followed people around, either randomly or because the kid ran away (it varies). They would threaten to kill you if you told anyone about them before they left. That’s about all I remember though, I’d love to hear the full version again (Google fails me).

Anyway, I’ll post mine if there’s any interest in the thread. It took me three or so hours to write, and is about four and a half pages in word. As I’ve learned my threads generate little interest, and my long threads generate even less, so I’ll leave it alone for a little.

So share your scary stories, DO IT!

I don’t have any scary stories! If I did, I’d be writing Stephen King-ish fiction. I love reading scary stories, though, so I hope lots of people post.

So I reread my story and it SUCKS, especially the ending, probably something about having been up about 60 hours while I was writing it. Oh well, considering there’s no posts I figure I might as well try and stimulate it anyway. I pretty much made it up as I went along basing it off the old Hook story, my friend and I made a sequel to it that was actually pretty good, but the original made no sense with the sequel (another character pops up for no good reason, you’ll understand if you read my POS version).

Greg and Sara had the perfect weekend planned out, they were going to their favorite place on Sunday Night, before that spending a day going around the state fair. The state fair was usually pretty run down, but they didn’t care. Of course, that was Sunday. first they had to worry about today, they were going to take ride up the mountain, a beautiful scenic drive dotted with tourist towns every couple hours.

After they got ready that morning they set out at once, it was pretty early so the town was quite still, everything seemed as if was captured in a single point in time, peaceful and never moving. It was a small town, but this was a nice break from the hustle and bustle of the daily commotion.

It didn’t take long before they were at the edge of town, their conversations were nice but this around the time they drove to work on the weekdays, and there was a radio show they always enjoyed listening to on their respective drives. When they turned it on it wasn’t the typical radio show they normally heard, well it was all the same people, the same music, but everything seemed different, more sombre. After a few of the typical updates and phone calls they played some music. After the last song there was a pensive silence.

Finally one of the hosts quietly started “Last night at the local asylum there was an escape. We don’t know the name of the escapee, but he is identifiable by the hook that has replaced his right hand.” Something still seemed off, of course this was serious, a mental patient escaping, but the feeling was too melancholy for this to be all that was wrong. “He is very dangerous,” a somewhat shocking continuation followed, “he killed Brad sometime between his escape and this morning. If you have any information of his whereabouts please call the police immediately. No other victims have been reported.”

Brad was the other main host of the show, a jovial man who usually was the most “into” the jokes they made, it’s no doubt his death had an impact on the rest of them. However this was supposed to be a happy day, and the asylum was on the other side of town, there was no way he would be that far up the mountain by this point. Sara made a quick point of turning off the radio before they started dwelling on it too much.

It wasn’t long before they put the incident behind them, they were safely away from the town and this was going to be the perfect weekend. They stopped in a small tourist stop a quarter of the way up and bought some souvenirs. Greg bought a carved wooden bear, which was an odd piece considering there were no bears in that forest, and Sara bought a piece of art made with sheets of metal, because Greg and Sara couldn’t agree on what it was. Sara insisted it looked like a squirrel, but it seemed to have a handle instead of a tail, Greg maintained that it was a wire mesh of a pitcher. Sara picked it up, bought it, and insisted they settle the fight as soon as they get home.

After they got back in the car they had completely forgotten why they didn’t have the radio on. As soon as they turned it on, they remembered. The host said “there is an update on the escaped mental patient, someone has spotted him a quarter mile from Summerhaven.” Summerhaven, of course, was the next town on the way up. There was absolutely no way he could have gotten that far up the mountain from the asylum in that short a time, especially not if he stopped to murder someone along the way.

They turned off the radio again, vaguely horrified, but convinced that this was one of the show’s occasional pranks, not their usual style but too many things didn’t add up. Why were they still doing the show when the co-host had just been killed hours before? Why didn’t the shopkeep mention it? How could he have gotten that far in such a little time? They decided to write it off, the prank wasn’t otherwise affecting their day, and even if he was real it wasn’t as if they were planning to go hiking in the woods.

As they continued driving they saw a lot of wildlife, some beautiful groves, and quaint homes here and there. What they did not see was what made the thunking noise on their car. On their roof there was a distinct sound of something falling, no, more like landing on it. They decided it was probably just a squirrel or something, and it was probably already gone, it was a little loud, but no need to be upset. Of course, that was until they heard screeching, it was the kind of sound you get when nails scape down a chalkboard, or more accurately, nails against a metal worktable. Greg slammed on the breaks out of surprise and saw something fly back, a man?

He calmly told Sara to wait in the car, and got out and went to see if he was all right. As he got closer he looked okay, for just being thrown off a speeding vehicle at least. Wait, but something is off about
his…
hand. His hand was distinctly a hook, but the man was in obvious pain. Now Greg had no idea what to do, he almost just accidentally killed a guy, and the guy ended up being a killer. Does he call he police? Drive him to hospital in the next town? Finish the job?

The hooked man moved, which understandably startled Greg. “A… are you okay?” Greg timidly asked.

“Yes, perfectly fine!” The inflection was clearly joyful, but the voice itself just sounded wrong, almost sinister, that kind of sarcastic tone you hear in horror movies.

“Glad to hear, what, may I ask, were you doing on the roof of our car?” A stupid sounding question, but was pretty obvious, given the circumstances.

“Taking a ride.” Greg was somewhat disturbed by this answer, deciding it may be best to let the topic go before he got an introduction to this man’s inner logic.

“Well, can you make it to the next town on your own?” Greg hesitated for a second, “we could give you a ride.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful.” As soon as the hooked man said that, Greg noticed they were very close to each other, he didn’t remember either of them moving, but he was close, almost at arms length.

Suddenly the hooked man took a full swing at Greg, almost cutting his stomach open. Greg stood there completely shocked for a second until his legs expressed disagreement with the idea of just standing there and ran for the car. He got in, closed the door, and stepped on the gas, telling Sara to call the police on her cell phone, which she promptly agreed with.

As soon as they hit the next town they decided inside with other people was much better than outside alone, this man was crazy enough to jump on a car, no telling what else he may do to a lone couple sitting in a stationary vehicle. They went into a restaurant, pretty empty, but it wasn’t the time a lot of people came this far up the mountain.

After a meal they sat there chatting a bit, still shaken from the incident. The radio that was playing over the speakers came in with an update saying the police had caught the escapee, and with that news they paid their check and continued on their way. The day had been somewhat disturbing, to say the least, but watching the sun set at the top like they planned would more than make up for it.

They drove up, more scenery and more conversation as they went. Everything was typical until they saw a man standing in the middle of the road, he looked familiar but Greg couldn’t place from where, it didn’t matter though, Greg slammed on the breaks and tried to steer away. His car spun out and tumbled down the hill, Greg hit his head on the dashboard and passed out, Sara was still very much conscious, and needed to get out. The car was sitting on an edge, and the front passenger side door was dented in, Sara couldn’t escape from there. She crawled into the back seat, opened the door and attempted to get out, putting the car off balance and caused it to far further down the hill. Right as it made its last bounce it Sara fell out of the door she opened and as it landed it pinched her hand in between the car and the door, being kept closed by a large protruding rock.

Sara struggled for a couple minutes, until she saw someone approaching, she cried for help and the character approached. Suddenly she recognized him, it was the man on the road, probably coming to see if they were okay. As he came into focus she saw something, a hook for a hand. But that was impossible, the police caught him, and even if he escaped the police car would have been moving in the opposite direction, putting him farther away from them. No time to dwell on it, the hooked man came closer, a fire in his eyes. He took a swing at Sara, who dodged as best as she could, limited by her stuck arm.

He swung again, she dodged, however this time she wasn’t as lucky. The hook sliced through flesh and separated the bones, cutting off the hand stuck in the car. Sara screamed in pain, taking a flesh cut while she was disorientated from pain. She needed to think fast, she saw something next to her, the souvenir she got from the first shop they visited, it was ruined by the crash, the large plates were severed from each other and almost resembled a very sharp rake head. She grabbed it by what she insisted was the tail when it still resembled a squirrel and swung it as her attacker’s stomach. As it hit it took out a great deal of skin.

This seemed to have the opposite effect she intended, and only served to anger him. As the man took another swing he nearly hit her neck, if he kept this up she’d be dead. He dodged her swipes and swung back, hitting in the side. Sara fell over, not dead but unable to overcome the joint pain of a severed hand and a pierced side. As the man was about to finish the job, he was tackled, Greg had come to and gotten out to protect Sara. He threw punch after punch on the downed man until he was clearly knocked out, if not dead. Sadly Greg seemed to be too late, Sara was lying, eyes closed. He felt for a pulse but couldn’t get one. He couldn’t take the body up the hill, and staying down there wouldn’t help. He needed to call the police, and an ambulance, but the cell phones were broken in the crash.

Crying, he trekked to the nearest town. He called the police, who assured him they got Sara’s body and captured the hooked man, he stayed up there for one night, after giving the police his story, to watch the sunset like he and Sara planned. He called a shuttle to take him home from the top, avoiding any incidents on the way down. When he got to his house something was wrong.

His wife’s hand was nailed to the door, with a carving underneath it that said “you forgot something.
-The Hook”

He went inside, going to call the police, but something came out of the closet, it cut his abdomen open in several places and knocked him backwards. He looked up, seeing a claw-like appendage affixed to a hand, the last thing he heard before he faded was Sara’s voice, screaming with a mix of madness and anger “Why did you leave me to die?”