STORIES TO SCARE YOU HALF TO DEATH!

Halloween comes but once a year, to bring you lots and lots of fear!

Many sites have ghosts stories this time of year and so I thought for this Halloween we might bring some of the scaries to the forum. In this thread you can tell us a scary story. It does have to be at least 500 words. Please no vulgarity, profanity or obscenity. Let's just have a good ol'fashion scare.

I shall begin. The following is a true story which I have retold. Please, like all story submissions please read and review. Enjoy!

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As a child I often enjoyed the stories my mother told to entreat the imaginative mind. However, according to her the following really happened as the story centered on her great-grandmother Meg and her sister Sophie who both lived in Tennessee during the late 1800’s.

The story goes that Meg, a beautiful child of fifteen years with gorgeous, flowing red hair, became the envy of elder sister Sophie. The male population never knew elder sister even existed when Meg graced their presence.

Sophie never kept her jealousy a secret, so one day her mother warned her of such harsh emotions. Fearing for her younger daughter’s safety, the old lady warned Sophie that if she ever did anything to harm her baby sister, ol’Scratch himself would come after her.

At the time, twenty-year-old Sophie took no heed to her mamma’s words. Mothers often said things to scare their children into doing the right thing. And nothing scared Sophie, yet.

The farm spread over several acres of land and had two barns one close to the house and the other a bit of a distance. Meg used to like this barn because of its seclusion and quiet. Here chores did not exist and neither did rude, envious sisters, until today.

The final days of Indian summer nearly always found the girl up in the loft, sitting upon a bale of hay brushing her silky, long flaming hair. Redheads with clear white skin seemed uncommon in these parts and men of all ages couldn’t get enough of such a rare beauty.

Sophie knew of her sister’s secret place. Even their brothers seldom came here. Unless the weather turned extremely hot or freezing cold, the use of the barn became scarce.

Not far from here grew several trees called chinquapins, similar to the chestnut, that yielded a hard wood and edible nut in a prickly bur; a bur that could do severe damage to human flesh..

With ferocious malice, Sophie ripped off several branches of these prickly burs and marched into the barn. When she finished with Meg, no man would ever look at her again.

By the element of surprise, the burning sting of the burs ripped and tore into the delicate, tender white flesh of the younger sister. Screams of pain and pleas for mercy never registered in Sophie’s mind. All she wanted was to destroy what stood in her way of having a boyfriend or getting married for that matter. Damn Meg for being born!

No witnesses and hiding the body where it would never be found made for the perfect crime. Baby sister still had life in her, but not for long. Pleased with herself, Sophie stared down at the mangled and bloody body of the girl she’d hated all her life. The once silky red hair now lay mattered and tangled with dirt, blood and burs from the chinquapins. The child’s face now swollen and black with dried blood bore no resemblance to the once flaming haired Venus that stole men’s hearts.

As the fading streaks of sunset melted into the blackened sky, Sophie reached the house in time to wash her bloodied hands and rinse out the spots of splattered life’s fluid from the hem of her skirt. She should have been more careful where she stepped.

In the distance, the unnerving howl of a lone wolf echoed. The elder sister shivered. The night air had turned chilly, that’s all, thought Sophie, as she scurried into the house.

As Mamma dished out the food, she noticed one child missing.

“Where’s your sister?” asked Papa, looking to the two boys and then to Sophie. The boys shook their heads and exchanged puzzled looks. Sophie leaned on the table with both elbows as she twisted her hair around her fingers in agitation.

“You boys were suppose to bring in the cows and you girls were pickin’ berries, at least what’s left of them,” Mamma’s eyes met Sophie’s. Without words, Mamma’s heart sank and her stomach churned for the loss of her baby. No doubt she thought the worse.

The eldest girl said she didn’t know and to hurry up and eat.

“Sophie, where is your sister?” Mamma demanded. Papa’s face blanched white. He, too, knew of the rivalry of the two girls, but could it truly turn to violence?

“I don’t know,” lied Sophie. “I’m hungry, let’s eat.”

“Your sister is missing girl and you don’t care about anything but your gut!” Papa lashed out and jumped up from the table. He and his sons no longer had an appetite. After grabbing up their shotguns, the men moved out in search of the missing girl. Mamma had wanted to go, but the wilds of Tennessee should not be reckoned with at night, unless you were an armed male.

Turning from bolting the door, Mamma found Sophie wolfing down her food like nothing had happened. Mamma’s stomach still churned and her face turned a deathly pallor.

“Sophie, I swear if you done something to your sister…”

“Ma, she’s probably off with one of the Godwin boys,” Sophie said between bites.

“Sophie! Shame on you. Talkin’ bout your sister like that.” By now Mamma had grown angry. “You done something bad. I know it. Remember what I told you girl. If you done harm to your sister, ol’Scratch himself will come for you.”

To this, Sophie said nothing. Sassy remarks would only make her look guiltier.

Several hours passed. The men returned empty handed. A long silence hung in the air between Mamma and her eldest daughter. They had searched everywhere. All men in the family prided themselves as expert trackers, but no one could even pick up a trail. It seemed like Meg had vanished into thin air.

With a smug look on her face, Sophie figured by the time they found anything left of Meg, there wouldn’t be enough to bury. The scent of fresh blood should herald the wolves and they’d make short work of the troublesome sibling. A slow painful death or being eaten alive, Sophie could decide which delighted her more.

That night, no one slept, except for Sophie.

Around two in the morning, something slammed against the house and rattled the windows and door. Sophie awoke with a jerk. Her parents and brothers huddled together, fearing what had just hit the rickety building. No one dare move. Something scratched at the corner where the young woman slept.

The scratching grew louder and then came a low, raspy male voice. “I come once. I come twice. Next time I come, I come no more…” the chilling voice trailed.

Tears of terror came to Sophie’s eyes. Her body quivered with fear and she nearly lost her mind. Mamma was right.

“Sophie! Is there somethin’ you wanna tell us?” Papa said in a shaky voice.

“No!” came the surprisingly calm reply.

All the next day, the search for Meg continued. And just like the day before, the men returned empty handed. This time, even Sophie couldn’t eat.

The words of the evil voice echoed in her mind. A vision of the beaten and bloodied body flashed before her eyes.

NO! Sophie thought to herself. I won’t give into to ol’ wives tales.

Two o’clock in the morning, something again slammed against the house rattling the windows and door. Mamma and Papa held each other tight, praying softly for God to deliver them. The boys reached for their shotguns, but Papa stopped them.

In a matter of minutes the scratching began around the house and stopped at the corner where Sophie slept. With heart pounding wildly, the young woman sat cringing, scrounging to get away from the corner, when the raspy voice repeated the words from the previous night, “ I come once. I come twice. Next time I come, I come no more.”

An unearthly wale arose from Sophie, who now sat in the middle of the floor, staring at the corner as if she could see what lay on the other side.

“Sophie! Is there somethin’ you wanna tell us?” Mamma managed to ask, but once again Sophie said no.

The next morning much like the one before had the men searching all day for young Meg. They even had their neighbors out looking for her, but again to no avail.

The silence between Sophie and her mother seemed thick enough to cut with a knife. Mamma’s heart ached for her younger daughter and she wanted to lash out at her wicked daughter, but what good would it do?

When shadows grew long and the sun began to fade, Sophie began to have trouble breathing and her mouth went dry. Her hands shook like she had an affliction and her face turned an unearthly white. Night came quickly and as of late, she dreaded the darkness. Oh how she dreaded the night!

Two in the morning, the same thing slammed against the house and rattled the windows and door. Then the unholy scratching began, inching slowly to the corner where young Sophie now sat, wild-eyed and teeth chattering. She felt her entire body stiffened and grow ice cold from the fear of what lay on the other side of the wall. It came for her.

“I come once. I come twice. This time I come, I come no more…”

“I’LL TELL! I’LL TELL!,” screamed Sophie at the top of lungs. “She’s at the old barn. The one way down by the chinky pin trees. Please don’t let it take me. Please…”

Instantly the scratching stopped. Papa and the boys quickly dressed and grabbed their guns. Mamma barred the door behind them and turned to the hysterical woman.

“If she’s dead, may God have mercy on your soul!”

But Meg wasn’t dead. Only by the grace of God did they find the child alive, barely. The burs from the chinquapins could not be untangled, so the once beautiful hair had to be cut, very short. Mamma bathed her battered and bloody child, thanking God they’d found her alive.

And Sophie? She never seemed to be the same, especially when twilight comes and the light of day fades.

Yaaaay, Halloween!
Thanks Fay, this is awesome!

Ok, I have a true story for y'all:

Here is St. Augustine, everyone knows the story of Chief Osceola. He was an Seminole Indian captured by General Thomas Sidney Jesup in 1837. He was imprisoned in Fort Marion (for no reason). Obviously, this caused quite an uproar among the Native Americans, so Osceola was to be moved to another fort in North Carolina. A local man practicing medicine by the name of Dr. Weeden was sent to travel with Osceola should he take ill on the long journey.
As bad luck would have it, he did.... Tuberculosis.
Dr. Weeden knew the only way to cure the prisoner was to bleed him. Since cutting the poor man's wrists didn't seem to work and Osceola was complaining of a sore throat Weeden did the next best thing: bleed the infected area.

Obviously, Osceola did not survive the procedure; he bled to death.

Now, Dr. Weeden did not feel the least bit remorseful about the murder he committed. Instead, he asked to take care of the funeral arrangements and finished the job of beheading the chief. With his victim's head hidden in his luggage, Weeden made the trip back home where he displayed the head in his office...Unless his children misbehaved.

In order to punish a naughty child, Weeden would stick Osceola's dried, withered head on the delinquent's bedpost and leave it there as long as he saw fit.


When our "favorite" doctor died, he willed the head to his eldest daughter. Since then, it has been undoubtedly destroyed... But that doesn't stop Osceola from searching for it.


If you visit Fort Marion (now called Castillo De San Marcos) late at night, you will see a headless, ghostly figure stumbling the grounds in search of his head.




I'm probably the only one who finds that remotely scary because I live right behind the Weeden house

I thought it was pretty scary. Carrying a head around...eww! Creepy much! If you have more, I'd love to hear them. If possible, give us more details and description. That would make it even scarier.

My mother used to live in Florida. My sister was born in Orlando. I've been to Miami and South Beach. I'd love to visit the so-called haunted areas. Boo!

Here's another story to scare you silly. Please R&R.

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DEAD BEFORE DAWN

Not sure what prompted the sour note, but Halloween really didn’t seem to be all it should have been this year. No one in class seemed to have the spirit of the holiday, if you’ll pardon the pun, and Travis Harding went right along with the crowd.

Being thirteen years old seemed difficult enough, but having the school demand all students come in costume on Halloween day and participate in a party after school made even his frown frown.

Travis never liked living in this small Nebraska town, because all the farmers’ way of doing anything, even celebrating Halloween, seemed dorky. The poor kid ran his fingers through his tousled dusty brown mop of hair, while the teacher rattled on about the Halloween party. Did he care? NO!

Looking to his friend, Bart, he saw that he felt the same way. The face he made at Travis seemed like a good indication. People here in
Crete appeared very obsessed with Halloween, All Saints Day or as some called it All Souls Day.

The bell couldn’t have rung soon enough. Travis and Bart beat it for the door, when Mr. Petrie, the teacher, caught the boys by the shoulders and asked if they would volunteer to decorate the gymnasium for the big bash the day after tomorrow.

“Volunteer?” whined Travis.

“Volunteers don’t have to be asked.”

“Glad to hear you say that. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Here,” Mr. Petrie released the boys and handed them a book. “This will give you some ideas on decorations,” he smiled, knowing he’d tricked the lads.

“Mr. Petrie,” whined Bart, scrunching up his face. “We don’t want to…”

“I know you don’t want to make the other children envious. That’s why I asked you in private. Do you know how many of your
classmates asked for this coveted calling?” grinned the gray haired old fellow.

The lads shook their heads. Waving the book at the teacher, Travis and Bart shuffled out the door without a word.

The City of Crete was located in southeast Nebraska near, Lincoln the state capitol. Nestled in the Blue River valley where the Blue
River runs right through it, Crete did have its own traditions and customs unlike any other town in the state. Not many residents knew that Mr. Petrie, the principal and faculty harbored a secret which tonight’s festivities would soon unleash.

Travis and Bart raced to Bart’s home. The boys lived across the street from each other, so each day they took turns going to one another’s house first.

As they barreled through the back door, both nearly fell over with surprise when they found Travis’ parents meeting with Bart’s. The adults appeared giddy and filled with thoughts of Halloween and the party. Why didn’t they just let kids go trick-or-treating like other towns, like normal folks? Why did the entire town need to attend a big costume party at the local middle school? Should we say, the only middle school?

The boys frowned and shook their heads, as they ducked into a little hallway, which led to the staircase. Quickly and quietly, they raced upstairs to Bart’s room. Here they tossed their books on Bart’s bed, along with their jackets.

Travis opened his mouth to speak his mind when he saw the title of the book, Dead Before Dawn. What did this mean? Bart noticed
it at the same time and grabbed up the book.

Inside, they found spooky drawings and a ton of text and several pages of what to put up in your home, office or whatever the edifice, to ward off the Barghest. In the north of England, especially Yorkshire, the Barghest was the name given to a legendary monstrous black dog with huge teeth and claws. Sometimes commonly referred to as a “devildog” or “hell hound”.





None of this information did they want to read or know. What crazy teacher would give two thirteen year old boys a book called Dead before Dawn, containing all sorts of crazy stuff in it? This had to be a joke. Certainly they’d heard of a “devil dog” or “hell hound”, but only as a horror movie or some short lived TV series. Stories like this cannot be true.

At this, the boys argued quietly among themselves. Bart had read an old book called The Witches by Roald Dahl, which told such a myth, as well as Sir Arthur ConanDoyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles. Folklore and myths what else could you call these stories? Travis recalled something like it in the role playing game Dungeons and Dragons. Again, not real; folklore and myth. Mr. Petrie must be playing a trick on them.

As they muttered and complained to each other, Bart removed his backpack and rummaged through it for something sweet. Upon finding the two bars of candy, he drew them out quickly and handed one to his buddy.

While the boys munched their candy, they noticed how quickly the sun set and something seemed to urge them to look out the window. With the lights out and only a dim glimmer of sun faded over the horizon, the boys noticed something peering out from the
rose bushes. The silhouette looked like an animal; a dog. A glint of red flashed in the last dying rays of daylight.



Travis couldn’t resist another look, and so scooted to the window in a crouched and most uncomfortable position. His heart raced so fast, he feared it may leap right out of his chest. Bart shook so, his teeth chattered.

Cautiously lifting his head, Travis gingerly parted the drapes and peered out the window.

Nothing! Not asingle sign of the creature.

The young boy swallowed hard and almost choked on a piece of
peanut from the candy bar. His buddy refused to look out the window again. So the boys grabbed a flashlight and huddled together on the floor by the bed to read that infernal book, Dead Before Dawn.

According the book, which could not rightfully be called a text book or novel, but rather a Book of Shadows written by a person of the
Wiccan faith, a Barghest was a ghost that had to be summoned. This creature feared nothing, but since it came from the underworld, it had to acquire a body, which allowed it to feel pain and it could be stunned, and knocked down. However, whatever you did to the
thing, you’d have to do it fast and in a group; at least with one other person for it to effect the beast.

Many tales have been handed down through the centuries about
this big black dog from the inferno, but all such yarns agreed on one thing; Barghests show the living no mercy.

If the lads had not seen the beast for themselves, they would have considered the stupid book the guide to a role playing game. Trick-or-treat held nothing for them now. They had to read on to discover what they needed to do to ward off this spectre which hated the living so badly. They had to save themselves and
their families; they had to save the entire town. No big black dog from h-e-double tooth picks would take away their happiness and life. The mere though, made both boys swallow hard and nearly choke on the last bite of candy.

Before flipping to the next page, another ghastly sketch of
the monster stared back at them:



Halloween day seemed to come upon the two friends so quickly. Neither of them hesitated in choosing a costume. Travis dressed like
Spiderman and Bart hid his dark blond hair under his green hood. At first, his mom assumed he had chosen the Robin Hood look, but no, even with the arrows and quiver, not Robin Hood, but rather Green Arrow. It appeared the two young friends felt like super heroes and wanted to dress accordingly.

The gym had the usual scary Halloween decorations, from the black and orange crepe paper twisted from one end of the ceiling to the other, along with a couple of large bundles of herbs and heaven knows what else wrapped in burlap. Yes, burlap proved a test and trial to find, but so did the angelica root and wolf bane.

Travis took care to prepare the punch. Whatever the book called for, he made sure to put it in the punch along with a cherry flavoring and a hint of almond extract. This made the cherry very strong
and overpowering to the herb powder he mixed in.

Each door had a few words calligraphed in Latin, to forbid entrance of any unwanted spirit, wraith, or being of mystical origin.

The families of the all the students of Crete Middle School brought a savory or sweet dish for the grand festivities.

Of all the Halloweens in their years, this had to be the best one yet. With or without trick-or-treat, bringing the families together brought love and unity among all the students, their families and the school faculty.

By the end of the evening, the two friends wondered if the creepy Barghest lurked outside in the shadows of All Hallows Eve. They had to know. So, quietly, amid the final hour of the festivities, the two
slipped out into the hall and scurried to an exit, to peer outside through the glass door.

To their relief and surprise, a full moon shone bright and almost romantic, if you like that kind of mush and the trees swayed in the
gentle breeze.

“Looking for something?” asked a familiar voice, which startled and made them jump in unison.

“What’s the matter super heroes? Got a bad case of the jitters?” smiled old Mr. Petrie, dressed like George Washington, white wig and all.

“Geez, Mr. Petrie! You about scared the life out of us,” Bart finally took a deep breath.

“I wanted to say thank you for all you did tonight and what a wonderful job you did in decorating the gym and preparing the punch and…”

“…and saving the entire town of Crete?” piped up Travis, removing his mask since he started to perspire.

“Saving the entire town? Huh?” the old man grinned. “So you were saving the town, not just helping to make a successful Halloween
celebration?”

“You know, the Barghest. You gave us the book,” Bart sputtered.

At that moment, a shadow popped up and momentarily blocked
the moonlight from outside.

A dog.

The boys screamed, again in unison and tried to make a run for it, but the old teacher caught them by the shoulder and made them
look.

Petrie’s gentle dog, Old Bingo sat on his haunches outside the door, panting and playfully scratching to get in.

The lads exchanged puzzled looks and then turned to their teacher. “Dead Before Dawn? What’s up with that?” Travis narrowed his eyes at the old man.

Petrie opened the door and let his dossal old dog in and answered the question while patting Old Bingo’s head.

“We only wanted you and your families to bond. Get closer to each other. What better way than a family activity? If you had read the
end of the book or even taken a look at author, which was me, you’d know the book’s title wasn’t meant for a human. Should the celebration be a success, hatred, animosity and all jealousy would be dead before dawn.”

errrrggghhh i hate practical jokes......evil old man lol

It wasn't a practical joke. Trickery, yes, but not a joke. He only wanted to bring the families together. Mr. Petrie is a good guy.

Wow, interesting stories... Wouldn't wanna get caught up in one of those

I would soo fall for his trick. . . it was simply genius.

good stories, but i am not scared

I've got my job cut out for me. I need to work on making crazzycat scared.

Good story! I like creepy stories! Thanks for this one! I was scared!

Thank you everyone. So happy you liked my scary stories. I enjoyed writing them.

I know we've had something like this before, but no one really used it, so it was probably deleted...



Lately, I've been addicted to reading scary stories on LiveJournal. I was wondering if anyone had anything spooky they'd like to share? Keep it real, if you want to share something you've written or found online, you can post it here. (just make sure you follow Fay's rules )


** This doesn't have to be a ghost story, anything scary/creepy will be fine

Since this is about the same topic, I merged them. Hope you don't mind.

Let's here some true scary stories.

Oh, good. I was under the impression this was just for Halloween, but now we're not taking up unnecessary space!