Scary Stories from Spooky Boo’s Subreddit
Hello, it’s Spooky Boo. Welcome to Creepypasta and True Scary Stories. Tonight I’ll be telling you scary stories left in my subreddit forum on Reddit. Yes, I do have a subreddit. You are welcome to post your scary story to the subreddit linked right here. Many people prefer to link there. I had no idea because I wasn’t aware people were posting to the subreddit. Call it USER ERROR on my part. That’s ok, I’m reading them now 🙂
If you would like your stories told on the podcast and you’d prefer to enter them on Reddit, please make them 500+ words and be sure to check your spelling and grammar. By making sure your prose is near perfect it makes it a lot easier to read. In fact, if I have to spend more than a few minutes making it easier to read out loud for me I will not read it.
Join me on Saturday nights at 9 pm Pacific in the Creature Features chat room on YouTube where my friends and I watch the horror host Vincent Van Dahl interview exciting guests and watch old classic horror movies. Check it out at www.creatureafeatures.tv.
For more information on these stories and where to find the authors visit my website at www.creepypastascarystories.com.
Now let’s begin…
Story Number One
I Swear I Heard It
Sometimes, you don’t have to see things to know that you may be in danger. It was around 10:00pm one night I cannot recall over the summer, when I, as usual, was at my boyfriend’s house. On that night as well as many others we had decided to get high at the nearby beach of Lake Michigan after heading back home to cuddle, watch movies, or anything in between eating. Keep in mind, many of the houses surrounding that area were old, for my towns standards.. The place was, in short, somewhat decrepit – clearly aged though nothing too concerning…This night, or rather, the whole day was going well for the both of us. To say simply, I was relaxed, dozing in his bed after tiredly coming up the wooden stairs into his bedroom and immediately fancying myself to the pillows. He had not followed me up the stairs as we had entered the house, parting ways to collect any snacks from the pantry, as I recall. Thinking back, I should have went with him. There is something about being alone for even a spars amount of time that can make you feel so vulnerable, and suddenly, the space you’ve found yourself in becomes teeming with – unpleasant inhabitants. I must have been staring at the blandness of the white walls before i sat up, my eyes locked upon the open doorway as footsteps made their way up the steps and unto the second floor. The layout of this floor was simple, the opposing side of the doorway I sat behind included both the stairs and a door, leading to the disused attic. From his room, you could see neither of these things and are instead met with the also white walled hallway in between the two. To the left of the bedroom was a small bathroom, directly opposite of the stairway. I awaited to be met by my boyfriend, back with the food I knew I craved, but instead of this, I was met with utter silence just after the now unidentifiable footsteps clambered up the stairs. The creaking of the wooden stairway had come to an end as if standing still and staring into the entrance of the bathroom, and only a mere few feet from the room I kept vigilant within. Not long after, I was pulled from my lingering thoughts by the sound of rampant scampering across the wooden hallway floor. Though I heard it clearly begin from one end to the other, I fail to recall seeing anything move between the door and proceed to the other end.
Convinced that he was standing just out of my sight and leaning against the doorframe, I grabbed one of the smaller pillows and tossed it out the door in a playful attempt to tease him, thinking it was nothing but a prank for him to jump into the room and surprise – no, actually frighten me, from his unexpected appearance. Over the next few moments I felt myself growing increasingly more tense, my instinctive reflexes building up in preparation for the jaunty scare. I managed a lighthearted laugh as I awaited. Though, I was once again greeted with an eerie silence in regards to an empty vicinity, excluding myself alone in a room. I did not take my eyes off of the now blackness of the hall, unsure wether to hope for movement or feel secured within the placid emptiness. I decided to avert my attention, and felt myself examine the room. It was, truly, undisturbed. No movement caught my eye, as nothing was to be seen. I felt as though time had halted, and I, the pothead I am, was centered in the middle of it, but all of that had abruptly ceased. I made the mistake of turning back towards the door, and cannot express the result of this lightly. Throughout this experience, I had heard and never seen, apart from this moment. I had turned to look out into the hallway when I swear I had made eye contact with something residing in the void that was outside the door. I can’t go as far as to explain any detail but the pure blackness and the bright intensity of the pair of optics as the next happening took a painful grasp on every nerve in my body. I had hardly a moment to process the situation before a loud, thunder like bang exploded, hitting the wall behind me like something had bolted right for me in an attempt to attack. Looking back, I collect that the pair of eyes I had seen were my own, and I myself was the attacker amidst the isolation. We are all prey, subject to the threats that haunt our minds, and maybe sometimes we undergo an attack from something that we can only see from what beholds both our minds and body.
Story Number Two
My Little Pink Ghost
My story is a long one, but bear with me…it’s a wild ride.
I grew up in a house that was built in 1902. I was born in the late 80’s, so the house had been remodeled a few times. It was a two story house with three bedrooms and a tiny bathroom on the second floor. The bathroom was at the top of the stairs, and my room was across the hall at kind of an angle. My sister and my parents had room’s further down a long, narrow hallway.
For as long as I can remember, I saw a ghost. I called her Pam. My mom told me I began talking about Pam around the age of 5, and in her words “I never stopped.” My mom never believed any of this, and just brushed it off as my imagination.
Pam was pink and transparent. A see through, totally pink little girl. Maybe 8 or 9 years old. She knew I could see her, I knew she could see me. But she never made a sound. Ever. Nothing. She walked around only the upstairs and never came down the steps. Honestly, I have no idea where the name Pam came from.
Growing up, Pam would sit at the top of the stairs waiting for me to run up to the bathroom after I got home from school. I would walk around her because she was always there. Every day. If she wasn’t sitting on the step, she would be just sitting on a bed or standing in the rooms or hallway. Harmless for the most part. However, if I ignored her, she would mess up my bedroom while I was gone doing my paper route; and when I would get back home, my parents would be all sorts of angry over my messy room. But if I said a quick “Hi”, she wouldn’t mess with me.
She never touched me, and I also never physically saw her move anything with my own eyes. But I would get really scared and nauseous every time she would destroy my room behind my back. So I learned very quickly to say hi to her everyday.
At the age of 15, my mom put me into therapy because I was still bringing up Pam here and there. Pam was still always around, I was used to her, and she wasn’t doing anything, so she didn’t come up in conversation as often. Therapy helped, but not with Pam.
When I was 17, my parents decided to put our house up for sale. I don’t know if it was all the people walking through, or me packing my stuff up, but something triggered Pam.
And it got REAL crazy.
About a month before our new house was built and ready to move in, I was asleep in my room. My bed was against the wall and I could lie on my side and see right into the bathroom. While asleep, I had a dream of Pam (still transparent) standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She pointed up and for the first time in my life, I heard Pam talk. She said “Look. That’s my mom.” I sat up in bed, and from the light fixture saw a dark haired woman, hanging lifeless by a rope. Her boot fell off of her foot, hit the floor, and I woke up. Holy. Shit.
I couldn’t say anything because my family never saw her. They didn’t understand. Pam wasn’t in their lives like she was in mine.
I didn’t really dwell too much on it. It was a dream. Pam was back to sitting on the top step the next day. Life as usual. But two weeks later, I had another dream.
It started out exactly like the first one. The bathroom light was on, and I could kind of see in while lying down in bed. But this time. I heard weird grunting and splashing. I sat up, and saw clear as day, the woman that was hanging from the light fixture only she was alive, and holding Pam (no longer translucent) under the water in our bathtub.
SHE WAS DROWNING PAM IN OUR BATHTUB!
I don’t have any idea what made me wake up, but I couldn’t contain my emotion. I ran down the hall and jumped into my parents bed (yes at 17 years old). It was just my mom in there, I think my dad fell asleep on the couch or something. But I was hysterical. I told my mom everything through tears and gasps for air. My mom didn’t know what to say.
Then, in the middle of my sadness, Pam walked into the doorframe of my parent’s bedroom. She was transparent again. I quickly laid down really close to my mom and pulled the covers over my head. I just remember saying “Oh my god Mom, she’s in here”.
I held my breath, and seconds later I felt cold small hands on my back, shoving me against my mom.
I kept yelling “STOP TOUCHING ME!”
My mom could only reply with
“IM NOT TOUCHING YOU!”
This went on for what felt like forever, but was probably only a matter of seconds. When she stopped, she just stood there, at the side of the bed, staring at me. She didn’t move. I pulled the covers over my head again, and ended up crying myself to sleep while my mom held me. We were both shaking horribly.
I moved all of my stuff out the next day, and slept on the floor of our unfinished house the next few nights until my bedroom was done. I never went back.
Shortly after my family moved out completely (before the next buyers moved in), the entire back of the house, and the entire garage went up in fire. The official cause “spontaneous combustion”. The first people to buy and sell the house after us, lasted 10 months there. They called my parents to tell them that the couldn’t keep the window or closet door shut in the room with the black carpeting (my bedroom…I wanted black carpet when I was 15).
I saw the house posted a couple of months ago on Zillow, and the only picture of my room shows the door open a crack, you can see a bit of the black carpet, but there’s nothings in the room. The rest of the house is furnished.
I’ve tried so hard to find any information about the girl that’s in my old house. But there’s almost no information at all. Just basic architecture and lot line documents.
It’s the craziest story, I know! But this was my childhood. Part of me feels sorry for Pam, but another part of me know’s there’s something strong and dark in that house. I know Pam loved me, but I’ll never go back.
Story Number 3
The Empty Room
Chapter 1
X (We’ll call him that, his name is not important) walked up the the cold, naked stairs without really knowing where he was or how he had gotten there. He walked all the way up and in front of him was a normal sized room with two chairs and a coffee table. Nothing else.
He continued in and looked around. No windows, nothing but the two chairs and the coffee table. “Where am I” X thought to himself. “And how did I get here?”
He couldn’t remember anything before the stairs. He was dressed as he usually is. A pair of chinos, a T-shirt and his sneakers. He looked around trying to find something that could help him understand.
After a while X decided to sit down on one of the chairs. “That’s what you do with chairs, right” X thought to himself. “You sit in them”. He sat down, put one leg up and tried to look comfortable.
“Do you like taking walks with dogs” a clear voice said, right behind X and woke him up from his thoughts.
X turned around and saw a man. A stranger.
“What” X asked, trying to maintain his composure. “Why would you ask that?” X continued.
The stranger looked at him with a smile on his face. “Well, do you like taking walks with dogs?” the stranger asked again.
“Who are you?” X asked as he got more and more uncomfortable. “Where am I?” he continued.
The stranger walked up to him, poured himself a glass of water and sat on the empty chair next to X.
“I don’t remember there being water here” X thought to himself. “No, I’m quite sure there was nothing on that coffee table when I came in” he continued thinking.
The stranger was now sitting right in front of X, drinking his water as he waited for the answer.
The silence was deafening, and X tried to keep calm. In an attempt to regain control of the situation he straightened his back, pushed out his chest and said “Sure, I like dogs. I guess I like taking walks with dogs. Sure”. He tried sounding as in control and calm as possible.
The stranger looked at him for a few seconds before he opened his mouth and said “Do you like taking walks with dogs together with girls?”
The question hit X hard. It felt like his stomach was turning inside of him and he felt his mouth getting dry. “I don’t know what you’re asking me” he said with a soft and cracked voice. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on here” X desperately said, hoping for some kind of relief from the stranger.
The stranger poured another glass of water for himself and repeated his questions “Do you like taking walks with dogs together with girls?”
“I guess” X answered. “Sure”.
“And this dog, did it have another owner” the stranger asked with a smile on his face.
“What” X asked.
“The dog, the dog that you took for a walk with a girl. Did the dog have another owner?” the stranger said.
“I don’t know” X answered. “I guess, I don’t know. I mean, maybe there was another owner to the dog. I don’t know”
“You don’t know?” the stranger asked.
“Yeah” X said, trying to hide his nerves. “Maybe the dog had another owner, but I wouldn’t know who he or she is” X said, again trying to regain his composure.
“He or she” the stranger said while laughing. “He or she. Well, she did say you were smart” he continued while clapping his hand.
The stranger stood up and continued “You know who I am, right X? You know who I am?”
X looked at the stranger for a few seconds before he answered “yes” while trying to avoid eye-contact. “Yes, I know who you are” he repeated.
“Well…” the stranger asked, his smile gone.
“Well what?” X asked. “What?” X continued irritated.
“Well…what do you have to say?” the stranger asked while he sat down in the empty chair again.
X looked around the room. The room looked the same, but there was something different. He didn’t want to be there anymore. “I don’t want to be here anymore” X said while trying to get up. “I don’t want to” he continued and found he was unable to get up.
“You can’t leave yet” the stranger answered. “Not until you’ve answered for what you’ve done. Because, you do know what you’ve done, right?” the stranger asked.
X took a deep breath. “I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what you mean” he said deciding that he wouldn’t allow for this to continue. “I haven’t done anything. And I would like to leave, now!” he said with a raised voice.
The stranger smiled. “Tell me what you did, and then you can go” the stranger said.
X looked at the stranger. He started recognizing features now. Sure, he knew who it was but up until this point he was just a stranger with an unfamiliar look. But not anymore. He started noticing details. The loose fitting jeans, the semi-dirty T-shirt and the worn out shoes. “Was this really how he looked, or just how I’ve always imagined he would look” X thought to himself. The strangers face was dark, his hair black and he was a bit chubby.
X looked down on his shoes and a fear started building inside of him. He had prepared for this moment, he had. Heck, he had almost wished for it. But now that he was in it, it felt wrong. It was all wrong. He looked around the room again, avoiding eye-contact with the stranger as he panned around the room.
“Don’t do anything you can’t stand for, and stand for everything you’ve done” the stranger said with a smile.
Those were X words. Those were the words he would use whenever he judged someone for something they’ve done.
“Now tell me what you’ve done, and the consequences of your actions” the stranger said with a loud voice.
He was mad. X knew he was mad. He could hear it in his voice.
Story Number 4
True Scary Story from Facebook
I am 17 years old and everyone says that I cannot live without my phone. I am living in a big town with a lot of dangers. I live in a big town with a lot of dangers. Most of the day I’m chatting with girls from my area that I don’t know. I know that it is a little dangerous because I don t know them, but when I see that some of the girls are friends with people I know, I accept their request to talk.
One day I received a friend request from a really hot girl. She was from another city, but I was sure that we would never be so close to hang out. When I accepted her request a new message had arrived. It was my first time chatting with an older hot girl than me. Every day we were talking about our lives, we had also exchanged phone numbers, but we never talked on the phone. Every time I called her she was telling me that she was with her parents or she had to do a lot of homework but this was not a problem for me because we could chat.
Everything looks great, right? Well, now starts the scary part of the story. I was addicted to her, she was like a drug for me. I am sure that you cannot understand what I mean, but I couldn’t live without her and I understand this now. After 2 months, the time came. She asked me to go out with her because she would come to my city. I was excited and we decided to go to a remote and infamous park. It was not a problem for me the place, but the time. She said to me that she wanted to meet me at 1 a.m. I was sure that something was wrong and I had convinced myself that I would not go there. At that moment though I saw a strange message. She had started flirting and I liked it.
I had just done the worst mistake in my life, I agreed and we would meet each other. I thought that she wanted to do me some weird stuff, so this was the reason she had chosen this place, but I wanted to go with one of my friends to this park.
The moment had come and at 11:30 pm my friend Jim came to my house. We couldn’t wait so we went to the park in his father’s car. At midnight we were outside the park. I said goodbye to my friend and I went into the park. It was a really dark place and it was really quiet. I swear that I could hear my blood circulate in my veins. I was playing with my phone and realized it was already 01:00 a.m.
Suddenly, I heard a very heavy breath in a small distance from me. I was hearing the breathing coming closer and closer. I looked behind me and I saw a strong man with a knife. I did not know what to do. I panicked and I started running. I had never run so fast. He was following me and I didn’t know where to go. I saw my friend there and I told him to turn on the car. We left as fast as we could.
My friend told me that he thought something was wrong with this girl so he decided not to leave me alone. When I got home, I saw one message from the girl. It says ‘why the fuck did you run ?’
Story 5
The Reason Why I Can’t Go Outside at Night
I’m a single guy living in a rural area of Georgia, U.S. I moved out of my parents’ home into this house located miles away from civilization. It’s a cheap, yet decent house that is in a wide, open field next to a forest. The house itself is old, seemingly built in the early 1900s. Why did I choose this house? For one, I like the peace and quiet of the rural area. I’m not a big people person and I prefer to keep to myself. Whenever I’m not working at my job in the closest town, I’m at home either reading books, taking a walk through the field, watching TV, or playing the banjo which I’ve owned as a kid. Second, as I’ve stated, it was cheap and it was big enough to contain all of my valuables, including my vast DVD and Blu-Ray collection which I’ve been building as long as I can remember. Overall, It’s not the best house, but considering my budget, it was my best option…..or maybe it wasn’t.
The first month I lived here was normal. I go through my daily routine of going to my job then either going to the movie theater or going all the way back home and dabble in my various hobbies. Life was good …up until a certain night.
During that particular chilly night, I was sleeping in my cozy bed sleeping like a baby when all of a sudden I was woken up by a loud sound. The sound of an animal. But it wasn’t an animal that I’ve ever heard. Bewildered, I stood up in my bed and listened very closely. The first thing I noticed was that the usual sounds of the night were completely absent. No crickets…no wind…nothing. Then, I heard it again: The animalistic sound. I tried identifying the sound, but I could not for the life of me recognize what it could be. It sounded like a combination of a cat hissing and a gorilla scream. It was high-pitched and it sounded like it was nearby. I looked over to the window next to me and I could not believe what I was seeing.
Instead of seeing the pitch-black darkness of the night, I only saw the color white beyond the window. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief and pinched myself to make sure I was awake. Indeed, I was awake and every time I looked out the window, all I saw was whiteness. Flabbergasted, I got out of my bed and walked over to the window. Upon further inspection, I noticed that it was moving. More like, floating. It was fog. At first, I thought it was silly that I got myself worked up over a bit of fog. However, as I thought about it, the fact that there was fog was very strange. The weather conditions weren’t right and there was barely any clouds during the day. Plus, this fog was especially thick. I could hardly see more than a couple feet outside. I walked all around my house at all the windows, and sure enough, the fog was in front of all of them. My house was completely surrounded in a thick fog. I didn’t understand what was going on. Was this an elaborate prank? Was my state nuked? Am I going crazy?
Suddenly, I heard that noise again, and another one, and another one. Strange sounds that I’ve never heard of in my life. They were coming from all directions and they all sounded close. I started to panic and I sat in my living room chair. I slapped myself and yet I didn’t wake up, 100% confirming that I wasn’t in a freakish nightmare. My body was shaking, the hairs on my head were pointing up, and I felt my anxiety skyrocket. “Get a hold of yourself” I said to myself. There was a pause in the ghoulish noises and I was able to relax. I closed my eyes and meditated. I focused on my breathing. 1…2…3…4…5. I continued counting for god knows how long. After a while, I stopped. I felt my body relax and a sense of relief came over me. That didn’t last long though.
After 10 seconds, I suddenly got the feeling I was being watched. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. Door window? Nothing there. Window to my left? Nothing there. Window to my right…my god. I gazed at the window and what I saw was something that still haunts my nightmares to this day. Outside of the window peering in was a creature. It wasn’t human, it didn’t even look like an animal.
Its eyes were charcoal black. It had a gaping mouth that contained razor sharp teeth. Its skin was a sickly pale green and it was about 6’5 feet tall. It was tall enough that its head reached the top of the window. Worse of all, it was pressed up against the window, staring right at me.
My adrenaline kicked in and despite the fear, I managed to get up and run upstairs to my room. I grabbed my handgun, kept safe in a locked closet, and ran back downstairs for a possible confrontation. When I came back to the window, I almost screamed. The creature opened the window and was halfway inside. Yes, I had my windows unlocked. Dumb idea, I know, considering that my closest neighbor was 2 miles away and it would take a while for the police to arrive at my house in the case of an intruder. But I genuinely felt safe with how isolated I was and I opened my windows a lot to get a breeze. This, however, was a wake up call. I pointed my gun at the thing and shot at it several times. It made an ear-piercing cry and bolted back outdoors. I closed the window and locked it.
Next, I went around my house and made sure all the windows and doors were closed and locked. As I was doing this, the images of that creature ran in my mind. When it was reaching inside of my house, I saw more of its body. Its body was somewhat slender, and it’s arms were freakishly long. What made it even more unreal was the fact that it had three long prongs sticking out of its hand instead of fingers. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. What was this creature? What would have happened if it got all the way through? Did it have anything to do with the fog? My mind raced as much as my feet did, as I ran around my home, praying that whatever that thing was did not enter my home through another opening. Or who knows. There could be other things out there. After a thorough inspection, I was relieved when I checked out all the windows and doors and there didn’t seem to be any intruders. Everything was now on lockdown. I tried calling the police, but my phone couldn’t get a signal. The fog must have been messing with my phone’s signal. I reloaded my gun and I sat once again in my living room chair, waiting for the next confrontation.
I don’t know how long I was sitting in that chair for. All I know was that I was on high alert. I listened for every little sound. I stared out at the windows, expecting something to crash through it. The noises kept going on and off. I didn’t know what was out there, and how many of them there were. The feeling of anxiety and anticipation kept me awake and aware. Occasionally, I spotted some figures outside. Some of them flew by like hawks, some crawled on the windows and I could tell they were mutated bugs or something similar. Some of them were so big that I could only see their legs. I was half expecting a giant foot to come crashing down through the roof and squish me. The situation I was in was just so bizarre. It felt like one of those horror movies I watch frequently. The more I dwelled on it, I began to realize the possible consequences. Will this fog ever go away? Is this fog just covering my house? For all I know, the fog could have came down and covered the entire Earth, creating a bleak and blinding apocalypse that will end the world.
Despite all of this, I somehow managed to eventually fall asleep. When I woke up, I quickly checked my surroundings. The first thing I checked was the windows and it was at that moment that I breathed a sigh of relief. The morning light came in unfiltered and I observed the trees and the blue sky. My property was clear of the fog. I smiled wider than I’ve had in a long time. Maybe that was just a nightmare. A realistic, crazy nightmare. But that’s the thing, it felt too real. However, I brushed that feeling off and went outside to enjoy the fresh air. I stood on my porch, gazing at the beautiful sights, happy to see nature again. The trees were slightly moving in the wind. There were a couple rabbits roaming about searching for food. The flowers in my front yard were pretty as always. I like their bright colors. The dandelions have such a vibrant yellow color to them and as for the roses, I admire them for their red leaves and their red stems…wait, red stems?
I was taken aback when I noticed there was a bunch of red on my lawn. Upon closer inspection, it looked like blood. No way. No way this is real. I got a flashback to when I put several bullets into that thing last night. Was it real? I walked around my house and I was disturbed by some of the things I discovered. First, I saw a trail of blood leading from the window where I shot the creature to the spot in my front yard where I first discovered the blood. Not only that, but I noticed that the trail doesn’t lead anywhere. Not to my front door, and not to any direction where the forests are where the creature could be hiding. Second, I saw signs of other monstrosities congregating close to my house. I saw scratches on my back window. There were footprints circling my house. How do I know there were footprints without there being any mud or snow? Because whatever this creature was, it was heavy enough to leave clear footprints in the goddamn grass. They were very noticeable footprints, similar to those of a bear, except a bit bigger and more triangular.
I sprinted back inside and checked the windows. They were all locked like I had them last night. Upstairs, I saw my gun closet open, just as I left it in my rush. I tried denying the reality of it all. Coming up with excuses for how all these things could have happened just like in my dream. But no, this is reality. What happened last night was real. But if that’s the case, what happened to the fog? And what happened to everything that was in it? For the rest of the day, I stayed inside contemplating what happened. Thankfully it was my day off, or else I would not have been able to concentrate on my work. I went through my routine of tidying up the house then relaxing, watching TV, then meditating. I managed to clear my head up and my anxiety eased. I avoided talking about the fog to anyone, as I don’t want to be seen as crazy. Plus, it sounds so fictitious that people would automatically assume I’m joking. I kept myself busy until the night time where I had to prepare for work the next day. At this point, I thought whatever was up with that fog, it was a one time phenomenon. I look back on that thought and think, “I was so naive”.
After my night routine of taking a shower, putting on deodorant, and brushing my teeth, I went into my bedroom with my pajamas on, clean and feeling good. At this point, it was a little past 10 PM. I closed my eyes and prepared to fall asleep any second, when suddenly, I heard noises. My eyes opened wide and my heartbeat accelerated. I heard footsteps right outside my house. Big, loud footsteps. I hesitantly looked at my window and sure enough, the fog was back. I jumped out of bed and made sure every entrance was closed and locked again. The noises of indescribable roars and cries happened again. It was a repeat of the other night. After checking that my house was secured, I ran to my bedroom and retrieved the gun again. I closed the curtains and locked the bedroom door. I slid into bed, holding my gun in fear. I wanted to stay up for a while, to be prepared for a monster crashing through a door or window and trying to get to me. But I needed to get some sleep. I couldn’t afford to start going to work tired and groggy. I forced myself to sleep by meditating and counting numbers. Despite the anxiety and fear, I managed to fall asleep after a while.
My alarm woke me up at 6 AM like usual. As soon as I opened my eyes, I grabbed my gun and pointed it around my room, ready for something to be there and try to charge at me. Fortunately, there was no such creature. “Thank heavens,” I said. I turned the alarm off and went through my morning routine. As I went outside to go to my car, I noticed brand new footprints and even some green ooze that I’ve never seen before. I shrugged it off and drove to work. The rest of my day was the same business as usual. Again, I didn’t bring the fog up at all, and I didn’t bother to contact the police. Even with the evidence in my yard, they would just say that it was wildlife and that I should get a dog to scare them off. Only I knew the terrors of the fog. Only I knew that a dog would not save me if I ever dared to go outside at night.
I wanted to get away from that house immediately, to move away and never see it again. Unfortunately I had spent most of my savings on that house. It would take me years, perhaps decades if I didn’t move up in the workplace, to buy another house, and I was too embarrassed to move back in with my parents, plus I couldn’t think of a logical excuse why I would move out of a seemingly normal house so quickly without bringing up the fog and sounding like a lunatic. I was alone in my dilemma. I was stuck in this cursed house, doomed to repeat the nightly horrors surrounding me. Doomed to sleep through the horrific noises and the constant anxiety of of something breaking into my house and getting me, every night. I started boarding up my windows and I installed some extra locks on my front and back doors. It was something to ease my fear. I don’t care if I looked like a lunatic to anyone who visits me or happens to drive by my house, I was more safe from those…things. I could no longer play my banjo long into the night like I used to. I keep my gun next to me every night, in case I have to deal with the worst case scenario.
As for how the fog appears, that is the interesting part. It seems to appear around 10 PM and stay until around 5 AM. Some nights I stare outside, observing where the fog comes from. It always seems to come down from the sky. Where exactly? I don’t know. I was always too afraid to go outside and stand out there to observe where exactly it came from. It’s not worth it. The fog comes down so fast that even if I stood just 15 feet from my front door and tried to run back in as it came down, there is a good chance that something will already be in the fog and drag me further into it, killing and possibly eating me. As for why the fog approaches this particular house? Your guess is as good as mine. It’s possible that it happens to other houses, but asking people if a fog surrounds their house at night is something you don’t tend to ask people during small talk.
All I know is that as long as I live in this house, I am cursed to live in this neverending nightmare.
