Welcome to Scary Story Time by Spooky Boo
Good evening, it’s Spooky Boo coming to you from KSND radiowaves from the lighthouse in Sandcastle, California. Tonight I bring to you several creepy stories from the internet. These stories may or may not be true. I’ll let you be the judge. Tell me what you think by visiting www.scarystorytime.com.
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Now let’s begin…
Pat and the Man in White
Written by NerdxCorexCreep
I used to live in a haunted house. When most people hear me say that, they chuckle and don’t usually believe me, but I’d seen undeniable proof of the ghost (whom I’d come to refer to as Patrick, or Pat for short) that inhabits my home. In fact, on a few occasions, I’d seen him with my own eyes.
Typically, when people think of haunted houses, they think of old, dusty, two-story homes that were built on Native American burial grounds, or was the place of a death years prior. I can tell you now, neither of those is the case when it comes to my home. My grandfather built this house after he married my grandmother, and it’s been in my family ever since.
After my grandparents died, it was inherited by my father, and after he and my mother passed, it came to me. You might be thinking that Pat must be the ghost of my grandfather or father, but no, that’s wrong too. He’s been around ever since my grandfather completed construction.
It wasn’t like he was there during the process of building the house either. Pat literally showed up the day after all of the work was said and done. Obviously, this initially freaked my grandparents out. Nothing malicious ever happened, though, just some sounds of footsteps, the occasional sounds of the doors opening and closing, and the drop of temperature in whatever room Pat was in at the time.
The thought of a ghost being in their home, however, just didn’t sit right with them at first. They tried everything they could to banish him. They called in priests and even an exorcist, but nothing ever worked. After many attempts, they had contemplated selling the house and moving away, but my grandfather just wouldn’t accept that.
He had built that house with his own two hands, and that pride wouldn’t allow him to abandon it. Eventually, my grandparents learned to live with Pat. As I said, he was never malicious or did anything to cause harm. He was just… there.
After my grandparents died, my father thought that their ghosts would linger around the house as well, but that never happened. Pat was the only entity around, and it would stay that way. My father tried to learn more about Pat by researching the area where we lived but never found any credible results. It was as if Pat just materialized out of nowhere once the house was finished.
One time, when I was a teenager, a group of friends came over and we tried to communicate with Pat through an Ouija board. My parents had strictly forbidden this, so of course, being the teenage dumbass that I was, I decided to do it anyways behind their backs. This is usually the part of the story where all kinds of hell would break loose because of the Ouija board… but that didn’t happen.
After many unsuccessful attempts to contact him, Pat finally showed himself to us. His body was faint, and we couldn’t make out any real features other than the shape of his body. He looked to be about my height and weight, had short hair, black dress pants, and a white dress shirt.
“Hi… Pat,” I said in a quiet voice. He stood there and gave me a confused look, and then slightly smirked, closed his eyes, and lifted his arm in a wave. I continued, “Pat’s probably not your name right?”
He shook his head, keeping the smirk on his face. I continued on, “Well… can you tell me your name?” The smirk left his face and was replaced by a sad look. He looked down to the floor, and then to me, and shook his head again.
I had guessed that he must not be able to speak, which made sense seeing as there had never been any moans, or wails, or anything else vocal that you’d expect from a haunting. “You can use the board,” I informed him, pointing to the wooden box. He walked over to it and using his finger, spelled out: “D-O-N-T-R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R.”
He looked up at me again, still a sad look in his eyes. “Is it alright that I call you Pat?” I asked, for the sake of him at least having a name. He nodded, and the smirk came back.
After that experience with Pat, my friends and I decided to look into other paranormal activities. We live in Ohio, so there was plenty to look into. There is only one experience, however, that stands out from the rest… and it would be the last.
After inheriting the house following the death of my father from a years-long battle with cancer (my mother had died giving birth to me), I turned it into a base of operations for my friends and I. We would meet there and plan out where we would investigate.
This time, it was an old abandoned mental hospital that was known as “The Ridges.” It was famously known to be haunted so I was particularly excited to visit it, as it had been a dream of mine to do so ever since we first got into the paranormal game. As we pulled up to the front gates in our van, I could feel my heart racing from excitement.
I have to advise anyone thinking of doing this to NOT DO THIS. Not only is it actually trespassing since overnight investigations aren’t allowed, but what I encountered here scared me off of paranormal investigation for the rest of my life. It was when we stepped foot on the grounds, that the horror would really begin.
After jumping the gates and walking around outside. I noticed something in a window of one of the upper floors. I could see a man… standing there staring at me. He was completely white from head to toe… white closes, pale skin, even white hair.
Something about him made me feel incredibly uneasy, and everyone else said the same. We all knew that something was wrong because never before had we been scared off of a location this easily before. We got out of there pretty quickly, packed into the van, and took off.
“Um, guys?” said Andrew, who was sitting in the back of the van with his wife, Jen. My girlfriend, Jaimie, and I looked out of the back window and saw what he was seeing. There was the man in white, standing in the middle of the road, the only part of him not white being his eyes which were instead glowing a bright red.
I could feel my heart racing as we all tried to register what we had just seen. Soon I felt myself start to doze off when Andrew once again exclaimed, “Guys!” I sprang awake as Jaimie and I turned around. “That thing is following us,” he continued.
As we looked out of the window again, Jaimie squeezed my arm. The man in white was directly behind us, and it looked like he was just standing in place, but he was somehow keeping up with the car. At this point, we had all started to freak out and I turned around to tell Bill, the driver, to speed it up.
As I turned back around to look out of the window again I noticed that the man in white was gone. “Where did he go?” I asked Andrew. “I- I don’t know,” he responded, “He just disappeared.”
We thought that maybe we outran it or it just gave up, but then Jen started to act weird. Andrew had said she was feeling really sick so she went to sleep on his shoulders. We didn’t think anything of it and just chalked it up to her being exhausted.
When we got home Andrew, Jen, and Bill said their goodbyes and left. We were concerned about Jen because she still looked like absolute crap, and we hoped she was feeling better in the morning. Later that night, I began to feel sick myself.
I felt like I was gonna throw up, and ran to the bathroom but nothing came out. I walked over to the sink and noticed how pale I was looking. I decided to turn in for the night, and Jaimie agreed to stay the night to keep an eye on me.
I fell asleep and was soon awoken by loud noises. My initial thought was that Pat must be active again, so at first, I ignored it. It just kept going, however, which sounded like someone rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen,
Suddenly, there was the sound of crashing and screaming. I recognized the voice as being Jaimie, so I sprang out of bed and into the kitchen, where the source of the noise was. Standing there, was the man in white, standing over the bloodied body of my girlfriend.
There were what appeared to be knife wounds all over her body, and a horrified look of pain and fear was frozen on her face. I screamed in anguish at the sight of her corpse, and with tears of anger in my eyes, I ignored my initial fear and ran directly at the man in white, tackling him and knocking the knife out of his hand.
He put up a fight as I landed blow after blow on him, but I overpowered him surprisingly easily. Throughout it all, not a single drop of blood stained his clothes. He remained entirely clean and the only parts of him that was red were his demonic-looking red eyes.
I reached over and grabbed the knife, ready to plunge it into his chest, but suddenly I felt a hand grab my arm. I looked over and it was Pat. He was completely solid now and I could see more features. On his face was a greying goatee and his short hair also had spots of gray. Honestly, he looked similar to my father, with some minor differences here and there. “Don’t,” he said to me as he took the knife from my hands.
He placed the knife on a counter and walked over to the man in white, who was now standing. A look of anger was plastered on his pale face, and the red eyes looked even more terrifying. “No,” said Pat, as he grabbed the man by the throat, “not this time.”
A look of fear replaced the anger on the pale man’s face as Pat turned his head to face me. He gave me that signature smirk and nodded his head. I was completely confused as to what was happening, but I nodded in response.
Pat then turned his attention to the man in white, still gripping his throat with both hands, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, a bright light came from Pat and engulfed them both. I could hear the sounds of a demonic wail as the light swallowed them and disappeared.
Along with the light, Pat and the man in white were gone. Suddenly I looked to the floor where I had beaten up the man in white and saw… Jaimie. She was crying and shivering in fear, her face bruised and bloody.
“Jaimie!” I exclaimed as I tried to approach her, but she screamed and backed away from me. I looked at my hands, still covered in the blood that was not my own, and looked over at Jaimie. It was at that moment that I realized what I had done.
It wasn’t the man in white that I was attacking… it was Jaimie. She sat on the floor, her arms around her knees and sobbed. I fell to my knees and sobbed into my hands.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, “I’m so sorry.”
This was 10 years ago. I’ve never experienced anything paranormal ever since as I’d given up the desire to seek it out. Even Pat is gone. I never saw him again after he and the man in white were engulfed by the bright light.
All of my friends and my now ex-girlfriend are no longer a part of my life. The reason the man in white took so long to attack me and Jaimie was that he first attached himself to Jen. They weren’t so lucky, and Jen ended up throwing Andrew out of their bedroom window… and jumped herself after realizing what she had done.
Bill was next, and he ended up getting hit by a car after running into the middle of traffic. After that was when the man in white possessed me. The only reason Jaimie and I are alive was because of Pat. He stopped me from killing her, and he saved my life in the process.
Jaimie understood the situation, but couldn’t stand being around me regardless. Seeing me kept reminding her of our friends, and she never forgot the experience of me nearly beating her to death. She left me shortly after she was released from the hospital.
She claimed that she was attacked by a random assailant, so I never faced any repercussions for what I had done, even though a part of me still feels that I should, even if I was manipulated by some evil entity. It was my hands that hurt her. I never forgave myself.
I miss Jaimie. I miss all of my friends. Most of all, though, I miss Pat.
He was there my entire life. I don’t know what exactly happened between him and the man in white, but he’s gone now and I blame myself. I brought that thing into my home because I was nosing around where I didn’t belong… Pat saved me and Jaimie and sacrificed himself to do it… and none of it had to even happen.
I don’t know where Pat came from, and I don’t know where he went. I don’t know if he was a ghost, an angel, or something else, but I am thankful that he was a part of my family for so many years. I hope that wherever he is, he is at peace.
Return
Roman was an occultist. How he came to be involved in that field though, many speculate to. Whether he had become involved out of his blatant curiosity or for darker purposes, every rumor possible had been spread about him. But what can one expect? When one reaches a certain level of fame and authority they begin to receive, often times unwanted, attention. This was the case with Roman.
He was nothing spectacular to look at. He wore round spectacles that laid on his long nose, shallow emerald eyes, a distinguished goatee and chin, rugged black hair which dropped just below his ears, and was fairly pale. This middle-aged professor from Ohio had never been the life of a party, nor had he ever gone to one of his own free will. Reserved, quiet, and altogether a simple and private man Roman kept to himself. He had received his doctorates in Occultism and Medieval Metaphysics from the Miskatonic University of Arkham, Massachusetts. Many say that this is where he really began to flourish as an occultist. With access to the University’s extensive library he had read many of its fabled books and learned much in his respective fields, perhaps a bit more he admitted then he had ever wanted to learn.
Upon his graduation he began to work with paranormal investigators, psychics, mediums, covens, and others associated with the occult. Though, he often worked alone, the income from giving lectures on Medieval Metaphysics at Universities across the globe had allowed him the freedom to do so. His work with the paranormal was were his infamy came from, however, Roman expected as much and had said many times, “Civilization has always feared what it cannot comprehend.” This account is of the last investigation Roman went on.
It all started when Roman received a call from a source unknown to him asking for his expertise during an investigation at a residential house in the Cleveland area of Ohio. It was possessed by some dark, dread force. Roman, being the man he was, agreed to assist and packed his usual things. Living not to far from the house in question Roman arrived later that same fall night; and being met by a group of three (one of whom was a woman–the one who had originally made the call for assistance, as she was terrified and couldn’t deal with the entity in her home any longer) they told him of their struggles.
The woman and her husband had moved into the home only a few months prior, and began experiencing strange happenings in their home almost immediately. Trying to pass them off as odd coincidences or forgetfulness with leaving objects in odd places the being within soon took a darker turn when, in their slumber, they saw disembodied eyes or a disembodied mouth in the blackness of a dreamless sleep. They thought it at first to be the normal strangeness of the dreamworld, but when both began to have the exact same dreams they thought something to be amiss. Soon, in their waking they would see the eyes or the mouth around their home and abroad.
The two continued to explain to Roman as they entered the house and took seats in the living room, that these two entities had never harmed them, but that they would begin having blackouts for hours at a time; sometimes losing entire days from their memory. When they came to, they discovered themselves sitting on the couch where they were now. It was then that they called in their friend to hold a séance, since their friend was considered a medium.
Roman sat quietly as he listened to everything they told, but he already had an idea of what the entity may be. He held his words until all was explained, and even then, he didn’t tell what he thought. Roman found it silly to make any guesses until he interacted with whatever it was directly and he didn’t want to frighten the sad group that had called on his assistance; so he listened as their friend, the medium, continued on.
He explained that, during their séances, they were unable to contact the two beings in the house; rather, in the visible heat trails from the candles they had lit, they were able to make out what appeared to be a set of eyes, looking at each one of them and blinking before vanishing. Thus far, all other attempted séances got them nowhere and they haven’t been able to communicate with the beings. It was at this point that they contacted Roman.
“Hmmm,” Roman finally spoke, “have you yet to try a Ouija board?” After a short pause, the husband told that they hadn’t. It was now nearing ten o’clock in the evening and the sun had since set, the stars hung in the sky ominously. Looking out the window for a moment, Roman could have sworn he saw a grin in the way the empty voids of space shaped between the stars. Then Roman reached to the side of the chair where he had set his briefcase. Opening it, he removed a Ouija board and set it upon the table that was at the center of the four; he also took out a thick, leather bound book and set it on his lap.
“Then we shall use one. I’m certain you are all familiar with how it is used,” they nodded and Roman moved forward. He placed the tips of his fingers on the planchette, slowly the other three crept forward. Sweat dripped down their necks, as fear began to clutch them. There was a sense that they were all being watched and they could all feel an ever so faint chill of freezing air on their faces. The moment all four had their finger tips resting on the planchette the lights flickered, dimmed, and then went out; all in less then six seconds. The wife, with a scream, jumped back from the board and curled up on the couch, shaking in utter fear.
As the terrified woman leapt back and her husband went to comfort her, a grim laugh echoed throughout the house, the young couple looked around frantically in dread. Roman’s eyes darted around, scanning the darkened house. The medium and Roman were the only ones who still had had their finger tips pressed to the planchette and as the two searched the room with their eyes, the woman pointed at the board as she was gibbering incoherently and they stared at the board. Suddenly the house went silent and everyone could see their breath, the sliding of the planchette on the board was deafening. Yet, it slid gracefully across the board as it created a wretched scraping noise. Goosebumps were clearly seen by Roman on the medium’s arms and the hair on his arms stood straight up. Roman himself, could feel the tingling sensation of electricity running through his arm, down to his fingertips and into the planchette and board. He knew this feeling well, the entity or entities were channeling their energy into the board to communicate. From the center of the board, the planchette slid slowly, spelling out its greeting: H-E-L-L-O.
“Spirit, may I ask who you are,” Roman questioned, the couple cowered still on the couch, watching the exchange with a focus only fear could give. Again, the planchette slid: I – it went to an empty space to indicate the starting of a new word. A-M again, to an empty space. E-Y-E-S.
Before Roman could ask another question, again the planchette moved, its sound against the wooden board was like nail on a chalk board. Above the board, a floating shadow figure formed into a pair of eyes, blinked, and disappeared. Sliding at a steady, slow, and methodical pace to communicate it spelled out: I A-M M-O-U-T-H.
“Why are you here?” the wife screamed at the board, sounding as if in agony. The air became colder still, and the house shook with a laugh. The board shook on the table and the two removed their fingers from the planchette. A thumping from the walls and a stomping was heard from every room in the house. A shadow mouth formed above board where the eyes had been, and grinned evil, baring its teeth at all four of them. The mouth darted forward and dissipated against the medium’s face, who pressed against his chair, sweat pouring from his brow and his breathing heavy in fear. Then silence. The woman, who was too afraid to talk then, was followed up by her husband. “Answer us!”
“Be careful,” Roman ordered, yelling with his teeth held together, making his words into a hissing sound as he spoke them, “these are no ordinary spirits.” The medium had fallen completely still and silent. Roman took the book from his lap that he had earlier taken out and searched through it until he came across the passage he searched for. He read it to himself.
The Eyes and Mouth
These two beings are known to be visible only when there is no other light present. They appear as a set of eyes with black pupils and/or a mouth with glistening white teeth. Who they are or what they are is unknown, nevertheless, cults worship them and they are mentioned in some form or another across all cultures. There is a common poem their worshipers or those seeking them out use to call upon them. It is stated in this poem that these beings will grant a wish in exchange of some service to them. The poem is as such:
Eyes and Mouth I call on you,
And your bidding I will do.
Please come to your servant dear,
And my wish I plead you’ll hear.
Roman looked up from the book he had taken from the Miskatonic University, not bothering to read the parts on the rituals, cults, and other entities associated with these beings as he had had enough. With a slam he closed the dark, leather bound book, and glared at the two, “What did you two wish for,” he demanded. The same laughing that shook the house was heard.
“We just wanted a better life,” the wife pleaded as if before an executioner, they knew what they had done, but not the task asked of them.
Processing their stories, the experience so far and the information read Roman had come to a conclusion, “They’ve taken your free will, the moment you all lose consciousness is when these two take control of you for the exchange,” he accused them, “and you didn’t tell me you did this and expect me to get you out of it? You sold your souls, I can’t get them back.” Anger boiled in Roman’s gut, he hated when clients did this. Expecting he could save them from a bargain they struck, he took all he had brought and stuffed it back into his briefcase. He had no intention of trying any further, it was a lost cause and he knew it. The couple pleaded with him, begging him not to give up but to help.
Roman snorted at them, “You should know better then to make bargains with eldritch things,” and began to leave the cursed family, when a chill on his neck stopped him dead in his tracks. He could feel the icy breath smacking him and some unseen, black force commanded him to turn around and so he did.
Not but a cubit from his face was the medium. However, his head was a darkness deeper then the lightless, endless void of a black hole; and a wide grin stretched from what should have been ear-to-ear. The smile reminded him of a certain cat in a book that had been read to him as a child. The teeth bared in a deadly grin. Struck with fear Roman didn’t move, didn’t speak. “Oh mortal, doomed to die. Are you frightened,” the Mouth questioned him in a voice that reverberated terror and smelt of atmosphere. “It matters not,” the Eyes appeared above the Mouth and Roman looked and saw that the bodies of the three who called upon him were gone without a trace, “because we have you now.” A creeping void filled the world around Roman, he was now floating in nothingness.
“Why are you doing this?” Roman whispered, his voice shaking as he stared at the two, the Eyes remained fixated on him, as the Mouth moved over to his left ear.
“Be careful, we are no ordinary spirits,” the Mouth mocked him. Roman tried to look over, but couldn’t break from the gaze of the Eyes. “You stole a very important book, and they want it back.”
“T-they?” Roman barely managed to speak out, he could feel something winding around him, suffocating him and squeezing him. He didn’t struggle though, he knew better, and resigned to accept the fate he had found.
“We, us, they, it makes no difference,” the Mouth moved back into Roman’s vision, “but you mortals took it, and you Roman, you have brought it out from the seal which held it, and we are here to reclaim it.”
Roman’s vision faded, the last thing he saw being the grin of the Mouth opening wide, revealing between its teeth the fabled book he had taken from the Miskatonic University. Then, the last thing he felt was being pulled down by a force that twined and writhed around his body. Roman was gone.
And so the beings of the outer reaches of this universe have inspired Roman’s tale to be written as a warning to mortals of Earth who seek after dark things. Things they created that fell into mortal hands, then sealed and kept from them. Woe to you who keep these dark treasures for yourselves and do not return them. For humanity is not ready.
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That’s all for tonight. I’ll see you in your nightmares.
