| | Mood: scared and tired...
Hello, world. In light of it being Friday the 13th, I thought I'd follow along in an old tradition. So, Nikki, this little post is for you!! *wink wink* It is an old tradition of mine, and some close friends, to tell ghost/scary stories on the 13th. Yes yes... corny, I know, but fun nonetheless. So, since the lack of opportunity to tell these stories in person, I have managed to find three acceptable stories that I wished to share with the world as well as my friends. So, here you are!
Note: Some of these stories may scare you shitless... Or, they may just be super lame... Take your pick...
Second Note: Click on the title to read the rest of the story...
The Locket
It was pure chance that he found it. Clive Franson would not have gone out on such a filthy wet night if not for Roger, his old spaniel, being so insistent on taking his evening walk. If he had not paused to let a car pass before he crossed Samson Street just where he had, he certainly would not have spotted it.
It was as he glanced down to ensure Roger was safely at heel, that he caught the glint of something reflected in the car's headlights. The occupant of the car, old Mrs Charlesworth from Hill Crescent, gave him a cheery wave as she drove carefully by. He returned the wave with his usual sheepish grin before bending to investigate. What made him do so puzzled him later; he was not normally inquisitive. Somehow though, he felt almost drawn to the gleaming object.
The rainwater was rushing along the gutter at the side of the road in a heavy stream, carrying the object along with it. Clive's gloved fingers fumbled clumsily, his first attempt to get a grip of it failed and it was swept on, twisting and turning in the stream. It was fortunate that his next attempt succeeded; otherwise, he would not have had another chance to rescue the object. The water was flowing rapidly along the gutter and down a gurgling drain, the object with it. His clutching fingers grasped it just as it reached the metal grid of the drain cover, a moment later and it would have been lost forever...
Enjoy Your Meal
Carver was watching her again. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck. He gave her the creeps when he stared at her like that. Why couldn't he go and pester somebody else?
Sandra crammed the Styrofoam box into the bag, almost spilling its contents as her fingers, made nervous by Carver's penetrating gaze, played tricks on her.
"There you go, sir. One Special, fries and a strawberry shake," she said to the youth at the counter, uncomfortably aware of the dubious look he gave her spotted face and the trickle of sweat running down her cheek.
"Enjoy your meal, and please call again."
Sandra handed the bag to the youth and turned her fixed, artificial smile to the next customer, a housewife with a legion of offspring in tow.
"Yes madam, how may I help you?"
"Four Kiddymeals, a Fishyslice, one Megaburger with double cheese, a Baconburger, one Special, two big fries, three small fries, a coffee, two Chocshakes and three Orangolas," the woman reeled off at breakneck pace.
Sandra's big fingers rattled clumsily over the keypad, desperately trying to keep up with the rapid-fire order as she punched it into the till. Still feeling Carver's eyes upon her, she prayed that she'd got it right. What a disaster it would be if she got it wrong while he was watching her...
The Watcher
Atop the very highest peak, he sat on his throne of stone. He was the wisest being that had ever been. He had been seated there since the beginning of time. He had never spoken.
He simply watched.
From his lofty perch, he could survey the whole world. He had seen its birth. In the beginning, there had been darkness and nothingness. Then had come mighty explosions and searing flames and terrible storm. It was an awesome conflagration; it ripped and tore and shaped and moulded. It lasted many centuries. Throughout it all, he watched. He said nothing.
In the fullness of time came a day when the explosions quieted, the flames died and the storm subsided. Then came an aeon-long period of stillness and silence. Nothing moved; there was nothing to move. Nothing made a sound; there was nothing to make a sound.
He watched. He said nothing.
Then came rain: a great and mighty deluge. It flooded the world and made it clean and poured down for many decades. The rains ceased; the waters settled and sank into the earth. Streams were born and rivers, then seas and oceans.
He watched. He said nothing... |
