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 Ghost Stories...

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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Ghost Stories...   Sun Jan 25, 2009 6:03 pm

By MunstersBabe

Date: 2009-01-21
Country: United States

I was a month away from delivering my first child when my MawMaw
passed away from complications of diabetes. Her death struck me hard
and it hurt me like no other pain I ever felt in my life. I got to her
5 minutes too late and I felt like I never got to tell her goodbye. I
was crying those body-shaking sobs and my mom and aunt was scared I
would deliver my baby early. I was helped to the floor where I could
cry and not stumble around and hurt myself. I was a real mess that
night. She was supposed to have been there to teach me how to be a good
mother to my child. I was angry at God for taking her away from me.
I had my baby in March of 1998 and he was about three months old
when the phone calls came. I had my portable baby monitor clipped to my
shorts and I was outside hanging clothes out on the line. I had just
finished the first load and was going in to wash another load of
clothes when the phone rang.
I answered it, but I couldn't hear the person on the other end very
clearly. I kept saying, "Hello? Is there anyone there?" All I heard was
a weird metallic-like whisper on the other end. I thought it was
strange and hung up. A couple of minutes later, the phone rang again
and I answered it. The same noise was on the phone. Just like before, I
was saying, "Hello? Is there anyone there?" I was about to hang up the
phone when I heard my name. It struck me funny because it sounded just
like my MawMaw who had died a few months ago. I said, "MawMaw! Is that
you?" I burst out crying. The voice on the other end of the phone said,
"I love you and that baby. I'm okay now. Happy. Goodbye."
After I hung up, I bawled. (I'm wiping tears from my eyes as I type
this right now.) I knew that she was no longer in pain and she wanted
to let me know that she loved me and her great-grandson.
I told my husband (at the time) what happened and he thought I was
going through post-partum depression. I called my MawMaw's best friend
and she told me she got a phone call from my MawMaw the same day.

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Male Number of posts : 444
Age : 33
Location : helms deep
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Jan 25, 2009 9:34 pm

BoBoT wrote:

dito ako natakot.. Sad
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Number of posts : 121
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Thu Jan 29, 2009 12:57 pm

Tears coming from the eye..
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 1:30 pm

Tik... sabi mo dati nung nag bibike tayu... may humahabol sa likod mo... tps pag lingon mo ule nawala... tps nasa GIlid mo na pla...

Tps pumikit ka nwala ule... hinanap mo tps pag lingon mo sa Harap andun...

Panu pag nag Ddrive ka?

Pag tingin mo sa salamin merong babae sa likod mo malapit sa tenga mo...

Oh no! Twisted Evil
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Number of posts : 287
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 1:45 pm

e ikaw takot sa ipis.... Razz KALA MO!

anlaki mong aso ih..prang ipis lang tsktsk
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 1:52 pm

at least d aq umiiyak... naktatalukbong... sumisiksik sa pinaka malapit na tao at nakukuyos pag nanonood ng Horror Movie...

hahahaha Twisted Evil

Papapache ka pa ah...

maraming tao ayaw sa ipis...

pero bihira ang mga Grown men na... tulad nung nabanggit sa taas... Basketball tongue Twisted Evil
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Number of posts : 287
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 1:54 pm

san ka nakakita asong takot sa ipis..lalo na ung flying ipis Razz
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 2:00 pm

sa cavite... dun sa may island cove... natakot ung aso...

OH ano? kala mo ah
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Number of posts : 287
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 2:01 pm

anu meron dun sa island cove sa cavite?
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 2:02 pm

resort... masarap dun...
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Number of posts : 74
Location : philippines
Registration date : 2009-01-11

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 8:32 pm

yup i would say "island cove is a nice spot"

wooooo the slides Razz
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 8:58 pm

ayun... oh island cove... Mad
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Number of posts : 287
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sun Feb 01, 2009 11:57 pm

asa walang funds Mad
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Male Number of posts : 164
Age : 33
Location : valley of suicides
Registration date : 2009-01-16

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Mon Feb 02, 2009 6:13 am

o hilata? flower
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Male Number of posts : 444
Age : 33
Location : helms deep
Registration date : 2009-01-12

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Tue Feb 03, 2009 7:12 pm

pbt site
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Male Number of posts : 408
Age : 32
Location : SSS village
Registration date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Wed Feb 04, 2009 12:45 pm

anu nang yari sa 6 digits mo?
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:09 am


The Medic

the winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a
medic in the German army had completely run out of plasma, bandages and
antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his
encampment was a bloodbath. Those who survived claimed to have heard,
above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone
cackling with almost girlish glee.

The medic had made his
rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many
times before, but never had he been this short on supplies. No matter.
He would do his duty. He had always prided himself on his

The bombardment moved to other ends of the
line, and most men dropped off to sleep in the dark, still hours of the
morning - New Year's Day, 1945. The men awoke at first light with
screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages
at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given
fresh blood transfusions, yet there had been no blood supplies
available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe,
with the maroon stain of blood.

The medic was found, sitting on
an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him,
and tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal that large
patches of his skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso
and his body was almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a
scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial. None of the men
treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January,

The Watcher

man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The
woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his
room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was
allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under
any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the
front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. The next
night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no
number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the
handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the
wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw
was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin
was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing
away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost
knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. This
disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked
back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked
through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He
couldn't make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving.
Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night
before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this
point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more
information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?"
The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell
you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room,
and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were
white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."

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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:10 am

Border Crossing

was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the
Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their
babysitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son
with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got
free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he
was missing. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to
the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did
as she was told. About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the
border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had
been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped
him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in
the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs
removed, and stuffed with bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry
him across the border as if he were asleep.



few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they
wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most
trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were
already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around
and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night,
the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch
it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents
didn't want children watching too much garbage). So, she called them
and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of
course, the parents said it was Okay, but the babysitter had one final
request... she asked if she could cover up the clown statue in the
corner of the bedroom with a blanket or cloth because it freaked her
out. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was
talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get
out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have a clown


Baby Doll

rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby
dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her
child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion"
advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to
stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent
would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to
get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed
to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the
wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than
one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child
abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of
infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the
mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid
of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped object wrapped in a
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:29 am

A Spartan Haunting

team was lowered into a dense jungle for a mission. They were to recon
the area for an assault that would take place later. The members of the
team were Aaron-014, Becca-048, David-124, and Flo-056. The team was
close to each other, but David and Flo shared a very close bond.

team separated to cover more ground. David searched the jungle, until
stumbling upon a large cave. Turning on his headlights, David went
inside to investigate. He keyed his com unit to tell the others about
his find, but the cave prevented the signal from connecting. A nervous
feeling in his stomach, David turned around to exit the cave....

But the exit wasn't there. It had vanished.

a deep sense of fear, David continued into the cave. He thought he saw
things moving in the shadows, but ignored them. Suddenly, an
earspliting scream echoed throughout the cave. It was David's friend,
Flo. David ran farther into the cave, turning around a corner,

He ran into Becca and Aaron, the other members of
Yellow Team. "David! Where have you been?" Becca asked. "It's been four
hours. Come on, the dropship's here to pick us up." David looked at the
two. "But we need to save Flo! Didn't you hear her scream?"

looked at David with an odd look. "Are you sure? We've been in this
cave for at least 2 hours, and we didn't hear anything." The team
proceded out of the cave. No sign of Flo. They sent her a com mesage.
No reply. After another search, they found her. Ripped apart and hung
from the top of the cave.

Four Weeks Later

was shook up. Badly. He hadn't been the same since the incident with
Flo. He had been silent and sweating for the past hour.

team was heading back to the site for the main assault. Aaron had found
the camp and mapped the route, so the team would be able to get there
quickly. Fortunatly, the team didn't have to go near the cave.

alright, David?" Aaron asked. David looked away. "Fine." he muttered.
Suddenly, the pelican rocked violently and tumbled. "Mayday! We're
hit!!!" The team was thrown out of the ship. David fell down into the

He hit the ground with a thud. After getting up and
shaking off the fall, he started to navigate to get back to the
crashsite. After an hour he decided he was lost. But then he heard a
noise. It was a girl's voice. "Oly Oly Oxen Free. Oly Oly Oxen Free."
After wandering around trying to find the source, he stumbled upon the
cave. The same opening to the cave that Flo had been hung from. And
just inside the opening was...............

"No." David whipered.

was Flo. She looked at him and smiled. David tried to run, but his legs
wouldn't respond. She walked up to him. "Hello, David." She said. "I
came back for you."

David found the will to move his legs. He
ran, but something pulled him back. "Oh, David, don't run. Don't you
want to be with me? I'm your friend and teammate, you know."

David looked at the ghost of Flo. "Please, no. Please! I'm not ready to die!!!!!"

"Oh, don't worry David. It'll be ok. After all, Spartans never die."

Flo moved closer to David.
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:30 am


day, two parents took their little five-year old daughter to the flea
market to go shopping. While they were there, they came across a little
stuffed animal shop, and it was filled with all sorts of animals, big
and small. The girl became to cry, and the parents decided to let her
pick a toy to bring home. As soon as they told her, the girl got up and
ran to one specific toy: A little grey teddy bear, with a single eyes,
and a few stitches in its stomach. The girl demanded the bear, which
she called Teddy for no apparent reason. The parents were a little
unsure, considering the condition of the bear, fearing it might break
and upset her, but their daughter was adamant, and they bought the bear.

that, the girl and Teddy were inseperable. The child would take Teddy
wherever she went. However, the father was a little disturbed, as the
girl became isolated, shunning her friends at Kindergarten, only
talking to the Teddy. At times, he would check on her in the night, to
find her wide awake in her bed, talking to it. She would say "I love
you so much, Teddy. I'll never leave you and you'll never leave me.
You'll protect me forever, won't you Teddy?"

However, one day
while they were in the park, the Father went to go get the girl - and
Teddy, as it apparently got hungry - ice cream. But when he came back,
the girl, and Teddy, were gone.

The Father panicked, and dialed
911, an Amber Alert was issued across the entire state, and police
desperately searched for the girl.

At night, the father would
lay awake, thinking about that Teddy. The damned Teddy. His daughter
put too much faith in the bear, and didn't scream for help. She put too
much faith in it, and now look at what happened!

Months passed,
until someone arrived at the parents' door. The parents answered it, to
find a police officer standing at the door. He told them that they had
found their daughter, and the kidnapper, in a motel room. The Father
asked to see his daughter, but the officer replied she was still at the
motel room.

The Father demanded they bring the daughter home, but the officer insisted "Sir, you're going to have to see this for yourself."

hour later, they arrived at the motel, to find a single door, room 13
smashed to splinters... from the inside. As they approached the door,
the Father got an unbearable sense of dread. He wanted to run, he
wanted to get away from the room, but his daughter was there, so he
went in.

He found a bloodbath. Nearly every inch of wall, floor
and furniture was smeared in dark blood, organs littered the room, the
TV had been smashed, flecks of red still on the remnants of the screen,
and laying on the bed was a burned, shriveled, bloody tattered corpse,
the apparent kidnapper. The daughter was there, smiling and giggling in
a corner. Teddy was nowhere to be found.

The Father rushed to
her, comforting her and asked her "What did you do to him?" The girl
replied, saying she didn't do anything with a silly grin on her face.
The Father's blood ran cold, and he asked who did do this is she didn't.

The grin still stretched on her face, the small child responded with three words...

"Teddy protected me"
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:33 am

original story by I DeaconBlues I of bungie.net

Knock Before You Enter

night Kyle Bailey’s parents offered Rachel a babysitting job as they
were invited to a High school reunion. They were to be home at around 2
A.M., or at least that’s what they told Rachel. Rachel was only
seventeen, and had only little experience in babysitting. But since
Kyle was eight years old and basically able to handle himself, she thought she’d be alright.
night seemed to be an easy one as Kyle kept to himself in his room
which allowed Rachel to watch T.V. and talk to her boyfriend on the
phone. At about twelve a clock Rachel went to check on Kyle and found
he was safely asleep in his bed. Relieved she returned to watching T.V.
in the living room. At around twelve thirty she heard a knock at the
front door. Odd, she thought. Someone knocking this late, but maybe
Kyle’s parents had returned early. In a sensible manner, she didn’t
immediately open the door.
“Who is it?” Rachel asked.
“Oh this is
just Mr. Hurston from down the street, your parents wanted me to come
by and check on you to make sure everything is alright, mind letting me
in young lady?”
Frightened, Rachel thought logically about the
situation. Her parents did not know where she was babysitting, and
Kyle’s parents would not send someone by who didn’t know her name.
“Go away right now or I’m calling the cops!” Rachel yelled shakily.
“Hey now, hey now, no need to do that, obviously you’re ok so I’ll just be on my way.” Replied the stranger.
Rachel went to make sure Kyle was alright. Everything seemed fine so
she anxiously wasted time wishing two o’ clock would come sooner. At
around twelve forty five, she heard knocking again.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bailey?” Rachel said in a frightened voice.
She heard nothing but loud knocking and scratching.
“If you don’t answer now I’m calling the cops, I’m not kidding!” Rachel yelled demandingly.
No answer. The knocking had become pounding, the scratching had become clawing.
Rachel maneuvered herself around in attempt to see the doorway through
the window, but she couldn’t get and angle. Her heart beating she
screamed one more time,
“Who are you? What are you trying to do? Leave me alone I’m calling the cops right now!”
no answer, just the constant pounding of the door. She wondered how
long it would be before the stranger broke down the door, or tries a
window. She immediately dialed 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“There is someone trying to break in the house I’m babysitting at! Please help, I’m only seventeen! Please hurry!”
“Where is the house?”
“Um, um 126 Angel Bend, Please come he’s going to get through!”
“We’re on our way.”
Rachel ran and hid under the bed in the master bedroom. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! She could her pounding from all the in there. She began crying uncontrollably, minutes seemed like hours.
Miraculously the pounding and clawing finally stopped. Rachel thought
the police had finally come but she wasn’t taking any chances. She
waited there until she heard voices,
“Rachel, are you there?”
was Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, she ran out only to find dismal looks upon
their faces. They comforted her but she could tell something was not
right. She ran to the doorway only to see Kyle. He had been
stabbed in the stomach, and his knuckles were skinless. His fingernails
were peeled off and his vocal cord had been severed.
The door was
covered in blood. She realized what had happened. Rachel now lives at
the St. James Insane Asylum and always hears pounding and clawing even
inside the padded walls.
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:36 am

The Cemetery Mimic
a defiled cemetery in the outskirts of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, the city
I was born in. People who can't afford to pay funerary services often
bury their loved ones here. In Mexico, there's no such thing as medical
aid for low income workers. People that come from out of town are not
used to the ever changing weather and as consequence, many children die
in the winter and end up buried in the old, defiled cemetery.

I was about ten years old, four older friends and I decided to check it
out. We walked for hours and when we finally arrived, it was almost
dark. We started walking around and nothing seemed out of place. The
air was getting very heavy and we heard a strange noise from an old,
rotted tree. As we got near it, the tree started shaking. We all got
really scared and ran. Later on, we found out that it was one of our
friends playing a prank on us.

We were laughing when
suddenly the old grave keeper showed up. He said "Boys, I know you are
all just here to have fun and fool around, but please understand that
horrible things happen here! I live in that house over there (about 100
feet from the cemetery), and every night that those high school punks
come and drink and make their mess, weird things begin to happen. Last
time there were loud voices and someone was knocking on my door at 2:00
am. I thought it was those punks, but no one was there. I am very tired
and I really would like to sleep tonight, so if you have no business
here, please leave." We felt bad for the poor old guy and left.

never returned to that place until I was seventeen. I was with my high
school punk friends in a truck, and we were looking for the old
cemetery. After ten years, the place had really changed and we were
having trouble finding the cemetery. The trail was wet and muddy and
there were so many of us that the truck got stuck in the mud. When we
got out of the truck, we soon found out that we were inside the

My friend left the truck in neutral so we
could push it, when suddenly the truck began moving by itself. After we
saw that, we were so scared that we just got in the truck and drove
off. When we finally decided to stop, we noticed that the truck was
marked with tiny foot and hand prints all over. Then the grave keeper
showed up and said "I remember you, you don't understand what is going
on, do you?" The spirits will chase you for a long time."

really didn't pay much attention to what he said until I later learned
that there hadn't been any grave keeper there for years. I got really
freaked out when my friends started telling me that I looked different.
The said they would run into me and I would have a disturbing, "evil"
look in my eyes. The weird part is that I was never even at the place
and time they would tell me they saw me.

One of my
friends said he chased me all the way into a dead-end alley, and that I
would just disappear without a trace. Even my girlfriend said she would
sometimes see me near her house, dressed in black, with a disturbing
glare, when I was actually out somewhere drinking, with someone else.

sister says that sometimes she hears me when I get home, and watches me
open the door and go into the living room with the light turned off.
She would see me lay down on the sofa from across the hall, and
suddenly I would begin ripping my clothes off like some wild animal.
When she turns the light on, there's no one there. Hours later, I would
arrive home, leave my keys on the table and go to my room. All of this
happens as if someone, or something was imitating me -- like a mimic.
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:41 am

The Intruder

friend's sister frequently babysat. One night, she was watching three
kids, whose parents were going to be out until about 2:00am. She fed
the kids and then they watched some movies. Around 8:00pm, she put the
two-year-old to bed. At 8:30, she put the four-year-old to bed and at
9:00, the eight-year old.

She was still hungry so she
went back downstairs to make herself a sandwich. When she was almost
done, she heard the eight-year-old crying and calling her name. She
went upstairs to see what was wrong. When she got up there, the child
said she was cold, so the babysitter looked around for another blanket.

she was doing that, she noticed that the window was open. She thought
she had closed all of them but didn't think anything else of it. She
closed the window, gave the little girl another blanket, and checked
the other windows in the other two children's rooms to make sure they
were secure, and then went back downstairs.

When she
went back to the kitchen, she noticed that her sandwich was gone. She
just brushed it off and blamed it on the dog. She made herself another
sandwich. Again, she heard crying, but this time it was the
four-year-old. She went to his room, and he too said he was cold. She
noticed the window was open again. She was worried this time because
she knew she had locked it. She didn't want to scare the child so she
just shut and locked it.

She returned downstairs and
turned on the alarm system. When she went back to the kitchen, she
discovered that her second sandwich was gone. She was really worried so
she decided to call the cops. When she told them that her sandwiches
were disappearing, they thought she was crazy. She then told them about
the windows opening repeatedly and they said it was probably just the
kids doing it. After she hung up, she made herself a third sandwich.

soon heard the two-year-old crying and went up to see what was wrong.
Her window was also open. At this point, she was very frightened, so
she gathered all of the kids, the cordless phone, and took them into a
pantry closet in the kitchen. She called the police again, saying that
she was really scared because someone keeps opening the windows and
stealing her sandwiches -- and it's not the kids. They told her not to
be worried, that they would be over in a few minutes to check it out.

hung up the phone and held onto the kids tightly. A few minutes later,
she heard a noise in the kitchen, and saw the knob turning on the
pantry door. She was about ready to scream when a cop opened the door.
She asked why they came so fast. He had a worried look on his face and
told them to get out of the house. He then told her that on the phone,
he heard a double click.

some will have trouble understanding this story,

guy who was stealing sandwiches and opening windows was listening on
another phone, and when the aunt or whatever hung up, so did the
murderer, creating two click sounds that are made to signal that the
other person has hung up, so, the cops knew someone else was in the house.

Last edited by Adjust on Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:46 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : explanation)
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:47 am

is a certain road near the Everglades in Florida, which, if you drive
down it alone in the rain, day or night, you will suddenly have a very
real feeling of being completely lost. Your radio will turn to static,
your CDs will skip, and your tapes will play slower than normal. If you
try to find a map in your car, it will have mysteriously vanished. If
you continue forward down the road for more than a minute, you will
find that you can’t turn around, and everything behind you is pitch
dark. There are no other roads and no other cars. Continuing down the
road, you will come upon a fork with no signposts. In the middle of the
fork, there will be a man, covered head to foot in various pieces of
clothing. The only skin visible will be around his eyes, which will be
bright green. You must get out of your car, but do not turn it off or
close the door after you. You must approach the man, but stop at least
three feet away. You must stand there silently, waiting for him to
speak first. If you break the silence first, you will find yourself
back on a main road, but you will die within 24 hours. If he speaks
first, he will ask you what you require. Tell him that you need to know
which road will take you to your destination. He will then ask you what
you will offer him in exchange for his assistance.

If you offer
him a ride, he and your car will disappear, and you will become the new
guardian of the crossroad. If you offer him an umbrella, he will take
it and stab you through the chest. If you offer him your love, he will
take your heart still beating from your chest and eat it, condemning
you to walk the earth without a heart, insane from the pain and loss.
You must offer him your loyalty and kneel before him. If you do this,
he will close his eyes and bow in return, extending a hand to whichever
path will lead you back to safety. If you try to run from him, you will
be dead before you reach your car, and your body will be found back in
your car in some random location.
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PostSubject: Re: Ghost Stories...   Sat Feb 07, 2009 9:51 am

Yellow eyes by Dunceegg

the year 1931 during the great depression there was a family who have
been farmers their whole lives. But there was one child, the youngest
the smallest the one who got the least food, had always had strange
unexplainable events happening to her. The parents had no idea why the
doctor said it was for attention but who knew? The kids at school made
fun of her all the time and her sibling made fun of her. “Why me?” she
would constantly ask herself. Though she was young she knew something
was wrong. One night when she had nothing to eat and a day of agony and
tormenting from the neighborhood kids she had decided to try and get
some sleep. After and hour of sleep she was woken up by a disturbing
voice in the distance. She thought “Oh please tell me I’m in a dream oh
lord please tell me.” After what seemed like an eternity of grueling
pain and agony the sound seemed even closer. She could have gone to her
parents but to be shunned, what’s the point? Her siblings? No. confront
the treacherous voice, at such a young age? There was no solution, but
to wait it out. But how long would this last? She heard a banging on
the window. She gazed over to the window and saw two glowing yellow
eyes just looking in not staring just a bleak empty stare. Nothing but
eyes. The girl ran to her parents, she had no choice but to go to them.
She jumped on the bed and the parents awoke. The father furious yelled
“Get out your only a burden and money consuming” Disowned from the
family and horrified she ran out of the house and went write to her
window. To search for the fiend who had ripped this family apart but
nothing was there…why? Why would this creature terrorize her? She
decided to run away into town. As the sun rose she looked back to see
what she had left and noticed a figure that had the shape of a human
and two glaring yellow eyes. She tripped and had cuts on her arms and
legs and was paralyzed in fear. The humanly figure moved closer but the
girl was able to scramble to her feet and made it to town. She knew no
one could take her in because the country was in great poverty so she
stayed on the streets until one day. One day when an elderly lady
invited her to house. The girl happily agreed. They laughed sewed and
danced a little. After about two weeks of happiness the girl was
experiencing strange events. The girl started hearing strange voices
and chills. She couldn’t go through this again she wouldn’t. She told
the old lady about this and she replied with a simple short answer
“He’s back”. “Who is it who tell me who I need to know.” said the girl.
The woman searched her book shelves and took out an old book. The young
girl had tried to make out the title of it but to no avail. After a few
moments of reading the old woman sighed heavily and explained all of
it. She said that it’s the crazed killer who wanders the plains and
picks random victims and doesn’t give up until he has a bloody gruesome
murder. But he doesn’t just come in and slaughter you. He calls out for
you while coming closer and closer and then he just looks doesn’t look
at whoever is in the room he just looks. Then the next day he gives a
warning then comes in at night and cuts your torso open and slowly
takes out your lungs and hangs them in his layer. Nobody knows why
either some say he’s just deranged others say he’s taking years of
torment out on other people. The girl told the old lady of her
experiences and how she was disowned and the woman is speechless and
quickly makes the girl leave. Alone that night she knew it was her time
but she wasn’t going to let anyone else take her life, she would do it.
She committed suicide that night in the town plaza. Now in the year
2008 when I turn in my bed I can feel those empty eyes looking in and
Mary standing there. Maybe one day I too can join them and there empty
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