Scary Or Not? You Be The Judge...

[- diamond princess -]

I thought we might need something new for a change. Well check out this story and tell me if it scares you, gives you goosebumps or not scary at all.

 

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Bed Time By Robert Brewer

 

"I mean it, Desmond! Turn off the video game, brush your teeth, and get into bed. I'll be up in a minute," his Mother yells up the stairs in a weary frustrated tone.

 

"OK, Mommy," he shouts down the stairs, his tone sounds more like how his Dad used to talk to his Mom after she would nag him to mow the lawn.

 

 

With the speed and agility only six year old fingers posses, he presses the pause button on the playstation and then mutes the TV with the remote control. He scurries down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, grabbing the tube of tooth paste as soon as his feet hit the tile. In one ungracious move the little boy dabs some paste on his teeth, just in case his Mom checks his breath, and another smidgen on his Incredible Hulk pajamas just for authenticity. Before he runs back to the den he turns on the cold tap. With the sound of running water his Mom should be content for another couple of minutes. Just enough time to get to the next level of Tomb Raider.

 

 

His ears perk up as he hears a loud creaking floorboard. She must be by the fridge Desmond thinks to himself as he turns the TV off and bolts for his room. The rapid squeaking indicates she's on the stairs. He dives across his room onto his enormous bed. His face cringes as he lands on a Star Wars action figure. As soon as the covers are pulled up he looks toward the door to see the slouching silhouette of his Mother.

 

"What am I going to do with you?" She laughs as she walks to the bed.

 

"Give me a million dollars," the short spiky haired kid replies.

 

"Why? So you can go to the dentist since you never brush your teeth."

 

"I do to."

 

"No you don't. I'm a Mom. I know everything," she says as she pounces on him and starts to tickle his ribcage.

 

In between uncontrollable laughter he mutters, "Stop... Stop... I'll get you."

 

 

After a few moments they settle down and Ms. Matthews pulls off Desmond's Hulk shirt that now smells like winter fresh mint. She pats his soft spiky hair in a concealing fashion while she actually checks to see if he has a fever. Finally a big kiss is planted on his forehead.

 

"O.K.. Chief. Tonight I want you to stay in your bed the whole night. Mommy's very tired. We had a lot of people in the restaurant and I need some sleep. You squirm about to much for me to get a good sound sleep," the calming voice gets smoother the closer she gets to the door.

 

"But I get scared and stuff."

 

" I know, Honey. But just do what I told you, pull your covers up real tight and think about happy things."

 

"I guess, But can you put the night light on?"

 

"Just for a few more weeks. These are for little kids and you're my little man now," she says as she flips a switch on a plastic purple dinosaur that's plugged into the wall next to the closet.

 

"Goodnight"

 

"Goodnight Mom."

 

The door closes.

 

Desmond rolls onto his left side then to his right. Trying not to think of scary things, but he just doesn't like this new house. It smells weird and makes strange noises at night. He had tried running around the backyard after dinner, but he's still not tired. Every so often a comforting glance at the purple hue cast by the Barney night light sets everything right. The bad thing is, the kids at this new school make jokes about Barney and kids that like the show. If he ever brings a friend home he'll have to hide it somewhere. Why don't they make cooler night lights? Like the mean T-Rex from Jurassic Park. Wait. No, that's a scary thought. How about a World Wrestling Federation Champion doll that goes on the wall and lights up when dangers around? Or nothing guides you with safety illumination like a giant Tiger Wood's head. Desmond starts to giggle.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, after his thoughts get stranger and stranger, his eyelids are to heavy to keep open. He turns to his side instinctively just at the right time before he can drift off into a deep slumber. A slow tapping on the wall next to his desk is ignored for the most part. Lose papers of drawings and school work fall from the desk. The crinkling sound reminds the boy of dry leaves. He rolls to his other side. Finally the distinct sound of paper being ripped causes his eyes to open. It's always hard to get orientation of sound in dark rooms, but it might be his new Pokemon poster over his toy chest. He thinks of running to the door, but his muscles feel like lead weights. Desmond sits as still as he can trying to hear something, anything, but it is dead quite, except for the thumping heart in his chest.

 

 

It's quite for a long time. His nerves start to settle and his muscles begin to relax. Maybe he is becoming a man now. He doesn't need to run to Mommy. The last house was scary, but this new one doesn't seem as bad. Maybe Dad will come visit if he knows he has a brave son. Even if he has a new girlfriend and new kids. Who knows, they might be afraid of the dark too.

 

 

Desmond lets out a big sigh. Then screams. He jerks upright as something touched his face. Something soft and wet definitely brushed against his lip. It might have been trying to cover his mouth. Strangle him. He frantically runs his hands over his face and hair. A few seconds later, when he's not as panicked, logic starts to set in. Maybe it was a bug. Then he thinks maybe it could have been some toothpaste on his mouth from before. Although his Mom would have probably said something.

 

 

An object is thrown into the wall just above the bed. The thud echoes throughout the room. A cold action figure rolls next to the boy. It feels like ice to the touch. His whole body is freezing. Goose bumps cover his arms and little chest. He wishes he had his shirt that he was wearing earlier. How could a toy just fly into the wall? It can't. There's no explanation.

 

"MOM! MOM!" Desmond erupts.

 

 

His top blanket is yanked hard from his hands. He scoots backward to the part of the bed that rests in the corner of two walls. From the other side of the room comes a soft but familiar sound. The sound of laughter. The laughter of someone who just stopped crying.

 

"Mom! Get in here, Now! Mom!"

 

 

The door bursts open casting bright hallway light into every crevice of the room. His eyes dart to the corner by his desk. There is nothing there. A few papers are on the floor, but that's it. He then scans his bed and the closest wall. All he can find is the Storm Trooper that he jumped on before. Feeling the tension, he looks up at his mom. Her hair is sticking up all over the place and she is just wearing one big T-shirt. Her glasses are off and the tip of her nose is scrunched up. That happens when she's upset.

 

"Desmond. You were screaming bloody murder. Don't do that. You scare Mommy when you do that."'

 

"There's scary stuff in my room," Desmond tries to sound like a lawyer pleading his case.

 

"Desmond," his Mom says defeated before she puts on a reassuring front," You're fine. There's nothing scary in here. There's no monsters. It's just a new house. You have to get used to the noises."

 

"Yeah, yeah. I understand that, but something pulled my blanket off."

 

"You probably kicked it off. You're sweating like crazy. I'll turn down the heat."

 

With blinding speed his arm shoots straight out and points to the far wall, almost at the same time he sees it.

 

"Look. Look. My Pokemon poster is ripped."

 

"Damn it, Desmond," his Mom quips as she puts her hands on her hips, " You know I'm not as rich as some of the other Moms. In fact I have to work very hard to get you nice things. So can you please try to take care of them."

 

"Yeah Mom. I'm sorry," he says knowing better than to press the point that something else ripped the poster.

 

"Please go to sleep."

 

"O.K. Mom"

 

The door shuts. Darkness returns.

 

 

The darkness seems deep and rich this time. Thicker than before. Why did his Mom have to say "Monsters"? Now Desmond's mind creates all kinds of ghouls and zombies to keep him from sleeping. He turns on his side once more and stares into the safety of the night light. He tries to think of Oscar. It was a pet angel fish that he had when they lived with his Dad. Desmond can't exactly picture the colors of the fish. He just has a loose recollection of it's image. It makes the kid sad to think that he can't even remember what his friend looked like.

 

 

His stomach wrenches tight as something passes in front of the night light. Temporarily blocking out the light. The closet doors rattle. The sounds of wild movement comes from behind the wooden doors. It sounds like large animals eating. His head whips to other side of the room as he hears his poster being ripped to shreds. He squints trying to force his eyes to dilate, but all he sees is darkness. His focus is forced to return to the closet as the unmistakable sound of the doors sliding open cuts through the silence. The animals that were inside are now out. They move around in a hurried fashion, bumping into his bed as they crawl under it. Suddenly all the noise and frantic commotion stops.

 

 

Desmond lays still, breathing heavily. His bottom lip starts to quiver as if he's going to cry. In shear determination he pulls himself together as does the only thing he can, he pulls the sheets up tight and tries to think of happy times. His thoughts go back a year. He had to teach his Dad how to swim. All the other kids were being taught by their parents and here was, Desmond, showing a two hundred pound guy, wearing water wings, how to doggy paddle. He lays in the darkness and smiles, for a moment forgetting about the heavy feeling of malevolence all around him.

 

 

The blankets are again torn from his hands. Desmond screams. Something cold drops from the ceiling onto his chest. Tiny legs move across his body until it disappears into the darkness. The boy gags a few times almost throwing up. It is that exact moment that he realizes his Mom doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. Blankets won't help. Good thoughts mean nothing. Only light seems to keep the creatures at bay. He looks toward the glowing Barney just in time to see it smashed by a little hairy hand. Darkness now commands the room.

 

 

The light switch may be his only chance to get out of this nightmare. But that would mean crossing the length of the room. He slowly sits up and lets his feet dangle over the bed. He wants to touch the floor, but the fear of the monsters under his bed grabbing him is to great. He starts to shiver uncontrollably. Instantly his feet are back on the bed, out of danger. A new plan is needed.

 

"Go.... to.... sleep," a slow whispering voice, that sounds like his Mother's voice from before, fills the room. Only now her voice is twisted and warped like it's being played back on a broken tape player. It sounds... soulless.

 

 

Desmond stands on his bed against the back wall more out of terror than defiance. The unnatural voice continues, "Damn it, Desmond...... Bloody... murder."

 

 

The boy takes in three deep breaths then runs to edge of his bed and leaps. He imagined he would jump all the way to the light switch, but he only gets a few feet from his bed. His feet find that the floor is covered in piles of dying worms. He slips and falls on his back. It's the sickest feeling he's ever had. He tries to get up but the slimy mashed up worms won't let him get his balance. Again and again he slips to the floor. A creature darts out from under the bed and bites down on Desmond's calf. Hundreds of pointed teeth pierce his flesh.

 

"MOM! MOM! HELP!" Desmond bellows in agony. Blood gushes from his leg. He doesn't know where the creature has gone. The only sound being made is the worms slithering over one another. The blood running down his leg seems warm at first and then becomes so cold that it burns his skin.

 

"Stop... Stop... I'll get... you," the wicked voice continues, this time mimicking what the young boy had said earlier.

 

 

The bedroom door flies open and the light switch is flicked on. Bright white light cascades down from the overhead lamp. The desk falls over and the closet door is slammed shut. He sees his Mom look horrified and she starts to cry.

 

"What happened, baby? What did you do?" his Mom weeps as she kneels on the floor cradling her son. They rock back and fourth as she looks at his bloody leg.

 

"It's O.K.. It's O.K.. You'll be O.K. Desmond," she comforts.

 

"I know Mom," he replies feeling the safety of his Mom's hugs and the glorious bright light.

 

 

A tiny movement catches his eye as he looks over his Mom's shoulder. The door to his room isn't fully open. Between the wall and the door is a wedge of a shadow. He sees the reflective eyes of one of the little creatures. The beast is about two feet high, savage, and covered in long brown hair that looks soaking wet. It's face looks ferocious, but soft and leathery like a gorilla's. It flashes a razor blade smile, then leaps into the light. It screams in the purest pain they have ever heard. The monster just reaches the light switch and with a snap everything is dark. The bedroom door is slammed shut with authority.

 

 

The creatures from under the bed rush out and tackle the Mom with rancor. Desmond hears her night gown being torn away as she is held down. She shrieks for help, but their is no one else to save them. Desmond's cheek is cut as something runs by. Then his back is ripped open from a pair of quick moving claws. Through the pain a new plan is formed. If he could jump to the light switch he could turn it on and hold it to make sure it stays on. Then his Mother could run into the hallway and do the same with the switch out there. They could alternate like this all the way throughout the house until they can make a run for it outside. The boy stands up as cold blobs of gelatin start to fall from the ceiling like rain. He only has one chance. Gathering all his speed, courage and the last of his strength, he faces the direction of the switch and leaps into the darkness.

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By the way, if you got any good ones, write it down.

[MiSs_SkyLine_GTR]

Copy paste :rolleyes: :rolleyes: :rolleyes:

[Dhag_Dheer]

Cant comment on it..cuz its too long to keep me interested.....Next time keep it short..eh

[- diamond princess -]

First of all, I never wrote this story...Secondly, did I say I did? I just wanted ppl to share scary stories all together. So roll your eyes as much as you want.

 

And D_D, sorry, I couldn't find a good short story.

 

.:peace n luv:.

[- diamond princess -]

Heres Another One:

 

Undying Love By Darren Franz

 

"I love you," Jeff said. He was rocking from side to side like the pendulum of a clock. His fingers plucked restlessly at the creases in his slacks.

 

Angela lay there, not answering him.

 

"I do, you know," Jeff continued. "Our love will never die."

 

Angela remained silent.

 

He kissed the ridge of her forehead, then backed away suddenly as if anticipating retaliation.

 

Angela could be so cold sometimes.

 

Outside, dead leaves were falling in vapid patterns. Jeff had been staring out the window at the trees for almost an hour.

 

"I get the feeling you don’t believe me," he whispered. "How could I not love you? You’re so... beautiful."

 

Jeff suddenly burst into tears.

 

She was wearing her olive-colored skirt; the one with all the pleats.

 

Weeping copiously, Jeff laid down next to Angela, hoping she wouldn’t get angry. When she didn’t object, he put his arm around her. Her hair tickled his cheek.

 

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked in a timid voice.

 

No answer.

 

Prisms of multi-colored light rippled across her face. Royal blue. Scarlet red. Yellow. Lime green.

 

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Jeff grew fascinated by the weaving colors. The sun was gleaming through an ornament of stained glass hung in the window. It swayed gently in the breeze. The kaleidoscopic patterns reminded him of the leaves. Lifeless and yet filled with vibrant color.

 

He was getting an erection.

 

"C’mon, Ange-a-ma-lange."

 

"Ange-a-ma-lange" never failed to elicit a smile.

 

She wasn’t smiling now.

 

His hand wandered across the folds of her skirt.

 

"I’m sorry," Jeff said. His fingers lingered briefly at the hem before disappearing underneath.

 

Angela made no move to stop him.

 

The colors danced.

 

Breathing heavily, Jeff slid his hand up the uniform smoothness of her leg. Her thighs were already dripping wet.

 

His fingers worked busily.

 

"I’m sorry," he repeated, over and over again like a mantra. His hips thrust forward more forcibly with each humble supplication.

 

Burying his hand between her blood-soaked legs, Jeff came as the colors undulated across their rigid bodies.

 

Completely spent, he collapsed on top of Angela’s mutilated corpse.

 

"Told you..." he panted into the ragged hole where her ear had once been. "Our love will never die."

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.:peace n luv:.

[MaLikah]

Ok..two words

 

*** NO COMMENT***

[Business_Man]

Why be harsh?....Just read the post and then judge on the quality of the stories but not by the content/quantity fo the post!. If it is too long then why comment, just go!. To miss Nissan, Is that what you used to do when you sat your English Literature test in senior?, Damn!

 

Peace.

 

P.S I almost forgot...Nice post but nothing is as scary as the Texas Chainsaw Massacre! :eek: