Scary/creepy stories thread

I still don't buy that Angry Lawyer wouldn't take a picture of the room.
 
AKIRA said:
stories where people see things like figures or actual people just staring at them are just plain ****ing scary. I can't imagine what i'd do in that situation like wtf.
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show it the finger.
 
Sulkdodds said:
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More like Angry Liar.

dfc05 said:
I just remembered, one time I was up late at night at home, sitting by the window near the front door. Not too long ago, I had gotten one of those "Forward this to all your friends" emails about safety, and one of the points was about creepy guys who go around to houses at night playing tape recorded sounds of crying babies at the front door to lure women out. As you've probably guessed, I heard what sounded like crying outside my door. It totally creeped me out.
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That story has always creeped me out, because the way it was told and presented always seemed genuinely real.

It was like a warning about a man who had been doing that in the town of such n such and police were warning citizens to call if they heard the crying.

AKIRA said:
stories where people see things like figures or actual people just staring at them are just plain ****ing scary. I can't imagine what i'd do in that situation like wtf.
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Don't you think the wife would have woken her husband up? "Oh, there might be someone in our bathroom. I'll just go to sleep."

:p
 
zombieturtle01 said:
That story has always creeped me out, because the way it was told and presented always seemed genuinely real.

It was like a warning about a man who had been doing that in the town of such n such and police were warning citizens to call if they heard the crying.
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Do you have any idea how many abandoned doorstep babies succumbed to the elements during those times!?
 
Ok... ok. **** this thread.

I was up late last night reading scary stories on the internet trying to find something good to post here, but everything was cliche or badly typed or had Bruce Willis in it. So I says **** it and I goes ta bed.

Anyway, I'm about to get in the shower today and my mom tells me she's leaving soon. As I'm in the shower, I'm thinking maybe I could write my own story, I could think of something scary. Maybe make it personal like AL's story, something like I'm in the shower for a while then I hear a knock on the door. I assume it's my mom telling me she's leaving so I ask what? I hear no answer, then continue with my showering. Later when my mom comes home I ask her why she didn't say anything when she knocked on the door. Then she would say she left as soon as I turned the water on. Then who was door? dun dun dun, you know, general horror stuff.

So I'm in the shower and I'm thinking about all of this, among other scary stuff (what if there's someone standing outside the curtain? all I have to defend myself is a toothbrush and my large penis) then my mom comes up and knocks on the door. I'll admit, I jumped pretty good but seeing as how my mom was outside the bathroom I managed to play it off. I nonchalantly answered her and she told me she was leaving. I say bye and get back to washing. After ten minutes or so I'm getting all rinsed off and ready to get out...


when I hear a knock on the bathroom door.






This time I don't say anything, I just sit scared... I try not to make any noise, though obviously I'm in there cuz the shower is going. I listen over the water but don't hear anything, no footsteps, no nothing. I sit in that shower til the water is ice cold. Finally I turn it off and dry myself and open the bathroom door.

nothing.

And now I'm telling you all how you completely ruined my morning. Thanks.
 
About a decade ago I started noticing strange things happening in my office which my co workers seemed completely oblivious to. My office walls are a eye piercing white when all of the spotlights are switched on. The walls hide nothing, hand prints, tack holes, last weeks sneeze are all visible to the naked eye. Sometimes I would spend hours staring at the walls in a attempt to waste time, which never worked btw. But on the bright side I could remember every blemish and hole in the wall like I was reading a map.

For a few days I noticed holes appearing in the wall, like someone had nailed a picture onto the wall or fired a air rifle. I noted that the new holes appeared in my vicinity and not around other work colleagues desks. I asked around the office to see if I could find an explanation but found nothing. I was starting to think my boss's were spying on me so I got a small nail and started prodding around in these holes. They seemed very deep, at one point I lost nail.

I got another nail from my desk draw and proceeded to prod. This time as I prodded I noticed something white flashing in the hole. Like a torch but I knew this would not be the case as the gap between the outside wall and inside wall is only about 10cm wide. I took the nail out and pressed my face right against the wall so I could get a closer look with my eye. I saw another white flash and woke up in a corn field.

I don't know how long I was lying there but I was damp and cold and needed to find shelter ASAP as it was dark. In the distance I saw what I can only describe as a porcelain house. It looked like your average farm house except it was made out of a porcelain like material.

Anyway I got to the front door, hoping someone was in and knocked. An elderly gentleman answered and I asked him if I could use his phone. He looked at me strangely and called his wife. As I stood there shivering and making a phone gesture with my hand the couple spoke. They didn't speak in English, French, German etc. This language I did not recognise at all. It was as if I'd landed on another planet.

The couple invited me into there home and pointed to a internal door, which I assume is a bedroom or rest room. I walk towards the door and open it. To my complete shock and surprise I walk into my office, I look behind me and see the restroom.
 
There's a story of a woman driving late one night to her destination, alone. As she's passing through a rural country side, where no houses, lights, or any signs of civilization are visible (with the exception of the road and road signs), something unusual happens. A body is lying in the middle of the road, face down, with its arms to it's side. Fortunately, she was driving slow enough to prevent the car from running over the body and she slows the vehicle to a stop about 20 feet infront of the body. She opens the car door with her focus fixed on the body and quickly moves in to investigate the possibly injured or dead individual in hopes to possibly aid the individual.

She kneels next to the body checking for blood first, and says with concern, "Are you okay?". No response is given, so she grabbed the shoulder of the victim and turned him or her around. What she finds is rather shocking.

It wasn't a man or woman, but a mannequin dressed in rugged clothing and nothing more. She jumped back at the surprise and quietly whispered to herself, "why would someone put a mannequin in the road?".

As soon as she said it to herself, she realized why. Somone wanted her to stop and get out of her car. She froze with fear and knew that someone was watching her, if not already approaching her.

She then surprisingly found herself back inside her car, hands gripping the steering wheel with the mannequin still infront of the car, facing upwards from when she turned it. She punched the gas and sped out of the terrifying scene checking the rear seats of the car to make sure she was alone. Luckily, no one was there.
 
WTF, are all your stories rated PG 13 or something, nothing actually happens, no one dies or is mutilated or anything. (well except that dog in the op's story)
 
Long ago, a young man met and fell in love with a beautiful young woman. She was always dressed exquisitely and she always wore a black ribbon around her neck. Soon the man and the woman were married and moved into a little cottage by the sea. They started out very happily, but soon the young man became more and more curious as to why his wife wore a ribbon around her neck all the time. One day he decided to ask her. The only answer he received was that he would be sorry if she took it off, so she would not take it off. The young man was not happy with his wife's answer.Time passed and eventually all he could think about was that black ribbon. One day, he awoke before his wife, went into her sewing box and got a pair of scissors, and cut off the ribbon that was around her neck. His wife woke up with a start. Her head fell off and rolled onto the floor while the woman screamed "I told you you'd be sorry!".
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This story always creeped me out when I was younger. Seems tame now. But the pictures that accompanied it were really horrific. All old fashioned Victorian-style inks. I still have that ghost book somewhere around the house. May dig it out.
 
Here's one I heard from one of my TA's. It's not scary, more like creepy/disgusting, and I'm pretty sure it's true.

She and her boyfriend were going out to a national park. They hadn't made motel reservations beforehand and couldn't get a decent one near the park, so they had to drive out to a more rural area and get a room at a dingy old motel. The lady at the desk was really rude to them. They get to their room and notice that it smells really bad. After a day or so, they can't stand it anymore, so they go to the desk lady and ask to change rooms, but she's still really rude. Then they mention what room number they had and she's like, "Oh! You shouldn't have gotten that room" and turns super nice and apologetic.

They never found out what happened in that room.
 
Ok. There's not really an end to it and its terribly cliche but here goes. True though...

In our town we have a "Ghost" that supposedly roams an area called Pactolus. He's dubbed the name Pactolus Light. Me and a group of friends decided to see this up close. We pulled up to the gravel road some time around 10pm(The ghost is supposed to flash various lights, blue means sad, yellow means happy, red means angry). We waited for a mere 15 mins when a small light far away started to appear. As it got closer it turned from orange, to red. Everyone flipped a s**t. As soon as we started to haul ass, the back of the car started shaking violently. As if somebody was jumping on it up and down. As a fact all of our friends have been there at different times and have gotten various experiences. One of the scariest events of my life.
 
another one from that other forum i go to:

Not at all a CAR story...but ok.

So I was like 10 years old, and dad and I were going to a funeral in Washington, Arkansas. This was a few hours from the house, and we decided to spend the night in this bed and breakfast place. Turns out the place was a confederate or union (hell I forget) prison back during the Civil War. Oh this is going to be a fun night.

So we're talking to the owners over dinner. The large dining room area had plexiglass framed to the wall where you could still see the grafitti that was carved into the walls and beams. Sort of cool. Until you look out side at the hanging tree and see the pictures on the walls of people that were hanging from them. I fecking swear!

So the owner was talking about how they'd hear bumps or groans in the middle of the night. Ok, no big deal there. Fans that would come on and off for no apparant reason. Ok. Stuff like that. Generally creeped out at this point, but nothing too bad really.

Bed time comes around, and I'm more tired than anything else. I start walking up the stairs alone to I guess go put something in the upstairs bedroom and as I step I hear something. I've kind of blocked it but I think it was "no" or "don't" coming from that room we were having dinner in. Ok. Officially creeped out at this point. Run down the stairs like nothing happened and end the night with walking up the stairs with dad. I fall asleep. Too tired to fight it.

It's late. Two or three AM. I wake up to hear something gasping or almost like hissing outside the window. We were on the second story and there weren't any trees so I dunno what it could be. Sounded like whatever said "no" or "don't" distinctly though. That's creepy enough, but what I never understood is that I looked down at the floor vent and it was blowing what looked to be gray or green smoke from the floor.

I was still at the age that covers could protect you from anything and made sure it made a skin tight seal over my face. I woke up and was never happier to leave anything in my life.
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I've had my share of scary experiences.

One being sleep paralysis. some say thats what occurs when you're being abducted by aliens but I don't think its that simple. I was about 8 years old and I went to bed like I normally do but I couldn't fall asleep. Then slowly and more loudly I heard yelling. I tried to get up but when I turned my head to look at the door all I saw was the door handle spinning wildly. And then I couldn't turn my head back. then the yelling was like it was right in my ear and what felt like a massive 10 ton block crushing my body giving me a tough time breathing and concentrating.

It took me about 3-4 hours to snap out of it but it was very tramatic and I ran out of the room to my parents. Same thing happened another night but since i was used to it the 2nd time wasn't as bad or it didn't last as long. who knows maybe I got bit by a spider and was hallucinating or something. but sleep paralysis is horrifying to say the least

Another scary moment I has was just recently a few years ago, I was alone in the house and i was reading a magazine when I heard a crash outside my door. I put the magazine down walked to the hallway to find Van Gogh's Sunflower painting to be on the floor. odd as it is nothing has ever fallen off the wall like that before. I hang the painting back up then I go back to my magazine and notice the pages were turned and then I heard a small creaking of the door and my heart stopped. everything was back to normal after that except me. i couldn't sleep at all that night.

And another time at work i was putting stuff away near a locked door and no one else was around and i felt a small tug on my clothing. scary shit but i think someone died near our building.
 
Seconded, sleep paralysis is one of the scariest things that can possibly happen to you. Especially since I had no ****ing idea what it was when it first happened, and I automatically assumed I'd be getting anally probed by extra terrestial beings in a matter of moments.

However, I do happen to have slightly unnerving tale that to this day I cannot exactly explain. I was on a ghost tour in Port Arthur, Tasmania, which was a prison settlement for convicts at the time. Let me relay to you an important fact first: I am, generally, not a superstitious person and I've been on multiple tours like this before, which I usually scoff at but generally enjoy for the history behind it all.

Anyway, it was halfway around the tour that we were sitting in the middle of the main prison complex, which had several dark corridors where the prison cells were lined up. The tour guide was going on about the Warden or something, and in the background I hear a very faint rattling, that of a metal chain. I took no notice of it at first, could've been rustling or maybe a faint drizzle on the corregated roof of the nearby building. However, it got louder. And loud like a jackhammer across the street, there was no way nobody could hear this if they had properly functioning ears. I turn to my sister and asked (let me point out that she at the time ran crying down the corridor of our grandpa's house everytime there was a bump on the ceiling) said she couldn't hear anything, so I knew that there was definitely something wrong. The echoing got fierce, and I swear when I turned to look again down the corridor from which it was emanating, I could faintly see a physical form disappear into a prison cell.

Sends shivers down my spine to this day.

Also this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_Pass_incident
 
Oh shit. I wanted to bump this thread because my brother just reminded me of a creepy story I experienced.

This was back... I dunno, two years ago? I can't remember the exact date.

I initially started noticing up in the corner of my room, above my computer, some discoloration on the popcorn ceiling, and some areas where it was removed and it kind of looked like white interspersed with a bunch of pepper flakes.

Anyway, time went on and more bits of the popcorn ceiling started to peel and fall away, as I'd notice them on the ground by my computer and on top of it. I was worried, because I feared that there might be asbestos in the popcorn ceiling, something I read about about houses that date back into the 70's, like this one does. Told my dad about it, though he wasn't really sure what it could be, and wasn't worried. I also didn't find anything remarkable in my searches about what it could possibly be on the internet.

So one day as I was sleeping, I began to stir from my sleep feeling kind of itchy. My face was itching, my bare feet were itching. My whole body was just... itching. Finally, after some itching on my ears, I sat up in my bed, ready to get out and take a shower.

My glasses were off and my vision very blurry, but what I saw, I knew was unusual. I looked down at my covers, and they looked like they were moving and writhing around. I turned and looked at my pillow and it too looked like it was moving. And it wasn't pink either... it was speckled brown and pink. I reached over and put on my glasses and immediately let out a girly shriek and jumped out of bed. I felt stuff crawling on my feet once I hit the floor, and I was completely freaked out and fled from my room, closing the door behind me.

What was it? It was hundreds of thousands, maybe even a million or more winged termites. They had started descending from that corner in my room where the popcorn ceiling was peeling away, and that area had radically changed and opened up, with winged termites crawling all around it and on my computer, on my bed, on my carpet... on absolutely everything in my room. They were everywhere.

We had to quarantine my room, and take a vacuum to everything, making sure they were all sucked up and clear. It took a while, but eventually the room was clear, and later we called in a termite guy.

That had to be one of my freakiest wake up experiences ever... covered in all those termites, for who knows how long. The corner of my room where the popcorn ceiling was peeled away is still like that, giving me reminder of that horror I experienced, covered in insects.

Ugh. I think I made a thread on it before too... including before I knew what it was, like posting a photo of it or something. Can't remember though.
 
It has been reported that some victims of rape, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not wake up. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren’t being raped. The only way that they realized they needed to wake up was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to wake up. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP
 
My parents were away on a cruise in the mediterranean, it was just me and my sister in the house. Just to start off my sister, feeling vulnerable when our parents are away, has a habit of sleeping in my parents bed to feel comforted. It was a fact that all the members in the immediate family knew all too well.

I had gone to sleep two hours before her as she was watching late night horrors (Can you guess why she feels vulnerable all the time yet) and I had to get up early for college the next morning. During the night though, I had to take a piss so I went to the bathroom across the hallway. As I did I turned my eyes towards my parents bedroom, and sure enough I saw a sillourette of a body resting on my parents bed, but rather sleeping in the normal matter, she (what I can only assume) was sleeping the opposite way so she was in full view of the light coming from the hallway.

I didn't think anything of it till the next morning when I was getting ready for college. 10 minutes before I left, my sister came down to have a chat. She had asked me if I had slept in my parents bedroom. She knows full well that I don't, which made it all the stranger when she had mentioned that when she was going up stairs to sleep, she had saw myself sleeping in the room, so she went to sleep in her own room. Both me and my sister where wierded out my this so we both went upstairs to see if we accidently saw some stuff on the bed that could of looked like a figure. There was nothing on the bed....



Coming next week:
The strange flock noises over my house that lasted for 1 minute... at 1AM
High temperatures and Asian voices coming from the bathroom at my old house
 
DEATH eVADER said:
Coming next week:
The strange flock noises over my house that lasted for 1 minute... at 1AM
High temperatures and Asian voices coming from the bathroom at my old house
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So this was just the pilot episode? :LOL:
 
Zephos said:
Also this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_Pass_incident
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KineticAesthetic said:
Oh my ****ing god. **** you. I have never heard of this.

Plus I just went on one of the links to images
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I once read a pretty plausible theory on that. Essentially, the theory was that during the night, one or two of the hikers either heard a very loud jet roar, or an avalanche in the distance. He/she mistook this for being a nearby avalanche and immediately woke his friends to get the hell out of there because an avalanche was about to come down on them.

So, the people in that tent tore out of the tent with nothing but what they were sleeping in and ran. One possibly slipping and hitting his head on a rock.
They ended up getting lost in the woods at night, built a fire, two of them took the clothes of the other two dead hikers to try and stay a little warm. All of them eventually froze to death.

Later, the 4 still back in their tents that didn't flee decided to go searching for them. However, during this search an actual avalanche occurred, causing one person a serious skull fracture, and the other to bite of their tongue off.

The reason the bodies were found facing the direction of the tents, as if they were trying to reach them is pretty obvious. They just reach them in time.
 
lefty said:
Ok... ok. **** this thread.

I was up late last night reading scary stories on the internet trying to find something good to post here, but everything was cliche or badly typed or had Bruce Willis in it. So I says **** it and I goes ta bed.

Anyway, I'm about to get in the shower today and my mom tells me she's leaving soon. As I'm in the shower, I'm thinking maybe I could write my own story, I could think of something scary. Maybe make it personal like AL's story, something like I'm in the shower for a while then I hear a knock on the door. I assume it's my mom telling me she's leaving so I ask what? I hear no answer, then continue with my showering. Later when my mom comes home I ask her why she didn't say anything when she knocked on the door. Then she would say she left as soon as I turned the water on. Then who was door? dun dun dun, you know, general horror stuff.

So I'm in the shower and I'm thinking about all of this, among other scary stuff (what if there's someone standing outside the curtain? all I have to defend myself is a toothbrush and my large penis) then my mom comes up and knocks on the door. I'll admit, I jumped pretty good but seeing as how my mom was outside the bathroom I managed to play it off. I nonchalantly answered her and she told me she was leaving. I say bye and get back to washing. After ten minutes or so I'm getting all rinsed off and ready to get out...


when I hear a knock on the bathroom door.






This time I don't say anything, I just sit scared... I try not to make any noise, though obviously I'm in there cuz the shower is going. I listen over the water but don't hear anything, no footsteps, no nothing. I sit in that shower til the water is ice cold. Finally I turn it off and dry myself and open the bathroom door.

nothing.

And now I'm telling you all how you completely ruined my morning. Thanks.
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I don't know if you're messing or not but I had a similar experience before. I was thinking of writing a story. I had quite a number of ideas running through my head and I gave them each about a day's musing. After about three or four days of casual meditation I got to the horror story idea. I ran through a bunch of versions in my head (one involving a chemical plant, another taking place in World War One trenches) until I realise that my basic premise was a total and utter rip off of Nightmare at 20,000 Feet. I felt like a bit of a fool but hell, for a story about an ugly imp tauting William Shatner it's a ****ing scary.

So I shifted my focus from what sort of plotline and setting I could have, to what made that episode so scary it was stuck in my head without even realising. I Googled the episode and in the image results I saw the famous image of the imp pressing his face against the window staring and a bewildered Captain Kirk and it sent a shiver down my spine. That image, that idea, of an alien (and I mean alien here as in unknown, not an extra-terrestrial) staring at you through glass was terrifiying to me for some reason. Of course there's nothing scary about glass (unless you cut open your jugular on a shard) but it does allow for an extreme close-up while still making the creature seperated, putting great distance between Shatner and the Imp even though it's right there. It makes him helpless. So I though of coming up with a plotline to incorporate this image.

I also needed an monster. Through a lot of itteration I imagined a face. It was pale, and with dark eyes. It was in shadow and only vague shapes could be seen. It might be wearing goggles or that could be the shape of it's brow. Is that a mouth, or a mask? It's not clear. My creature ended up looking in at my protagonist through his bedroom window (I had the idea to have the bedroom on the first floor to make this stranger, but I thought that might be overkill). His hight was uncertain but his shape and posture was such that he was bent over watching my narrator. His face was owl like and white with dark circular eyes, too far apart and numerous other things wrong or missing.

It may have been a bad idea to try and shape your perfect frightening monster while lying in bed, with my window perfectly possitioned so I was looking right at it while turned one way, and had my back to it facing the other (I almost always sleep on my side). The window being the only source of illumination to the room. The window being rather large and eyecatching. The bedroom being underground and the window only facing out onto a narrow passageway with a stone wall.

I got up, closed the curtains and didn't sleep for hours.
 
zombieturtle01 said:
I once read a pretty plausible theory on that. Essentially, the theory was that during the night, one or two of the hikers either heard a very loud jet roar, or an avalanche in the distance. He/she mistook this for being a nearby avalanche and immediately woke his friends to get the hell out of there because an avalanche was about to come down on them.

So, the people in that tent tore out of the tent with nothing but what they were sleeping in and ran. One possibly slipping and hitting his head on a rock.
They ended up getting lost in the woods at night, built a fire, two of them took the clothes of the other two dead hikers to try and stay a little warm. All of them eventually froze to death.

Later, the 4 still back in their tents that didn't flee decided to go searching for them. However, during this search an actual avalanche occurred, causing one person a serious skull fracture, and the other to bite of their tongue off.

The reason the bodies were found facing the direction of the tents, as if they were trying to reach them is pretty obvious. They just reach them in time.
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That seems like a plausible theory, except it doesn't explain the fact that the bodies were slightly radioactive and had a strange orange tan... :|

Still it's an interesting story, and that guy that survived was just lucky that he felt sick and asked to return in time, otherwise he would've likely died with the others...
 
A creepy Victorian(ish) short story I remember reading as a child:-

SREDNI VASHTAR

Conradin was ten years old, and the doctor had pronounced his professional opinion that the boy would not live another five years. The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs. De Ropp, who counted for nearly everything. Mrs. De Ropp was Conradin's cousin and guardian, and in his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are necessary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself and his imagination. One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things---such as illnesses and coddling restrictions and drawn-out dulness. Without his imagination, which was rampant under the spur of loneliness, he would have succumbed long ago.

Mrs. De Ropp would never, in her honestest moments, have confessed to herself that she disliked Conradin, though she might have been dimly aware that thwarting him "for his good'' was a duty which she did not find particularly irksome. Conradin hated her with a desperate sincerity which he was perfectly able to mask. Such few pleasures as he could contrive for himself gained an added relish from the likelihood that they would be displeasing to his guardian, and from the realm of his imagination she was locked out---an unclean thing, which should find no entrance.

In the dull, cheerless garden, overlooked by so many windows that were ready to open with a message not to do this or that, or a reminder that medicines were due, he found little attraction. The few fruit-trees that it contained were set jealously apart from his plucking, as though they were rare specimens of their kind blooming in an arid waste; it would probably have been difficult to find a market-gardener who would have offered ten shillings for their entire yearly produce. In a forgotten corner, however, almost hidden behind a dismal shrubbery, was a disused tool-shed of respectable proportions, and within its walls Conradin found a haven, something that took on the varying aspects of a playroom and a cathedral. He had peopled it with a legion of familiar phantoms, evoked partly from fragments of history and partly from his own brain, but it also boasted two inmates of flesh and blood. In one corner lived a ragged-plumaged Houdan hen, on which the boy lavished an affection that had scarcely another outlet. Further back in the gloom stood a large hutch, divided into two compartments, one of which was fronted with close iron bars. This was the abode of a large polecat-ferret, which a friendly butcher-boy had once smuggled, cage and all, into its present quarters, in exchange for a long-secreted hoard of small silver. Conradin was dreadfully afraid of the lithe, sharp-fanged beast, but it was his most treasured possession. Its very presence in the tool-shed was a secret and fearful joy, to be kept scrupulously from the knowledge of the Woman, as he privately dubbed his cousin. And one day, out of Heaven knows what material, he spun the beast a wonderful name, and from that moment it grew into a god and a religion. The Woman indulged in religion once a week at a church near by, and took Conradin with her, but to him the church service was an alien rite in the House of Rimmon. Every Thursday, in the dim and musty silence of the tool-shed, he worshipped with mystic and elaborate ceremonial before the wooden hutch where dwelt Sredni Vashtar, the great ferret. Red flowers in their season and scarlet berries in the winter-time were offered at his shrine, for he was a god who laid some special stress on the fierce impatient side of things, as opposed to the Woman's religion, which, as far as Conradin could observe, went to great lengths in the contrary direction. And on great festivals powdered nutmeg was strewn in front of his hutch, an important feature of the offering being that the nutmeg had to be stolen. These festivals were of irregular occurrence, and were chiefly appointed to celebrate some passing event. On one occasion, when Mrs. De Ropp suffered from acute toothache for three days, Conradin kept up the festival during the entire three days, and almost succeeded in persuading himself that Sredni Vashtar was personally responsible for the toothache. If the malady had lasted for another day the supply of nutmeg would have given out.

The Houdan hen was never drawn into the cult of Sredni Vashtar. Conradin had long ago settled that she was an Anabaptist. He did not pretend to have the remotest knowledge as to what an Anabaptist was, but he privately hoped that it was dashing and not very respectable. Mrs. De Ropp was the ground plan on which he based and detested all respectability.

After a while Conradin's absorption in the tool-shed began to attract the notice of his guardian. "It is not good for him to be pottering down there in all weathers,'' she promptly decided, and at breakfast one morning she announced that the Houdan hen had been sold and taken away overnight. With her short-sighted eyes she peered at Conradin, waiting for an outbreak of rage and sorrow, which she was ready to rebuke with a flow of excellent precepts and reasoning. But Conradin said nothing: there was nothing to be said. Something perhaps in his white set face gave her a momentary qualm, for at tea that afternoon there was toast on the table, a delicacy which she usually banned on the ground that it was bad for him; also because the making of it "gave trouble,'' a deadly offence in the middle-class feminine eye.

"I thought you liked toast,'' she exclaimed, with an injured air, observing that he did not touch it.

"Sometimes,'' said Conradin.

In the shed that evening there was an innovation in the worship of the hutch-god. Conradin had been wont to chant his praises, tonight he asked a boon.

"Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.''

The thing was not specified. As Sredni Vashtar was a god he must be supposed to know. And choking back a sob as he looked at that other empty corner, Conradin went back to the world he so hated.

And every night, in the welcome darkness of his bedroom, and every evening in the dusk of the tool-shed, Conradin's bitter litany went up: "Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.''

Mrs. De Ropp noticed that the visits to the shed did not cease, and one day she made a further journey of inspection.

``What are you keeping in that locked hutch?'' she asked. "I believe it's guinea-pigs. I'll have them all cleared away.''

Conradin shut his lips tight, but the Woman ransacked his bedroom till she found the carefully hidden key, and forthwith marched down to the shed to complete her discovery. It was a cold afternoon, and Conradin had been bidden to keep to the house. From the furthest window of the dining-room the door of the shed could just be seen beyond the corner of the shrubbery, and there Conradin stationed himself. He saw the Woman enter, and then be imagined her opening the door of the sacred hutch and peering down with her short-sighted eyes into the thick straw bed where his god lay hidden. Perhaps she would prod at the straw in her clumsy impatience. And Conradin fervently breathed his prayer for the last time. But he knew as he prayed that he did not believe. He knew that the Woman would come out presently with that pursed smile he loathed so well on her face, and that in an hour or two the gardener would carry away his wonderful god, a god no longer, but a simple brown ferret in a hutch. And he knew that the Woman would triumph always as she triumphed now, and that he would grow ever more sickly under her pestering and domineering and superior wisdom, till one day nothing would matter much more with him, and the doctor would be proved right. And in the sting and misery of his defeat, he began to chant loudly and defiantly the hymn of his threatened idol:

Sredni Vashtar went forth,
His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white.
His enemies called for peace, but he brought them death.
Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful.

And then of a sudden he stopped his chanting and drew closer to the window-pane. The door of the shed still stood ajar as it had been left, and the minutes were slipping by. They were long minutes, but they slipped by nevertheless. He watched the starlings running and flying in little parties across the lawn; he counted them over and over again, with one eye always on that swinging door. A sour-faced maid came in to lay the table for tea, and still Conradin stood and waited and watched. Hope had crept by inches into his heart, and now a look of triumph began to blaze in his eyes that had only known the wistful patience of defeat. Under his breath, with a furtive exultation, he began once again the pæan of victory and devastation. And presently his eyes were rewarded: out through that doorway came a long, low, yellow-and-brown beast, with eyes a-blink at the waning daylight, and dark wet stains around the fur of jaws and throat. Conradin dropped on his knees. The great polecat-ferret made its way down to a small brook at the foot of the garden, drank for a moment, then crossed a little plank bridge and was lost to sight in the bushes. Such was the passing of Sredni Vashtar.
"Tea is ready,'' said the sour-faced maid; "where is the mistress?'' "She went down to the shed some time ago,'' said Conradin. And while the maid went to summon her mistress to tea, Conradin fished a toasting-fork out of the sideboard drawer and proceeded to toast himself a piece of bread. And during the toasting of it and the buttering of it with much butter and the slow enjoyment of eating it, Conradin listened to the noises and silences which fell in quick spasms beyond the dining-room door. The loud foolish screaming of the maid, the answering chorus of wondering ejaculations from the kitchen region, the scuttering footsteps and hurried embassies for outside help, and then, after a lull, the scared sobbings and the shuffling tread of those who bore a heavy burden into the house.

"Whoever will break it to the poor child? I couldn't for the life of me!'' exclaimed a shrill voice. And while they debated the matter among themselves, Conradin made himself another piece of toast.
 
Remus said:
That seems like a plausible theory, except it doesn't explain the fact that the bodies were slightly radioactive and had a strange orange tan... :|
Click to expand...

Actually, I forgot to mention the theory on that, it's really easy to explain actually. During that time period they used lanterns that had these packets that were uhm, well radioactive. It's what they ran on, and you would have to change these packets, and when you would change them you would often get some of the dust from the packets on you.


As for the orange tan, your corpse has been buried in snow for a couple of months, you get snow burn, you're going to look a little unusual, especially after the embalming process and after caking on make up to cover your degradation.
 
Oh, come on ZT, we both know it was yetis from outerspace that did this. You can't fool me, you can't hide the truth!!11
 
Hey Riom, I had a friend who cut open her jugular on a shard. True story. She was opening her window and the wind threw it back in her face. She died.
 
Some weird stuff has been happening in my house recently. Things have been moving around, in the middle of the night I been hearing tapping on things, and both me and my brother have been getting random scratches all over our bodies. All I really wanna get to the bottom of are the scratches. Any explanation?
 
ghosts will scratch you. I had a girlfriend once who kept getting scratched one day. We were driving in the car and suddenly she went "ow!" and grabbed at her neck, and by her collarbone it looked just as if someone had scratched her with their fingernail. That happened two or three times. According to her and her medium friend, it was a ghost who was in love with her or something.
 
^^ That's the stupidest thing I've heard all day.
 
ghosts can't feel love, it was obviously a sparkling vampire.
 
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