Scary stories (dont read if you are easily scared)

[Squid-a-roni]

double post is when youn post twice in a row

[ayato]

ohh sorry.heres a story called the golden hand
He never paid much attention to the neighbors living on his city block until the day the pretty middle-aged widow moved in two doors down from him. She was plump and dark with sparkling eyes, and she always wore dark gloves on her hands, even indoors.

He went out of his way to meet her, and they often "bumped" into each other in the street and stood talking. One day, as she brushed the hair back from her forehead, he caught a glimpse of gold under the glove on her right arm. When he asked her about it, she grinned coquettishly and told him that she had lost one hand a few years back and now wore a golden hand in its place. In that moment, a terrible lust woke in his heart - not to possess the lady herself, but to possess the solid gold hand that she wore under her long black gloves.

He courted the widow with every stratagem known to him; flowers, trips to the theater, gifts, compliments. And he won her heart. Within a month, they were standing in front of a minister, promising to love one another until death parted them. Within another month, he was a widower and had buried his ailing wife in the local cemetery - without her golden hand. It had been so easy. A slow poison, administered daily to resemble a wasting disease. No one - not his wife, not the family doctor, not their neighbors - suspected murder. And the night after the funeral, he slept with the golden hand under his pillow.

It was a dark night. Clouds covered the moon, and the wind was whistling down the chimney and rattling the shutters of the town house. He was deeply asleep when the door to his room slammed open with a loud bang and a wild wind whipped around the room, scattering papers and books and clothing and table coverings every which way. He sat up, startled by the sudden noise, and his pulse began to pound when he saw a greenish-white light bobbing slowly into the room. Before his eyes, the light slowly grew larger, taking on the shape of his dead wife. She was missing one arm. "Where is my golden hand?" she moaned, her dark eyes blazing with red fire. "Give me my golden hand!"

He tried to speak, but his mouth was so dry with fear that he could only make soft gasping noises. The glowing phantom moved closer to him, her once-lovely face twisted into a hideous green mask. "You stole my life and you stole my hand. Give me back my golden hand!" the dead wife howled. The noise rose higher and higher, and the phantom pulsed with a strident green light that smote his eyes, making them water.

He cowered back against his pillows, and the hard shape of the golden hand pressed against his back. And then he felt the golden hand twitch underneath him as the mangled green phantom that had been his wife swooped down upon him, pressing his face against the pillow in a suffocating green cloud. He tried to scream, but it was cut off suddenly by a terrible pressure against his throat, cutting off his breath. The world went black.

The next morning, when the housemaid came into the room with her master's morning cup of tea, she found him lying dead on the floor, with the golden hand clutched around his throat.

[Whiteclan]

2.The AIM scare
One night, bored, i logged on to AIM instant messenger, to chat about a fun halloween party coming up with my friends. We were all bored of one on one conversations so we opened up a fun chat room. Then, someone we didnt know came in to the chat, he seemed nice but seemed kinda off. about an hour later my friends logged off, leaving me and only the stranger. he logged out of the conversation and one on one IMed me, saying hello. I greeted back, and asked what his name was, how old he was, you know, basic conversation. he told me he was older than me, which i found weird..why not give me a number? then he said his name was Ricky. I gave him my name and he said, oh i already know. it startled me, so, intruiged i asked more, i finally got to, where do you live? and he said in your house. thats strange i though...and scary! i blocked him. then, i instantly i hear YOUVE GOT MAIL, and i open it up to him saying, why would you ex out? do you want to speak personaly? i replyed with why he was scaring me? he said why not turn around and ask me to my face? i gasp, and, crying i turn around., but noone wad there! i laughed, and as i turned around to say "very funy" to him, he logged off. then, i heard the phone ring, and he said, why hello there, im coming to say hello personaly. i scream and hang up, then call the police. they say if he calls again, to call back and they will trace his call. i hang up, and he calls again, he says hes closer, so i call the police again, they say to stay calm , they are tracking it as they speak. then he calmly tells me to go to my front door, and open it, i do this, then he tells me to run as fast as i can, up the street to the telephone booth, and they have someone meeting me there, i ask why, but he hangs up before i can ask, so, terrifyed, i run. just as i reach the phonebotth, a police officer grabs me, and pulls me to his chest, and pulls out a gun and points out towards where my hous ewas, keepimng me safe. i thank him, but asking why he couldnt just come to my house, and as several men run towards my house, with guns and shields, he informs me that the calls....were coming from a cell phone in the closet behind were i sit at the computer.

Taht ones creepy hes a STALKER

[ayato]

yeah it is creepy
La Mala Hora
My friend Isabela called me one evening before dinner. She was sobbing as she told me that she and her husband Enrique were getting divorced. He had moved out of the house earlier that day and Isabela was distraught.

I called my husband, who was on a business trip in Chicago, and he agreed that I should go stay with Isabela for a few days to help her during this difficult time. I packed a small suitcase and got right into the car. It was late, and it would take me at least four hours to drive from my home to Sante Fe. Isabela was expecting me to arrive around midnight.

As I traveled down the dark, wet highway, I kept feeling chills, as if someone or something were watching me. I kept looking in the rear view mirror, and glancing into the back seat. No one was there. Don't be ridiculous, I told myself, wishing fervently that I was home in my bed instead of driving on a dark, rainy highway. There was almost no traffic, and I heartily wished that I would soon reach Sante Fe.

I turned off the highway just before I reached the city, and started down the side roads that led to Isabela's house. As I approached a small crossroads, I saw a woman step into the street directly in front of my car. I shrieked in fright and slammed on my brakes, praying I would miss her.

The car shuddered to a halt, and I looked frantically around for the woman. Then I saw her, right beside my window, looking in at me. She had the face of a demon, twisted, eyes glowing red, and short pointed teeth. I screamed as she leapt at my window, her clawed hands striking the glass. I put my foot down on the accelerator and the car leapt forward. For a few terrible moments, she ran along side the car, keeping up easily and striking at me again and again. Then she fell behind and in the rear view mirror I saw her growing taller and taller, until she was as large as a tree. Red light swirled around her like mist, and she pointed after me, her mouth moving though I could not make out the words. I jerked my attention back to the road, afraid what might happen to me if my car ran off the street.

I made it to Isabela's house in record time and flung myself out of the car, pounding on her door frantically and looking behind me to see if the demon-faced woman had followed me. Isabela came running to the door and let me in.

"Shut the door! Shut it!" I cried frantically, brushing past her into the safety of the house.

"Jane, what is wrong?" she asked, slamming the door shut. She grabbed my hand and led me into the living room. I sank onto the couch and started sobbing in fear and reaction. After several minutes, I managed to gasp out my story. Isabela gasped and said: "Are you sure you were at a crossroads when you saw her?"

I nodded, puzzled by her question.

"It must have been La malhora," Isabela said, wringing her hands.

"The bad hour?" I asked.

"This is bad, Jane. Very bad," Isabela cried. "La Malhora only appears at a crossroads when someone is going to die."

Ordinarily, I would have laughed at such a superstition, but the appearance of the demon-woman had shaken me. Isabela got me a cup of hot cocoa, brought my luggage in from the car, and sent me to bed. She was so concerned for me that she didn't once mention the divorce or Enrique.

I felt much better the next morning, but I could not shake the feeling of dread that grew within me all day. Neither of us mentioned La Malhora, but we were both thinking of her when I told Isabela that I wanted to go home. Isabela insisted on accompanying me. I flatly refused to drive after dark. I was afraid I would see the demon-woman again when I passed the crossroads.

We left the next morning, and we hadn't been home more than twenty minutes when a police car pulled into my driveway. I knew at once what it meant, and so did Isabella.

The officers spoke very gently to me, but nothing could soften the news. My husband had been mugged on the way back to his hotel after dinner last night. His body had not been found until this morning. He had been shot in the head and was killed instantly.

[SeddieDeer]

O.O.
Not exactly a story...But its 4am and it scared the cupcakes out of me.

''Did you ever see one of those videos where you are asked to look for, or follow, a specific thing through out the video? Then, at the end, they reveal that as you were watching, something large and intrusive moved around in plain sight and you never even noticed it. It’s frightening how often that happens, like how I just moved from the doorway into your room as you read this.''

[Jenn the Psycho]

I have a few stories, all are 100% true :3

My aunt and uncle were moving into a new house, and they bought an old house that a wonman lived in. This woman was widowed, her husband was dead, and when her kids came to check on her and ask if she was okay, she would answer yes, I was just talking to your father. The kids put her in a nursing home after a week or so, then put the house up for sale, which my aunt and uncle bought within a week or less. Well, my uncle was at work, and my aunt home alone, and an onld man walked in the room she was in, and he looked at her and said in an angry voice, "Where's my wife?"
Well, my aunt got out quickly and waited for my uncle to get back, and they moved out and put the house up for sale again, they didn't go back, but when you go around the house, you get cold chills really badly.

My dad used to be a semi-driver, all over the U.S. except for Alaska, but once, when he was in Hawaii, he was on a tour, and on one part of the island he was on, there were two boys chucking rocks, chanting "You can't get me, you can't get me!" Over and over, and he couldn't figure it out a first, but later he discovered they were taunting demons. Well the next day, the boys went missing, and to this day, they haven't found the bodies of the two boys.

My aunt was telling me a story, a true one of course, about her friend's birthday party, the girls were in the basement, but my aunt wasn't there, anyways, they were in the laundry room area with the lights off and a mirror, so they decided to play 'Bloody Mary' and though the woman refuses to speak of what happened, she tell people, all the time, never play Bloody Mary. The woman was scarred for life by the experience.

Another thing they did, was in church, they would do the two finger lift thing, they would go in a room and try and pick a person up, just two of them, and as much as they tried, they couldn't, then they shut of the lights and said, "Think light." and they could pick the person up from the chair with two fingers, no matter how big the person was, but I don't recommand this game, it
is not a good game to play. My dad and aunts, they were quite well behaved in their religious boundaries, and that game was the worst thing they did, and they told me not to do it, ever, so really, don't do it, but it was just another story to share :3

Oh, I almost forgot, when my dad and aunts were kids, they shared a room in my grandparents old house, and sometimes they'd wake up, and they couldn't move or talk, they were completly forozen, only one at a time of course, but as soon as they could manage a squeak, they could move again.

[Shinigami_Ryuk]

One time when I was trying to get to sleep and there was a shadow that wasn't made by anything in my room...it kept rustling and moving. The next night it wasn't there...

[Zitface]

SKLDHFKJSDLGK. I know this legend, as being a native of Ohio, of the Melon Head Children. I just happened to be STUPID enough to look up PICTURES of these things. Bad idea. Baaaad idea. e-e
Here's the story:
The melon head stories of Ohio are primarily associated with the Cleveland suburb of Kirtland. According to local lore, the melon heads were originally orphans under the watch of a mysterious figure known as Dr. Crow (sometimes spelled Crowe or Kroh). Crow is said to have performed unusual experiments on the children, who developed large, hairless heads and malformed bodies. Some accounts claim that the children were already suffering from hydrocephalus, and that Crow injected even more fluid into their brains.

Eventually, the legend continues, the children killed Crow, burned the orphanage, and retreated to the surrounding forests. Today, some believe that the melon heads may be sighted along Wisner Road in Kirtland and Chardon Township.

I lost the page that has the version I prefer, because it includes one detail this one forgot:
They also feed on babies. Eeyup. They eat your babbies on the sides of them Cleveland roads.

Here's another Ohio legend:
Cheyenne Dogmen
Back in the Native american days, there was reportedly a tribe of Native Americans, what tribe has been lost either to history or to me, that were rumored to be able to turn into dogs, and in some tellings of this story, wolves. It was said that they died down and out with the other tribes, but it is rumored that there are still a few dogmen roaming the woods around Cheyenne, Ohio. As in the case of the variations, it is also told that they are merely the spirits of the dogmen.

I heard this one by ear, so the details are a bit fuzzy. I personally LOVE the Dogmen story.

Ohio is famous for Helltown and it's Cry Baby Bridges, and a long time ago, when I was probably eight or nine, my sister (Ashley) went to a Cry Baby Bridge with her friends, (one that's boarded off from the public now, good for her for getting to it before it got shut down) , two or three of her friends, and she came home BAWLING. Her friends looked like they saw a ghost. They didn't see one, but they sure as hell saw Ashley's hair almost get pulled out of her scalp by something that wasn't there. Something LITERALLY tried to pull her hair out of her scalp, with RIPPING force.

Another Ohio legend:
The aforementioned "Helltown"
"There are many legends regarding Helltown. The most popular ones regard satanists and an abandoned house in the middle of the woods. Others regard the Boston Cemetery and the Boston Mills Road bridge, which is believed to be a crybaby bridge.
Stanford Road
Stanford Road, nicknamed "The Highway to Hell," features prominently in Helltown's myths and legends. A steep hill and sharp dropoff on the road, leading to a barricade, is known as "The End of the World."
Cemetery
Another popular place for legends is the Boston cemetery, which is said to be haunted. Reports claim sightings of a ghostly man, a moving tree, and grave robbers.
The School Bus
There was an abandoned school bus along Stanford Road near the End of the World that was supposedly haunted; at night a ghostly figure smoking a cigarette could be seen inside the bus. The bus has since been removed.
Satanists
Satanists have been said to practice rituals involving animal sacrifice at a Presbyterian church off of Boston Mills Road. Decorative fascia boards on the church had what appeared to be upside-down crosses carved into them. These fascia boards were removed sometime in the early-to-mid 2000s (decade). It was also reported that groups of black hooded figures, apparently Satanists, tried to stop occupants passing through Boston Village at night in cars by blocking the road. More recently, the myth has included the KKK in the place of Satanists. It's also said that an escaped mental patient roams the woods at night looking for victims.
Mutants
As mentioned above, a rumor persists about the town being the site of a chemical spill or a chemical plant explosion in the area. Usually, a butane plant is the cause. This is often used to explain the local legend of the "Peninsula Python", a gigantic snake that wanders the area's woods. However, there has never been a chemical plant in the area; the "Peninsula python" myth dates back to the 1940s. There was, as mentioned above, a chemical dump a short distance from Boston Village, but no one other than the hiker was ever affected by the spill. It has been proven there has since never been a spill in that area."
My thanks to Wikipedia.

Another of my favorite Ohio legends:
Warlock's Grave
"An absurdly decrepit, easily overlooked cemetery in New Philadelphia is one of that town's best-known haunted places. The fenced-in plot is located at the corner of Ridge Road and University Drive, and it's only recognizable as a graveyard if you open the gate and step inside. Otherwise, the flattened headstones are obscured by the surrounding grass and other greenery. Rehobeth Church stood here from 1850 until 1877.
One stone in particular is the focal point of the legends: a black rectangle near the back of the enclosure. They say a warlock is buried here, and they also say that his head was cut from his body and secured into the black stone. Reuniting the two parts will cause him to rise from the dead. My advice is to leave him alone. But that might not be enough; according to the myth, each year the two parts inch closer to one another, subject to the irresistable pull of his will even 100+ years after his death. When the two parts meet and his head mounts his shoulders once more, he'll emerge from the grave and wreak warlock-y havoc on New Philadelphia. Or so they say."
The last part is a bit of a buzz kill, but hey, they could be lying.

"It turns out that the guy whose body (skeleton, now) rests beneath the warlock stone was actually the one who donated the money to build Rehobeth Church, so if he really did make a pact with Satan (as warlocks are reputed to do), he must have been able to keep his hobbies separate from his philanthropy. Or maybe he was just hedging his bets."
My thanks to http://www.forgottenoh.com/Counties/Tus ... obeth.html

I'm intensely proud of being an Ohioan, as judged by the immense amount of legends.
Bloody Mary is also a statewide local legend. Suck it.
get it suck it, bloody mary blood vampires crappy pun i know

[Forever is Now]

''Did you ever see one of those videos where you are asked to look for, or follow, a specific thing through out the video? Then, at the end, they reveal that as you were watching, something large and intrusive moved around in plain sight and you never even noticed it. It’s frightening how often that happens, like how I just moved from the doorway into your room as you read this.''

This isnt scary, but as I read the last sentance the door creaked and I think I may have had a heart attack

Click Clack

In a small town of Kentucky there was this old war veteran. His legs were blown off in the war, and so the only way he could move around was by dragging himself around by his long long long nails. He was also a psycho. He would come around the town and disembowel people with his long long nails. So, because of this, the people were ordered to go inside at exactly 6:00 pm and lock their doors.

Well, one night a little girl asked her mom if she could go play at her friends house. The mother looked at the clock, it was 4:00. She told the little girl to be home by 5:45 because thats when "click-clack" came out. The little girl agreed and was on her way. She played and played and I guess she lost track of time because when she headed home, it was already 5:48. She thought, no hurry, ill make it home on time. But that was when she saw the ice cream man. She bought one and by the time she really started to go home was 6:00. She observed people locking their doors and calling in there kids.
"Shoot, I'd better run". she thought. Finally she reached her street. But thats when she heard the noise...click...clack.....drag....click...clack....drag.... It got louder and louder. She turned around and at the very end of her street was click clack, dragging himself towards her...click...clack...drag.... She ran to her door and banged furiously against the wood, tears streaming down her face, but her mother was in the shower, the noise of the jets of water drowning out the terrirfied cries from her daughter, she figured her daughter was already asleep so she decided not to wake her and went to bed. Her daughter had now given up, and weakley knocked on the door, her mother assuming it was click clack ignored it....click...clack...drag.... The next morning, the mother opened the door to get her newspaper only to find her daughters body and in blood written on the tree was, "Mom why didn't you open the door?"

our teacher read this to us, and for the rest of the day people were dragging rulers across their desks -.-

[Shinigami_Ryuk]

Here's one out of sheer boredom...it's kinda like the "Blue lady" story, but I heard it differently...so here's my version...

I was with my boyfriend at his mate's house party, and it was my first time there, and I'd heard about the wacky stuff they get up to. Like spiking people's drinks with Fairy Liquid, Drawing on you with permanent marker while you sleep, painting you blue, shaving your hair off, or ductaping you to a mattress (again while you sleep), so I was wary of what to expect. Turns out it wasn't that bad. Every-one else had gone home, it was just me, my boyfriend (cause we stayed over for the wekend), Aldridge and his house-mate, Phil. So we were just sat chatting about music and stupid stuff. Untill Phil started telling horror stories. Usually I'm not one to be phased abut horror stories, but this one was different...almost real...but me being me, I shrugged it off. It was about thi ghost of a girl who got covered in pig's blood dyed blue at her prom because nobody liked her. Because of this she hung herself. When the people at the school found out about it they just laughed. Untill paranormal things started happeneing to them...Firstly they started to turn slightly blue, then they started crying blood for no apparent reason, then they were found in their rooms hanging from te ceiling by a rope around their necks...like the how the girl was found. Eventually the school had to shut down, and is now haunted by the ghosts of the kids who were killed.
By this time I was falling asleep, that was untill Phil said that who-ever told the story would have the same fate as the kids who were killed...so me and Sam went to bed warilywondering if it was true...
Oh look...I'm turning blue...