Thursday, April 24, 2014

Five micro horror stories that creeped me out

Culled from the already short horror fiction known as Creepypasta, these shorties will leave you shivering.

5. Denial

I waved goodbye to my friends as I stepped off the bus and headed to my house. I was super excited to get home and see my parents. They hadn’t talked much at all yesterday. As a matter of fact they just stayed in their bedroom all day. They haven’t been feeling well. I ran up the stairs of the front porch and swung the front door open with a big, cheesy grin on my face; However, when I opened the door there was no one in the den. The television was off and the house seemed to be abnormally quiet. I took a step in and started calling out.

“Mom? Dad?” I called. I knew they were supposed to be here. Dad had the day off and mom didn’t have any plans with her girlfriend’s until next week, right? I placed my backpack on the ground next to the couch and walked into the kitchen to check the calendar. October fifth. I was right. Dad took this day off so him, mom, and I could go see a movie together. “They’ve got to be here somewhere”, I thought myself.  Then it hit me. School let out early today because of a busted water pipe. I looked at the watch on my wrist. “It’s only twelve o’ clock. They may still be sleeping.” I headed back through the den and slowly opened their bedroom door. Surely enough, there they lie. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth and my grin returned. I tiptoed over to my mom’s side of the bed and pulled the covers back.

I was greeted with the same sight as the day before. She lay there motionless, eyes glazed over, mouth agate. Her skin was a pale white and her hair was beginning to thin. The soup I gave her yesterday sat on the bedside table. It was stale now and she hadn’t even touched it. I’m beginning to think they don’t want to feel better. I placed the cover back over her head, grabbed the old soup and left the room slowly closing the door behind me. I decided not to wake either of them considering they must need their sleep. I’m sure they will be up for it tomorrow. Until then, I have a ton of Psychology homework to be done. We’re doing this paper on people who have some type of disorder causing them to live in denial of even some of the most obvious things. I couldn’t imagine living like that.

4. A trip to the cemetery

On an early dim morning an elderly woman rested her hand atop a gravestone.

“Henry Blackwood-1938-2004.”

She rested flowers on it and wept, something she didn’t usually do. She always made sure to bring something of Henry’s when she made her annual visit to his grave. Her memory wasn’t what it used to be and her brain needed help to get it jogged. She brought something he hated: his hearing aids. She remembered wistfully how he never used them, always insisting he had excellent hearing despite keeping the television’s volume up so high.

Now all she wanted was his return to her loving embrace. “Oh Henry,” she fell to her knees and looked to the sky, “How I wish you’d come back to me.”

Up in the sky and through her blurred teary vision she saw a red star. It was faint but she heard a malignant chuckle and the star flashed to match it. Then it disappeared with the raising sun.

She wiped away her tears. Strange. Was it a product of her imagination? She stood up and surveyed the area but saw nothing. It seemed like the moment was merely nothing but old, senile, womanly mood swings. As she smiled at her silly old self, a question came to her that felt like part of a dark realization. Could the battery in the hearing aid still work? She attached it to her best ear and turned it on. She could hear the rustling of crow feathers in a nearby tree. It probably still worked due to her husband’s lack of commitment to use it. Then, swallowing hard, she rested her ear on the ground above his grave. Her mouth dropped in horror as she heard scratching, shuffling, and a familiar voice bellowing a horrified scream.

3. 4:03

It was 4:03 in the morning and I woke up screaming. It was my dream. In my dream, I watched everyone I ever knew or loved be killed by the creature. It had a short fat body, and long slender arms, which ended with claws that looked more like swords than claws. Its eyes were slits that glowed red in the darkness, and its teeth were long like horns, and sharp like steak knives. It looked at me before it killed them, and laughed each time before it ripped apart my loved ones with its sharp claws. How had it found us? It tricked me into letting it into my home, by mimicking the voice of my father; it couldn’t come in without permission it told me after it ripped out my Mother’s heart. The dream ended with the creature laughing its evil cackle and slowly walking towards me, dragging its claws on the floor, I screamed, and sat up. I was in my room, in my bed, safe again. 4:03, I hear a knock at the door, I froze up instantly.

“Tommy, I heard you screaming, are you alright?” I heard my mother say. What a relief, Mom’s here.
“I’m fine Mom, just a bad dream” I replied, the relief washing over me
“Okay honey, I got you a glass of water, do you want it? Mom said back to me
“Sure, come in” I said. And as those words left my mouth, I remembered that it was September, and I had moved back into my college dorm 3 weeks ago.

2.  Evening Routine

You know how that always goes. They look up at the mirror and it’s right there behind them. Just stare down and turn the sink handle. Reach over for the towel. No, whatever you just felt isn’t there, bring your hand back, you don’t need to dry them anyway, you’re going to bed. Keep your head down, keep your hair over your face like a visor, look at your feet when you turn around. Now pull open the door, don’t look ahead down the hall, of course it’ll be standing right there watching you, just keep looking down, act like you’re half awake, maybe you can fool it. Turn left and go straight ahead, don’t look down the left or right halls as you reach your door, don’t even indulge your peripheral vision, just get there. Go to your computer and turn off the screen, you know exactly where the switch is, don’t look at what’s flashing on the screen, you know that whatever is on there isn’t what you left it on. Just kneel and hold the power button, should only take five seconds or so. Come on. Now turn and walk to your dresser just like before. No, don’t look its feet, look at yours, keep looking down and walking. Don’t walk too slow, don’t walk too fast. Pull off your shirt. Don’t take forever getting the thing off, do it quickly, same with your pants. Careful, don’t trip yourself. Open the drawer, and just put them both in, who cares if it’s just the one for shirts, don’t look at what else is in there, just close it. Some of the shirt got caught at the top, open it again, shove it in, close it. Ok, now turn again, look down. Don’t stand too close to the bottom of the bed, don’t let it grab your ankles, just get on the bed. Now, move the pillows and lie on your side with your back to the wall, keep your eyes closed, ignore the freezing wall. Grip the covers from the inside tightly, in case it tries to pull them off. Keep your eyes shut.

Don’t listen to it.

1.  The Bad Dream

“Daddy, I had a bad dream.” You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it’s 3:23.

“Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?”

“No, Daddy.”

The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter’s pale form in the darkness of your room.

“Why not sweetie?”

“Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up.” For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can’t take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.


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