“Well, this wet, dirty night the two of them was up there alone, and the big one come flyin’ down, killed himself deader’n a herring.
“McLaren says the foot rope they were using parted and how he almost fell himself. But everybody who saw that rope knew she didn’t give away on her own. She had been cut through with a knife.
“After that whenever we came into port, McLaren thought we were goin’ to get the police after him, and he’d get pretty scared. But we couldn’t prove anything, so we didn’t try. In the end, I guess the big fella took care of things in his own way. If he was a ghost that came back, that’s what he was—if there be things like ghosts.”
The Little Black Dog
Billy Mansfield said that a little black dog followed him wherever he went. But he was the only one who saw it. So people thought he was kind of crazy. To drive the dog away, Billy was always hollering at it, throwing rocks at it. But the dog always came back.
The first time Billy saw that dog was the day he fought Silas Burton. Billy was just a young man then, but the Burtons and Billy’s family had been feuding for years.
When Billy saw Silas riding toward him, he went for his gun and Burton went for his. But Billy fired first. He hit Burton in the back, knocking him from his horse. Burton’s horse ran off, and his gun fell where he couldn’t reach it.
He lay there on the ground pleading with Billy not to kill him, but Billy killed him anyway. Burton’s little black dog was with him when he was shot. The dog kept licking Burton’s face, and barking and snarling at Billy. In his anger, Billy killed the dog too.
There wasn’t much law enforcement in those days, so Billy wasn’t arrested. But all that night he heard Burton’s dog outside his cabin, scratching on his door and barking to be let in. “I’m imagining this,” Billy said to himself. “I shot that dog. It’s dead.”
But the next morning Billy saw the dog. It was waiting for him outside. From then on there was not a day when he didn’t see it. And there wasn’t a night when he didn’t hear it scratching on his door, barking to be let in.
From then on, Billy was always finding black dog hairs on the sofa, on the floor, in his bed, even in his food. And the house and the yard stank of dog. That’s what Billy said.
Whenever somebody told him there wasn’t any dog to see, he’d say, “Maybe you don’t see it, but I do. And I’m not any crazier than you are.”
Things went on like that for many years. Then one morning in the middle of the winter the neighbors didn’t see any smoke coming out of Billy’s chimney. When they went over to check, Billy wasn’t there. A day or so later they found his body lying in the snow in a field back of his cabin.
Billy had plenty of enemies, and at first it seemed like somebody might have killed him. But there wasn’t a mark on his body. And there weren’t any footprints out there, except for Billy’s.
The doctor said Billy probably died of old age. But there was something odd about his death. When the neighbors found Billy, there were black dog hairs on his clothes. There were even a few on his face. It smelled like a dog had been out there. Yet no one had seen a dog anywhere.
Clinkity-Clink
An old lady got sick and died. She had no family and no close friends. So the neighbors got a gravedigger to dig a grave for her. And they had a coffin made, and they placed it in her living room. As was the tradition, they washed her body and dressed her up in her best clothes and put her in the coffin.
When she died her eyes were wide open, staring at everything and seeing nothing. The neighbors found two old silver dollars on her dresser, and they put them on her eyelids to keep them closed.
They lit candles and sat up with her so that she would not be too lonely on that first night that she was dead. The next morning a preacher came and said a prayer for her. Then everybody went home.
Later the gravedigger arrived to take her to the cemetery and bury her. He stared at the silver dollars on her eyes, and he picked them up. How shiny and smooth they were! How thick and heavy! “They’re beautiful,” he thought, “just beautiful.”
He looked at the dead woman. With her eyes wide open, he felt she was staring at him, watching him hold her coins. It gave him a creepy feeling. He put the coins back on those eyes of hers to keep them closed.
But before he knew it, his hands reached out again and grabbed the coins and stuck them in his pocket. Then he grabbed a hammer and quickly nailed shut the lid on the coffin.
“Now you can’t see anything!” he said to her. Then he took her out to the cemetery, and he buried her as fast as he could.
When the gravedigger got home, he put the two silver dollars in a tin box and shook it. The coins made a cheerful rattling sound, but the gravedigger wasn’t feeling cheerful. He couldn’t forget those eyes looking at him.
When it got dark, a storm came up, and the wind started blowing. It blew all around the house. It came in through the cracks and around the windows, and down the chimney.
BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! it went. Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! The fire flared and flickered.
The gravedigger threw some fresh wood on the fire, got into bed, and pulled the blankets up to his chin.
The wind kept blowing. BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! it went. Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! The fire flared and flickered and cast evil-looking shadows on the walls.
The gravedigger lay there thinking about the dead woman’s eyes staring at him. The wind blew stronger and louder, and the fire flared and flickered, and popped and snapped, and he got more and more scared.
Suddenly he heard another sound. Clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink, it went. Clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink. It was the silver dollars rattling in the tin box.
“Hey!” the gravedigger shouted. “Who’s taking my money?”
But all he heard was the wind blowing, Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! and the flames flaring and flickering, and snapping and popping, and the coins going clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink.
He leaped out of bed and chained up the door. Then he hurried back. But his head had barely touched the pillow when he heard, clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink.
Then he heard something way off in the distance. It was a voice crying, “Where is my money? Who’s got my money? Whoooo? Whoooo?”
And the wind blew Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! And the fire flared and flickered and snapped and popped, and the money went clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink.
The gravedigger was really scared. He got out of bed again and piled all the furniture against the door, and he put a heavy iron skillet over the tin box. Then he jumped back into bed and covered his head with the blankets.
But the money rattled louder than ever, and way off a voice cried, “Give me my money! Who’s got my money! Whoooo? Whoooo?” And the wind blew and the fire flared and flickered and snapped and popped, and the gravedigger shivered and shook and cried, “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!”
Suddenly the front door flew open, and in walked the ghost of the dead woman with her eyes wide open, staring at everything and seeing nothing. And the wind blew Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! and the money went clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink, and the fire flared and flickered and snapped and popped, and the ghost of the dead woman cried, “Oh, where is my money? Who’s got my money? Whoooo? Whoooo?” And the gravedigger moaned, “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!”
The ghost could hear her money going clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink, in the tin box. But her dead eyes couldn’t see the box. So she reached out with her arms and tried to find it.
(As you tell the story, stand up with your arms in front of you and begin groping around you.)
The wind went Bizee, bizee, BUZ-OOOOOO-O-O-O! and the money rattled, clinkity-clink, clinkity-clink! and the fire flared and flickered and snapped and popped, and the gravedigger shivered and shook and moaned, “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!” And the woman cried, “Give me my money! Who’s got my money? Whoooo? Whoooo?”
(Now quickly jump at somebody in the audience and scream:)
YOU’VE GOT IT!
>
She Was Spittin’ and Yowlin’ Just Like a Cat
The tales in this chapter are about an empty trunk, a neighbor who turns into a cat, a strange drum, some very tasty sausages, and other scary things.
The Bride
The minister’s daughter had just gotten married. After the wedding ceremony there was a great feast, with music and dancing and contests and games, even old children’s games.
When they got to playing hide-and-seek, the bride decided to hide in her grandfather’s trunk up in the attic.
“They’ll never find me there,” she thought.
As she was climbing into the trunk, the lid came down and cracked her on the head, and she fell unconscious inside. The lid slammed shut and locked.
No one will ever know how long she called for help or how hard she struggled to free herself from that tomb. Everyone in the village searched for her, and they looked almost everywhere. But no one thought of looking in the trunk. After a week her brand-new bridegroom and all the others gave her up for lost.
Years later a maid went up into the attic looking for something she needed. “Maybe it is in the trunk,” she thought. She opened it—and screamed. There lay the missing bride in her wedding dress, but by then she was only a skeleton.
Rings on Her Fingers
Daisy Clark had been in a coma for more than a month when the doctor said that she had finally died. She was buried on a cool summer day in a small cemetery about a mile from her home.
“May she always rest in such peace,” her husband said.
But she didn’t. Late that night a grave robber with a shovel and a lantern began to dig her up. Since the ground was still soft, he quickly reached the coffin and got it open.
His hunch was right. Daisy had been buried wearing two valuable rings—a wedding ring with a diamond in it, and a ring with a ruby that glowed as if it were alive.
The thief got down on his knees and reached into the coffin to get the rings. But they were stuck fast on her fingers. So he decided that the only way to get them was to cut off her fingers with a knife.
But when he cut into the finger with the wedding ring, it began to bleed, and Daisy Clark began to stir. Suddenly she sat up! Terrified, the thief scrambled to his feet. He accidentally kicked over the lantern, and the light went out.
He could hear Daisy climb out of her grave. As she moved past him in the dark, he stood there frozen with fear, clutching the knife in his hand.
When Daisy saw him, she pulled her shroud around her and asked, “Who are you?” When the grave robber heard this “corpse” speak, he ran! Daisy shrugged her shoulders and walked on, and never once looked back.
But in his fear and confusion, the thief fled in the wrong direction. He pitched headlong into her grave, fell on the knife, and stabbed himself. While Daisy walked home, the thief bled to death.
The Drum
Once there were two sisters. Dolores was seven, and Sandra was five. They lived in a small house in the country with their mother and their baby brother, Arthur. Their father was a seaman and was away on a long voyage.
One day Dolores and Sandra were running across a field near their house when they met a gypsy girl playing a drum. Her family was camping in the field for a few days.
As the girl played, a little mechanical man and woman came out of the drum and danced. Dolores and Sandra had never seen such a drum, and they begged the girl to give it to them.
She looked at them and laughed. “I will give it to you,” she said, “but only if you are really bad. Come back tomorrow and tell me how bad you were, and I will see.”
As soon as the two sisters got home, they started shouting, which was against the rules in their house. Then they wrote all over the walls with their crayons. At supper, they spilled their food. And when it was time for bed, they wouldn’t go. They did everything they could think of to upset their mother. They were really bad.
Early the next morning, they hurried off to find the gypsy girl. “We were really bad yesterday,” they told her, “so please give us the drum.”
But when they told her what they had done, the gypsy girl laughed.
“Oh, you must be much worse than that if I am to give you the drum,” she said.
As soon as Dolores and Sandra got home, they pulled up all the flowers in the garden. They let the pig out, and chased it away. They tore their clothes. They sloshed in the mud. They were a lot worse than the day before.
“If you do not stop,” their mother said, “I will go away and take Arthur with me. And you will get a new mother with glass eyes and a wooden tail.”
That scared Dolores and Sandra. They loved their mother, and they loved Arthur. They could not imagine being without them, and they began to cry.
“I don’t want to leave you,” their mother said. “But unless you change your behavior, I will have to leave you.”
“We’ll be good,” the girls promised. Yet they did not really believe that their mother would go away.
“She is just trying to scare us,” Dolores said later.
“We’ll get the drum tomorrow,” said Sandra. “Then we’ll be good again.”
Early the next morning, they rushed off to find the gypsy girl. When they found her, she was playing the drum again, and the little man and woman were dancing.
They told the gypsy girl how bad they had been the day before. “That must be bad enough to get the drum,” they said.
“Oh, no,” said the gypsy girl. “You must be much worse than that.”
“But we promised our mother to be good from now on,” said the girls.
“If you really want the drum,” said the gypsy girl, “you must be much worse.”
“It’s only for one more day,” Dolores told Sandra. “Then we will have the drum.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sandra said.
As soon as they got home, they beat the dog with a stick. They broke the dishes. They tore their clothes to pieces. They spanked their baby brother Arthur.
Their mother began to cry. “You are not keeping your promise,” she said.
“We will be good,” said Dolores.
“We promise,” said Sandra.
“I can’t wait much longer,” said their mother. “Please try.”
Early the next morning, before their mother was awake, Dolores and Sandra ran to see the gypsy girl. They told her all about the bad things they had done the day before.
“We were horrid,” said Sandra.
“We were worse than we have ever been,” said Dolores. “Can we have the drum now, please?”
“No,” said the gypsy girl. “I never meant to give it to you. It was just a game we were playing. I thought you knew that.”
Dolores and Sandra began to cry. They rushed home as quickly as they could. But their mother and Arthur were gone. “They are out shopping,” said Dolores. “They’ll be back soon.” But they were still not back when time for lunch came.
Dolores and Sandra felt lonely and scared. They wandered through the fields the rest of the day. “Maybe they will be home when we get back,” said Dolores.
When they got home, they saw through the window that the lamps were lit, and there was a fire in the fireplace. But they did not see their mother and Arthur. Instead, there was their new mother—her glass eyes glistening, her wooden tail thumping on the floor.
The Window
Margaret and her brothers, Paul and David, shared a small house on top of a hill just outside the village.
It was so warm one summer’s night that Margaret could not sleep. She sat up in bed in the darkness of her room watching the moon move across the sky. Suddenly something caught her eye.
She saw two small yellow-green lights moving through the woods near the graveyard at the bottom of the hill. They looked like the eyes of some animal. But she could not make out what kind of a creature it was.
Soon the creature left the woods and moved up the hill toward the house. For a few minutes, Margaret lost sight of it. Then s
he saw it coming across the lawn toward her window. It looked something like a man, and yet it didn’t.
Margaret was terrified. She wanted to run from her room. But the door was next to her window. She was afraid the creature would see her and break in before she could escape.
When the creature turned and moved in another direction, Margaret rushed to the door. But before she could open the door, it was back. Margaret found herself staring through the window at a shrunken face like that of a mummy. Its yellow-green eyes gleamed like a cat’s eyes. She wanted to scream, but she was so frightened that she could not make a sound.
The creature broke the window glass, unlocked the window, and crawled inside. Margaret tried to flee, but the creature caught her. It twisted its long, bony fingers into her hair, pulled back her head, and sank its teeth into her throat.
Margaret screamed, and fainted. When her brothers heard her piercing scream, they rushed to her room. But by the time they got the door unlocked, the creature had fled. Margaret lay on the floor bleeding and unconscious. While Paul tried to stop the bleeding, David chased the creature down the hill toward the graveyard. But soon he lost sight of it.
The police thought it was the work of an escaped lunatic who believed he was a vampire.
When Margaret recovered, her brothers wanted to move to a safer place where it would be harder to break in. But Margaret refused. The creature would never come back. She was sure of that. But just in case, Paul and David began to keep loaded pistols in their rooms.
One night months later, Margaret was awakened by a scratching sound at the window. When she opened her eyes, there was the same shrunken face staring in at her.
Scary Stories Complete Set Page 7