Anthology of Horror Stories

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Anthology of Horror Stories Page 11

by Daphne Haydens


  The anxiety caused her bladder to fill quickly. She felt it ... she had to go to the bathroom again, but she didn't want to. She was exceptionally restless for the ghost to appear.

  " But the ghost hasn't attacked me up until now," she reasoned.

  It took her several minutes of withstanding her physical advises before she gave in and got up. She walked through the big hallway and saw the moon through the window. Then she switched on the restroom light and looked in the mirror.

  She gasped for air. She wanted to scream, but something was telling her not to ... something ... or somebody! There she was, the little ghost girl. She was holding her finger in front of her mouth as to tell Emma to be quiet. Emma practically peed right there, but she held it in. She was terribly scared. She looked behind her. The ghost was gone. The only place she saw her, was in the mirror.

  " What do you want?" she finally asked, intending to communicate with this spirit from the other realm.

  The ghost girl waved to the right, telling her to follow her.

  " I need to go first," Emma said, so she sat down and went.

  After she flushed, the ghost girl appeared in front of her, signaling Emma to follow her again. Emma obeyed blindly. She knew something was wrong, but the little ghost girl didn't look so scary anymore. She was just like her, except for the fact that she was a ghost.

  They walked through the corridor, with the ghost girl leading the way. When they were in the bedroom, she signaled to get up her mom and sister.

  " Why?" Emma asked.

  The ghost girl came closer and was right in her face, giving her a rebuking look, as if she was saying, "Just do it already."

  It surprised Emma, but that was precisely what the ghost girl wanted. So Emma said, "Mother! Sophia! Get up!”

  They both woke up and saw the ghost.

  " Whoa! What is that thing?" Sophia asked. "Is that a ghost?"

  " Dear, please keep away from that thing," Roxanne said. "Come here."

  " No, Mother," Emma replied. "I think she is attempting to tell us something. Let's just follow her."

  " Are-are you sure?" Roxanne asked. "How do you know we can trust this ... uhm ... ghost ... this girl?"

  " I just do. Trust me. At first, I was terrified too, but I know now that she is showing me things, so it must be all right."

  " Fine. Let's see what she will show us" was the response.

  All in their sleeping dresses, the mother and 2 daughters followed the ghost girl, who was flying much faster and much faster through the long corridors of the giant house. Eventually, she flew down the stairs to the front door.

  Panting a little, Roxanne asked, "What is it already? My curiosity has been triggered."

  " Let's open the front door," Sophia said. "That's where it must be ... the thing she wants to show us."

  They unlocked the front door and walked outside. It was cold, especially on their bare feet, but it was manageable. The ghost flew in front of them and hovered in the air for a minute, pointing at the mud. Roxanne and her two girls looked surprised.

  " Is it the painting?" Emma asked.

  The ghost girl nodded.

  They came closer, and the mother dug into the mud to grab the ugly monster painting and its frame. She brushed off the mud and then she saw it.

  " Oh no," she said.

  " What is it, Mother?" Sophia demanded to know.

  " We are doomed. This painting meant something. Look!”

  She revealed the back of the painting to her daughters. It read the following:

  Wherever this painting will be, the next blast will be. One hundred exploding monsters in the dark of the night, only lit up under the moon. Beware the curse. Vengeance will be theirs.

  " What does that mean, Mommy?" Emma asked.

  " It means we get out of here ... quick!" she answered.

  They looked at the ghost girl one last time. "Thank you," Roxanne said. "Thank you for warning us. Quickly, girls, don't worry about our things. The majority of them are still at the other house anyhow. We just need to run. Let's go! Let's go!”

  She grabbed her daughters' hands and ran downhill with them, away from the house. When she felt she was far enough, she looked around and gazed at her acquired home. The ghost girl was still there, waving at them. Then she sought to the right and saw numerous of those green evildoers rush up the hill and run at the house. Some of them tripped, others leapt over rocks and moved faster, but all of them were speeding into the same direction. When they arrived, the house exploded into dozens of different places.

  Booooooooooom!!!!

  " Mom!" Emma and Sophia both screamed. Roxanne knelt down and put her arms around her daughters, just protecting their ears from the noise and their sight from the bright light the fire originated.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

  It didn't stop for another five minutes. Exploding monsters were still assaulting the house and committing suicide doing it. When it was over, Roxanne let go of her daughters. They all watched their freshly acquired house burn to the ground.

  " Why did this happen, Mom?" Sophia asked. "I don't understand."

  " When your dad died," Roxanne explained, "he usually talked about the monsters he battled at the borders of our land. He must have killed thousands of them before he died in fight. He also mentioned a little girl he tried to save but couldn't. The guilt was strong. It was as if he had failed entirely. I still remember him talking about it over and over again."

  " But why did the green beasts assault our house?" Sophia asked.

  " They wanted payback. They finally found our address and wanted to avenge the deaths of other beasts. It all makes sense to me. The girl who died, probably suspected it and came to this house to caution us."

  " So where will we live now?" Emma asked.

  " Oh, don't stress. We still have our other home. We will move back there. The only thing that's a downer, is that this house was a lot bigger. It was huge! I type of liked it."

  The 3 of them started to walk to the town from whence they came a few days earlier.

  " Mom," Emma said after a while.

  " Yes, dear. Go ahead. What is it?"

  " If it's any consolation to you ... I didn't like that house anyhow. It was black and big and ugly."

  Roxanne laughed.

  " Thanks, Emma. I'll keep that in mind."

  THE END

  Schizo Skeleton

  Chapter 1: The Undead

  My name is Reagan. I am uhm ... well, that's just it; I don't think I have an age anymore. I am dead. I died. I think it was an accident at work. I was operating in construction, and I know the guys warned me, but for some reason, I disregarded their voices of care and kept doing what I did.

  I was in my own world. I have always been a little odd. Somebody in the area had detected me previously with a special needs called schizoph ... I do not know. I forgot the word, but in any case, the doctor told me I had to take care whom to listen to. A lot of wrong messages were in my head that didn't coincide with reality.

  Therefore, it took place that I wasn't focusing. A big, steel bar was coming my way, and my coworkers were yelling that I should duck to avoid it.

  I didn't.

  BAM!!!

  The metal bar hit me in the head, precisely at a spot where it caused my instant death. I didn't feel anything after that. I was gone. But I had always learned that my spirit or soul would go to the afterlife. I don't know why it didn't. It was as if I was stuck or something. Maybe I had some unfinished business. Perhaps I still had an objective, an objective to accomplish before I would move on.

  I had lived a hard life. My mom and dad had split up, my brain would not leave me alone, with all the clashing ideas that participated in it, and I had been a social outcast for many years. I was just feeling lucky enough to have a job in building. In my spare time, I would go hunting, not just to have some additional food on the table but also as I loved bows and arrows.

  I had been searching for many years. My a
ccuracy knew no limits. Whenever I would see something to contend, I would just aim, release the bow, and watch the arrow hit the specific area I was pointing at, to the inches. It was an unusual skill I had come to treasure for many years, although to this day, I still do not know if there was some higher purpose to it. Perhaps that is another reason that I would not carry on: I didn't know what to do with my archery abilities. I had never felt the fulfilment I was looking for. Sure, I had won tournaments and added hunting trophies to the walls in my home, but it still didn't feel like it was enough.

  When I died on that building and construction site, I felt as if I was still there. It was odd. And when they brought my body to my tomb, I still really felt like I was in it, despite the fact that I could not really do anything.

  It took another month before I arose from the tomb, type of like having actually slept for a whole month. When I stood up, I looked at myself. The flesh on my bones had rotted. It had rotted away typically. All that was left of me, was a mere skeleton. It was intriguing and new. I chose there and then that I would find my purpose, that I would take my weapon and look for some kind of sense to my undead life, if you know what I mean.

  So there you have it. I am dead, but not actually; I am undead. I am a skeleton, searching for purpose and prepared to move on to the next phase of death, but only if I find what I am trying to find first.

  Chapter 2: All the Voices in My Head

  The voices are irritating. I have had them since I was a teenager. They were always there since then. They are voices that tell me I deserve nothing, that I should damage myself, sometimes even that I should kill myself. Since it's so hard to discriminate between a real voice and the voices in my head, I often end up doing things I regret later.

  I do not know where they come from. Maybe it's just how I am wired. But then, if they are all related to the brain, are they still there? I don't have a brain anymore! I am a skeleton!

  It doesn't make any sense to me, but I have to cope with them nevertheless. The biggest difficulty is to separate between the real and the fake ones. I am not always good at it. One time, I heard a voice that I swear was my father's voice, but when it told me to just kill a coworker, I knew it was just something that was in my head. At those moments, I understand that I do have some control over them and that I do recognize the insanity of everything when I am faced with something that is made up in my mind.

  Another time-- I will tell you an amusing childhood story-- I "mistakenly" did something bad, because one of the voices told me to do it.

  It was a teacher. His name was Mr. Monotone. Go figure. Was that his real name? Yes, it was. I still do not know why you would make education your profession with a name like that, but he did, and man, was he DULL!!!

  He would talk our ears off with his various stream of realities, the random uninteresting stuff that came out of his mouth, the words that entered into one ear and out another. It wasn't a delight to listen to him, specifically with that tone of voice. And that's a huge understatement.

  But that day was different than the other days. He had become so dull that he went to sleep throughout his own class. Perhaps he had not had enough sleep that night. He had big bags under his eyes, so he was most likely exhausted to begin with. If you ask me, he should have just called in sick, but he didn't. He was determined to finish the lesson.

  Poor teacher. He didn't deserve what I tried to do to him.

  There he was, having his head on his arms behind his desk. His lecture was midway over, and the majority of the kids either stopped taking notes or just started talking about after-school stuff.

  Then came the voice in my head. "Get your lunchbox," it said.

  " Okay," I said, not knowing what to do with it.

  " Now, open it up," the voice said.

  I opened it up.

  " Now, take the slices of cucumber and place them on Mr. Monotone's eyes. It will be amusing when he wakes up."

  I blindly obeyed, thinking that this was what had to be done. I took the pieces of cucumber and walked towards the instructor's desk. I was silent, but the other kids in class were very loud. When I leaned over and tried to put the cucumber on his eyes, he got up before I could.

  " What are you doing?" the instructor asked. "Go back to your seat immediately!"

  I ran back and dropped the cucumber pieces on the floor by accident. One of the girls, who had just returned from sharpening her pencil, stepped on it and slipped.

  Thud!

  She landed on the floor.

  " Whaaaah!" she wept.

  I don't know if I should go deeper into this story, but let me just keep it at the bottom line: I had to stay for a very long time after school. Detention had become more frequent anyway, but this time, I had to explain myself to the teacher, write 100 words on the chalkboard, and do 300 mathematics issues. He didn't believe me when I told him about the voices.

  It took hours for me to finish what he made me do.

  I dislike the voices. They're not my friends. They tell me to do wicked things and reach into the bottom of my soul to find corruption and wickedness. But I can't get rid of them. Hatred, disappointment, and doubt are the consequences of these voices, so ideally, I will live on without those.

  Chapter 3: The Stolen Thing

  One of the first things I did as a skeleton, now that I got my body of bones, is leaving the graveyard and walking to town. But then I hear the voices again. One of them is stronger and louder than all the other ones. It pierces through the marrow in my bones. I can't overlook it. It's kind of like a loud trumpet that blasts through my thick skull.

  " Get money," the voice says. "You need cash, tons of it."

  It makes sense. I mean, how else am I going to eat? I have no money, as I just originated from the grave. So I give up. I listen to the wicked voice within me.

  " Where do I find money?" I ask.

  " At the mayor's home," the voice claims. "He is loaded. He does not care if he misses a few bucks."

  " That's right," I say. "He probably earns one of the most in the entire town. I will go there and steal some of his money. Then I can eat."

  With that being said, I sneak through town, in the dark, and head towards the mayor's house. There is a back entrance, and I break it open, easily. I think it's better that the villagers don't see me. I think a skeleton would scare them off, no matter what I do.

  I sneak into the back room and come across a little vault.

  " Try the different combinations," the voice in my head says.

  So there I go: 3-5-7-9. Wrong

  Okay, maybe 4-6-8-9. Wrong.

  Then maybe it's 1-2-3-5. Wrong again.

  What am I going to do to learn which code to use? Let's see, maybe if I listen to it very carefully. I put my head next to the vault, only to find that I have no ears. Oh yes, I forgot.

  Then I just decide to quit. I can't figure out the code anyway. I hit the little vault in frustration.

  Thud!

  Hey, wait a minute. It moved.

  I pull with all my may and remove the box. I put it under my arm and leave the house. Good. Nobody sees me.

  I walk back through the streets and go to my home. It's still the way it was before. Obviously, no one has even touched it or tried to sell it. And until they do, I am just going to live here.

  I open the front door and look inside. Everything is still in place. The only difference is that all products and surfaces have gathered some dust. I sit down and try to burst the small vault. But then something hits me. I can't eat! I am a skeleton. Why did I even do this? To get money? I don't need money, as I do not need food! Ughh ... perhaps I'll take it back at some point.

  Chapter 4: The Destruction

  I sit there, disappointed that I did something wrong when I didn't even need it. The voices; they aren't stopping. They are still telling me what to do.

  " Aaaarrgghh! Go away!" I yell, feeling powerless to silence them.

  They will not disappear. They are in my head. I
yell out in mental strong pain, but I still hear them all over.

  " What do you want?!" I shout.

  " It's not what we want. It's what you want," a spooky voice tells me, controlling the others.

  I stop yelling and I sit still, listening intently. Maybe this time, the voice is right, so I better hear it out.

  " Do you know the wall around the town? Everybody hates that wall. It just shuts out the sunshine and the easy ways to get in and out of town. How about you take that vault you have, the heavy, steel vault, and toss it against the vulnerable points in the wall to break it? Then it will be safer and simpler to leave town."

  " That sounds like a sensible tip," I say aloud.

  " Well, what are you waiting for then? Take the vault and let's go!" the voice says.

  " Okay, okay, I'll go."

  That night, I go to the walls around the town, which are supposed to safeguard them from hostile trespassers. I take the vault box and tell myself, "Okay, here I go."

  BAM!

  I toss the vault against the wall. It fractures it a little, but it isn't reliable enough. I complain a little in myself as it didn't work. It's aggravating. I can't get it to break. I try again.

  Nothing.

  Then I sit down and contemplate what needs to be done. How am I going to break this wall? I need to admit that thinking without a brain is a lot harder. It takes me a long period of time to come up with another idea again.

  All of a sudden, I hear the same voice in my head again.

  " The coalminers," the voice says.

  " Coalminers? What about them?"

  "They have dynamite, you idiot," the voice answers.

  "Now, hold on a minute. Let's not begin calling each other names," I say.

 

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