My best friend moved from California to North Dakota when we were 19. After a few months of adjusting to a new place and making a few new friends, he got his first date!

Now, this is a Cali kid who was deep into his first North Dakota winter and was feeling a bit self-conscious about his lack of a tan. Easy fix, right? He went to the store and bought a tube of self tanning cream.

About 10 minutes before his date, he hits up the bathroom and applies a coat of the self tanner to his face - 5 minutes go by, nothing. So he applies more. Still, nothing. Finally, out of pure desperation, he applies damn near the entire bottle and takes off got the date.

The date, which took place in a dark and smoky bar, went fantastic! They instantly hit it off and had amazing chemistry. So much so that the date moved back to her place, where, so much chemistry was flowing that the lights never came on - straight to bed.

My friend wakes up early. The sun is up, but barely, and filtering in through the window shades basking the room in a warm, wholesome glow. The previous night had been a dream - best first date of his life, and he was positive she felt the same. Maybe… maaaaybe, love at first sight.

He lay there, in bed, and watched her sleep for a minute or 2 before reaching over and gently brushing a few strands of hair from her face - lightly touching her cheek with his fingers. Her eyes flutter open.

Good morning, he says, and asks her if she’d like to grab breakfast. To his dismay, her eyes go wide and she mumbles something about having things to do and VERY quickly gets rid of him - no kiss, nothing.

My friend is driving home, heartbroken and trying desperately to decipher what he could have possibly done to ruin the night… and then he sees his reflection in the rear view mirror - dark splotchy patches all over his face and neck making it appear as if he had rubbed shit all over his face.

He never heard from the girl again.

This is a bit of a long read but I wanted to write it so here you go

​

Hey, my name is Will, now however you decide to take this, that’s your choice. To be honest I’m not sure how I feel about this.

Anyways if you're reading this then you’re reading one if not the most horrifying moments of my life that I still can’t understand.

I’ve never been a firm believer in the supernatural, urban legends, or fairy tales. I grew up in a rather non religious house. But after what happened that weekend, I’m not sure what I believe and have been thinking about it pretty heavily ever since. But to give some context to the story: my friend Jane just recently lost her grandparents which she didn’t ever see often. But they gave her their lakeside log cabin which was a good 5 hour drive from our campus. She decided to check it out and stay there for a weekend, so she invited me and our other friend Tom, and do whatever the hell 3 college juniors would find to do there to stay entertained.

Tom and I rode our way to the cabin, Jane was already there, she was dropped off by her parents since her car was under repair. Nothing too out of the ordinary, I’ve realized just how in the middle of nowhere the cabin was. The place seemed to be at least an hour from any civilization. On the way there me and Tom had many different conversations, but we somehow managed to get on the topic of the paranormal and possessions. I don’t remember too much of that conversation, but it did end up talking about Doppelgängers.

By the time we got to the cabin it was one of those cliché dreary summer nights. It was probably about 11ish. And well, the cabin was surprisingly new looking and a lot bigger than I thought it would be. To be honest the place looked like a really great, calm and quiet place for a retirement. We just got settled in and headed to our rooms, however there were only 2 bedrooms in the cabin so I had the couch in the living room, which had this big window view to the balcony and lake.

Have you ever had that moment when it’s so quiet that you start to hear things you never noticed before, sounds that are more subtle or further away than the noises you normally hear but don’t bother. Well, that was me on that couch for who knows how long. I noticed every creak in the cabin, there was no ventilation in the cabin. And eventually started hearing the noises from the woods outside, since the window was open a crack. I wouldn’t say the couch was uncomfortable, I would say the eerie silence was a big factor why I couldn’t sleep since I’m used to the bustling streets of the suburban apartments, but something just didn’t feel right.

I kept looking out the window laying on the couch, all I could really see was the silhouettes of the woods, maybe a squirrel would skirt by the balcony or a bird would fly through the trees. But eventually I saw a doe walk onto the balcony, it was the most exciting thing I saw over the last few hours so of course my eyes focused on that. However the doe walked like it had a broken leg or something, and was incredibly thin, it was probably just a malnourished doe that got attacked, again I could only really see it’s silhouette so that’s all I could tell from it. The doe stood at the window for a long time considering how skittish deer are, maybe it smelled food or was wondering if I was a predator. Eventually the doe dashed off in it’s limp and after that I managed to fall asleep.

The next morning we all woke up drowsy, turns out everyone else had trouble sleeping. Jane said she just heard a lot of forest animals, however Tom didn’t seem to want to talk about it. The first half of the day went pretty slow, we played a couple card games, tried to get the tv in the living room to work, and a couple other things. In the afternoon we decided to get the canoe we had at the cabin and go fishing in the lake. We didn’t plan on eating any catches; we had plenty of food in the cabin. We didn’t have the most luck, a few small fish here and there. As it was getting late Jane ended up pulling up a shoe, which may not seem that weird, but it was a formal dress shoe with a sock still in it and didn’t seem worn down at all by the water. I also couldn’t help but notice it looked familiar.

We got back to the cabin and decided we were gonna hike tomorrow, we thought it’d be fun to explore. Sleep went relatively similar to the night before, wasn’t able to fall asleep quickly and was eerily quiet. Almost a repeat of the previous night, however the same doe came back. The same walk, the same skinny stature, yet, it still felt different. Not sure why it felt different or how, yet it did. After what seemed like an hour of looking at the doe while it looked right back, it felt like I wasn’t alone.

It was then I noticed I was hearing the most deranged footsteps in the living room. I remember those steps playing in my head vividly, it was unpredictable in both speed and heaviness, I would hear two quick soft taps then… bam! a sound almost like a person fell down the stairs. Once I started noticing the footsteps, I realized the doe was gone, nowhere to be seen. I tried to move but I couldn’t. After the suspense of the steps getting closer for a few seconds, I heard a scream, it was Jane.

After Jane started screaming, the feeling and sounds disappeared. I looked over to see what she was looking at, and it made me almost piss my pants. Every single candle in the kitchen was burning brightly, and in the middle was my other clothes on a scratched out symbol on the floor. That almost proves that there was something in the living room, and I wasn’t just hearing things. Me and Jane looked at each other with the look that said “we need to get Tom and get the hell out of here”. Neither of us believed what was happening, but we knew that we didn’t want to find out.

We rushed to Tom’s room to wake him up, but we wouldn’t get a response. So we let ourselves in and we found only things worse. It was the doe or, what I thought was a doe. It was some humanoid, abomination, with extremely long and spindly limbs. The thing was skinny enough it was contorted against its bones, a new kind of definition of skin and bones, and it had Tom's face. It didn’t even run towards us when it saw us, it stood up on its hind legs standing a good 8 and a half feet tall, and slowly and limped towards us. Every other step it took it looked like it broke a bone in its legs, the thing looked in utter pain.

Me and Jane ran out of the room. We didn’t know what to do since Tom’s car was the only way out and his key’s were obviously in that room. There was obviously no way we could outrun it since I've seen it run like a deer. So we found whatever we could use as some kind of weapon. After we found a couple knives and a baseball bat we heard Tom talking “guys what are you screaming about, it’s the middle of the night. You guys scared me to fall out of the bed, I think I broke my arm.” I never had a bigger chill down my spine. Tom wasn’t in the room, it was just that thing, by this point I’ve already started to break down, let alone Jane was in full tears.

We gained up the courage to try and get Tom's keys, we opened the door and, nothing. The window was busted open, Tom’s clothes were all over the floor and dried blood all over. We grabbed the keys and rushed to the car and locked the doors and thought. Is Tom still around here somewhere, is that thing still here, should we just leave and risk leaving Tom to die if he’s still alive here? We decided to try and look for him by driving the car around but, nothing. We decided to just leave at that point. Once we left the driveway the thing ran into the car, and we just kept driving. Eventually we got to the cities.

A few months after that a story popped up in the news about a town down the river reporting their water tasting weird, and they found a body floating in the water, Tom's body, or what was left of him. The police tried to list it off as a bear attack, or an unsolved murder. It has been years since that weekend, Jane went on to become a surgeon and we don’t really talk anymore. I can’t help but think about that weekend, that creature, Tom. I wonder how long that thing was replacing Tom, and when there were those candles and my clothes in the kitchen makes me think that maybe I was next. I don’t know where that thing came from or where it went, I’ve thought about Doppelgängers, Jinn, Wendigos, Skin walkers, and even the Rake. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever know what the answers to my questions are, and I think it might be better off to just forget it ever happened.

Thank you for reading my horror story. It’s my first one so sorry if it’s writing may be bad. English is my first and only language but I still suck at it. so sorry if there's bad grammar. the story is completely made up. I guess I should say my inspirations: the Mandela Catalogue, Are You Scared?, and maybe a few other things I can't think of.

In high school these kids would mess with me and my friends and they were all messed up in their own ways, there was:

Tom, the leader who’s nickname is switchblade

leah, Toms crush who’s nickname is butterfly

steve, a mentally handicapped big guy who’s nickname is moose

peter, although he was not long for this world he only joined to boost his reputation at school

cody, the closest thing that the group had to a Conscience or morality his nickname was deer

harris, a pyromaniac who loves killing, he held lots of secrets his nickname was butcher.

they began killing across puffinville and during their first killing of a man named Tony pandella where Tom carved his chest but then when Tom wrote “switchblade” with his switchblade sirens rang in the distance and Peter immediately ditched them as Steve gave chase but pete got away. After a few more killings Tom and Harris went to go find Peter and once they found his house Harris molested Peter and then set the house on fire. But the police saw the burning house and nearly caught them. Harris clearly only killed peter for the thrill of it but cody was frightened by the deteriorating mental state of Tom, Cody was never a fan of the killing. After realizing that they are pretty much able to kill whoever they want Leah tracked down her rapist ex and threw him in the lake killing him while Harris kills the jock mikey by crushing his head with a metal bat, Steve got bullied in middle school for his stupidity and he attacks his bully Nathan by hitting him in the face with a hammer 5 times. Tom was mad at all of them for it as they shouldnt kill people they know because the cops will be on them, rather they should kill known killers and rapists but Cody argues that would make them killer as Tom makes an Offer, “we track down that guy who raped you with a pen and you kill him.” cody was reluctant to accept but Steve insisted and they were best friends since childhood and Cody trusted him fully. That night they threw the man off his balcony and put a noose around his neck but the police were on them and both Leah and Tom managed to escape while cody was caught by the police. Tom got extremely mad and blamed Steve for insisting, Steve cracked back at him and Leah was dragged off by Harris where he molests her. Steve insisted that the result would have been the same if he didn’t interfere but Tom didnt have it and slits Steve’s throat as Leah walks away from Harris who then goes up to the roof and jerks off, there was a running joke that Harris never washed his hands after masturbating and this time he wore gloves but then took them off as Tom joked “just wash this time.” As Harris gave himself a handjob. Tom and Harris talked for a while contemplating what they should do as Cody was killed in prison, Tom wants to quit and leave this job while Harris wanted to keep killing until he died or got caught. They talked and talked and talked until morning where Harris claimed that he had received a visit from another being, talking about gods in our universe but as he yammered he falls off the roof which devastates Tom who immediately decides to keep doing the killings to please Harris when Leah tells Tom that Harris molested her but then he yells at her telling her that it’s crazy which freaked her her out as he collapsed onto the floor where she comforts him as he cries about all the friends he’s lost, they fell in love and had sex that night but as it went on Leah kills Tom. Leah got arrested and later died in prison but there were killings with their likeness afterwards.

this story is not true btw

“We are the Team Rationalists. I’m Manu, your host. Our aim is to prove again and again that ghosts do not exist. And, we have been proving it for the last few years. Today, we are here at an old house known as the ‘Haunted Den’. This is a 200-year old building.” The cameraman focused his camera on that old house. The broken windows, rotten doors, the walls with cracks and the broken roof tiles, had made the old house look like 400-year old. One could see some vines creeping inside the walls too.

“The people of this village say they hear weird sounds every night coming from this building. No one even dares to enter this street after the sun sets. As soon as we heard about this “haunted” place through an anonymous call, we rushed here. We will be entering now, really eager to meet this “ghost”.” As explaining, Manu opened the old creaking door and entered with his cameraman.

Manu and the cameraman slowly moved through the corridor, and then, they heard the sound of a woman weeping. Their hearts stopped beating for a second. Gathering courage, they peeked into the room from which the wails emanated. As they entered, the sound stopped, making them creeped out. Looking around, they saw no one. Suddenly, again the cries began along with the gush of the wind. They were startled for a moment. Then Manu went near the window and examined the rotted door.

“Ha ha ha… I can’t stop... laughing… Haha ha ha…” Manu chuckled. Few moments later, after regaining his composure he talked to the camera.

“As you can see here, termites have eaten and created lots of holes in this door. As a result, when the wind passes through those holes it makes the sound of a weeping woman. There is no ghost in this place.”
They inspected other rooms also, and gave logical explanations for the things happening there. After half an hour later, they came outside of that house and ended the live telecast. Manu turned around and saw that darkness had covered the entire village; neither street lights nor house lights.
“It seems the power is off. Thanks to our useless government.” He cursed as they stepped out on the street. As they walked a few steps in the glow of their mobile flash lights, Manu went numb looking around carefully. On both sides of the street, ruined houses were standing. Cold sweat formed on his forehead as he realized the situation.

“Quick! We have to leave this wretched place as soon as possible.” Manu yelled, running towards their car, and the cameraman followed. They opened the doors and almost jumped inside the car. Looking around, Manu tried to start the car. But the car was dead. It didn’t respond even after he tried a few more times.

“SHIT!!!...” The cameraman squealed, holding Manu’s arm in fear. There were a pair of eyes, glaring at them from outside of the door. The sound died in his throat, as Manu tried to scream. Then another pair of eyes appeared in front of the car; then another and another. There were tens of hundreds of ghosts surrounding the car. Glaring at Manu and the cameraman, they shrieked in rage, shattering the glasses of the car. The screams laced with terror let out by Manu and the cameraman were welcomed by the angry ghosts with ruthlessness. That was the end of the Team Rationalists.

In The Mid 2000's, I became a paranormal investigator in the Chicagoland area, experiencing and capturing some of the best forms of paranormal phenomena I have ever experienced. Our investigations were documented into reports that we have kept vaulted away until now. THESE ARE MY PARANORMAL FILES.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6mkH3ILFj8

As title says I need a good story to tell for about 5 minutes over a discord call (can be horror but not gory). I have a few I know very well and know how to tell them but they are either rather long, or require a certain type of audience. Was wondering if anyone can point me to a few links of stories that can be easily understood (no complicated warping stuff) with perhaps a bit of dread in them and easily told by one person. Many thanks in advance!

I thought I knew how trees grew. I thought I knew how nature worked. This was until I met an old homeless man named Leroy, whom I met at a local park. This is his story.....

I was on a 5-day hiking trip with 2 friends in a large local forest. Immediately I noticed something strange. Throughout the day of walking, I would hear the faint rustling of leaves behind us. ( I was bringing up the rear of the group.) As soon as I turned my head in an attempt to guess at what made the noises, it suddenly stopped. This happened a few more times and I finally decided to speak up about it to my friends.

"Guys I think I hear something," I said.

"I call BS," Jacob said.

"Nice try, you all most had me there," Allen joked.

"I'm serious I've been hearing it all morning," I said.

"Sorry bud," Jacob said, "It's not happening."

I left it at that. No sense in arguing over something I wasn't entirely sure I heard either. We walked for another 15 minutes or so and then I heard someone yelling. It was just the faintest sound but I could discern that it was out of elation and not of fear. Suddenly, all of the leaves rustle around us and the noise was loud this time. It was as if there were a million mice just out of sight moving all of the leaves.

"Well, I heard it that time," Allen said.

"No dip Sherlock," Jacob replied.

"I told you," I said.

We continued the rest of the first day without incident. As the sun got low in the sky we found a place to camp for the first day. In half an hour the tent was pitched, a fire was made, and food was sizzling. After eating a warm and delicious meal, we decided to tell some campfire stories. We were disappointed at the poor excuses of scary stories we made up to tell each other. Finally, Allen decided to tell us about the legend of the "tree hugger".

In summary, tree huggers are how trees grow. They are about 6 and 1/2 feet tall, with narrow shoulders, 4 muscular arms (one pair attached to the shoulder and one at the waist), a grotesque face that takes on many forms, and 2 legs with large forked feet attached which roll up into small knobs that aid in silent movement. They can walk into one tree and out of another, it is how they travel. For some reason, they have an innate desire to capture living things and "feed" them to trees. This was by far the least crappy story told that night and unsurprisingly was not invented by Allen.

It was an old Native American legend. By now the fire had burned down to embers and we turned in for the night. We woke up and had breakfast the next morning, and I was the one unlucky enough to be assigned the duty of getting water. The nearest water source was a 3-mile hike away. About one mile into the walk I heard the rustling of leaves again.

First to my right side, and then suddenly to my left. Needless to say, I was terrified to I stopped walking. Then the thumping started, it was faint at first, and sounded like something running. "Thump thump thump thump thump". Suddenly the sound switched sides again.

The thumping was closer and louder this time to the right. "Thump thump thump thump". All of a sudden I heard thumping right next to me on my left. "THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!" I whip my head around and time seems to slow. To my side, I see what looks to be a tree hugger leaping at me, both pairs of arms outstretched, I manage to spin my way out of the path of one side of arms.

His other 2 arms glance off of me. I spin around to face my opponent, I know I stand no chance of running. Time speeds up again, I quickly pull out my camp knife and brace myself for another charge. Seeing as I have a 9" knife in my hand, the tree hugger seems unsure of how to proceed. Then to my relief, it runs full speed into a tree, no trace is left of it. For a moment I let myself relish in the triumph of not dying.

I hear the same thumping right behind me now, and I feel my spine turn to ice. "The bastard teleported to a tree behind me," I thought. I try to turn but the beast slams into me, both arms wrapped around my body now. We both hit the ground hard, but the tree hugger wasted no time in standing and beginning the process of dragging me to a tree 30 feet away. I struggled against the pull and tried to break free of his arms. What little traction my hiking boots could provide was no match for the sheer surface area of his feet.

This gave me an idea. I stomped on one of its feet, he let out a roar and redoubled his efforts. His breath smelled like a forest after heavy rain. We reached the tree and I let out a scream as he pulled me into the tree. Once inside the tree hugger was nowhere to be found.

The space was tight but manageable. It was dark except for a small light above. I thought it was the way out so I shimmied my way up. This lasted for days, weeks even. I lost track of time.

Then I heard a muffled chainsaw. Moments later my whole world was shifted sideways and the tree I was entrapped in fell with a thud. Everything was dark after that for a while. I slept for some time. When I came to it was oddly warm, then it was hot, then scorching. I screamed in pain and begged to no one to make it stop.

Then suddenly... Nothingness. The next thing I know I wake up on this park bench. Go to my house, I realized a new family had moved in there. I knew then something was up and went to the library to use their computer. I found out I and my friends went missing in those woods and were pronounced dead. Who knows what got them. Obviously, I knew I had nothing left, a dead man cant own anything.

"And that's how I wound up here," said Leroy.

"That's a crazy story," I said, "I'm going to put it on Reddit."

Ok just to start off first this isn’t my full story so no credit to me.

So there was this camp councilor keeping control with all the kids and everything. But they were out by the campfire in the forest when one of the kids started to hear bells

The kid was confused and everyone had started to hear it. When the councilor started hearing the bells he took all the kids out of the campsite and in a cabin far from the campsite

He had told the kids that there was a church by the campsite because that was also what he had thought. Later on after he had stopped working there he found out that there was a KKK meeting right by the campsite that night.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

I went to McDonald and ordered a number 6 with extra dip and travis Scott burger then the Wario head killed me then I sued mcdonald The End

once there was a girl named Evie she liked most things but her favorite was camping her parents though were negligent they hit her for reasons she did not know of, things she did not do, etc.

one day her friends wanted to go camping with her she liked the idea so she accepted but her parents were a different story so the next best thing to do for her is to sneak out

she and her friends were having fun they were playing laughing and generally very enthusiastic later on they play truth and dare and tell campfire stories its 10:00

its midnight now everyone is getting ready to sleep they are in their tents while Evie decides to do off on her own to the nearby docks with her diary halfway there she sees some DO NOT SWIM and DANGER but she ignores it like any reckless teen, she sits on a boat writing her diary but shes so concentrated that she does not notice that the boat starts moving

she gets interrupted midway while writing her diary with a loud knocking noise she sees that she is in the center of the lagoon she is now scared she reaches for one of the oars but is stopped when a hand reaches out and grabs it from the water she goes and grabs the other one but to no avail and she hears the knock another final time when directly after this her boat capsizes

the next day her friends search for her nearby but only sees her body horribly mutilated and her diary near her written with her blood I DID KNOCK.

the end

if you see this and have a story similar to mine please comment it and ill take this down

thank you

So with the pandemic raging on and with experts agreeing camping is a safe enough social distancing activity that can be done with others, I've been interested in finding good "campfire stories" to share in the evenings. All my friends know I'm a big King fan, and I would like to introduce them to some of his short stories while we camp. Unfortunately I've only read three of his short story collections, focusing mostly on his novels (and I really only remember Skeleton Crew if we're being honest).

I think a good campfire story:

• is compelling and scary (obviously)
• can still be read/told after you've had a few beers
• is around 15-20 minutes long

I thought "The Raft" out of Skeleton Crew would be great to read but I recently timed myself reading it, and stopped after 35 minutes with 12 pages left to go. I may still try to cut some of King's asides and create a "campfire digest" version of it, but I'd rather keep an author's story intact if I can.

All that being said, what King stories would meet the above criteria? I'll also take non-King story suggestions if they're good, but I'm most interested in stories from King's Dominion.

So, I just got home from helping out with my daughter’s Girl Scout campout. My wife and her best friend are the Troop leaders, but neither are particularly “woodsy” girls, so I went to get the fire going, help make dinner, and teach the girls to make a dump cake in the Dutch oven.

While making dinner, my daughter reminisced about me telling a ghost story at a previous camping trip, which scared the living hell out of her other troop mates. The girls were intrigued and begged for some ghost stories. Over dessert, I told a few. Now, admittedly, I was on the spot, so I told “The Black Ribbon” and “Little Boy Blue”, and told them to true story of the Our Lady of the Angels School fire, in the late 50’s in Chicago. Every single one of these stories bombed. I mean, complete and total duds.

The last time I did this, the girls (from a different GS Troop) were scared out of their minds. Most of them couldn’t sleep at all that night. They were also in First Grade. Now, her new Troop is all Middle School-aged girls. Needless to say, my audience is quite a bit more mature, and they shredded the plot holes in my stories.

So, I stand before you (figuratively), begging for help. Link me your best stories. I MUST redeem myself. The next time these girls go camping, I want to leave them in such terror that they’ll never again doubt my abilities. The scarier the better. I have complete faith in my fellow Redditors!

Hey guys! Basically just what the title says!

As a kid, I went on a camping trip in 3rd grade with all of my classmates. The counselor told us a campfire story that I'm pretty sure just boiled down to a teenage girl noticing a floating pineapple in her room with a terrifying red smile, but when she turned the light on she realized it was her NSYNC poster?

​

It's super dumb, but I'm in desperate need of some nostalgia.

As long as I've lived (I'm only fifteen as of writing this, so not particularly long at all,) I've seen these little black creatures, I can only really describe them as humanoid but their shape can shift depending on what exactly they're trying to achieve.

And that's the emphasis. They aren't just hallucinations that appear occasionally, like black smudges sprinting through your peripheral view, it's like they're organized to drive me insane.

They're usually infrequent. Throughout my life they've usually manifestations of a bad omen. I've seen them days before my mother fell to schizophrenic insanity, they were very common before my dad left, and they always seemed to accompany a friend of mine who took her own life.

The earliest I can ever remember seeing one was around the age of six, where I slept in a room with it's door absent. They would pop their head in from the doorway. They were physically painful to look at. They'd appear for a second but only then leave.

They pop up usually randomly. I haven't yet dismissed them as my mind playing tricks on me or as a feign from the light simply because they don't exhibit those typical characteristics. They can pop up despite how bright the area is, no matter who I'm with, and no matter recent experience.

I've talked to preachers, they call them demons. Imps that are prodding me to come back to God. Therapists say that it's either my mind playing tricks on me or a coping mechanism, blaming it on those little bastards. Most interesting one I've heard is from a Wiccan friend of mine, claiming that the creature was plagued onto me because of something I've done in my past.

Seeing them puts me in a position like a deer in headlights. In situations when I'm walking, I almost fall over. When I'm alone, it's terrifying. I feel powerless. Up until this point, I've been trying to gain strength and courage enough to butt heads with the creatures. I don't know how to feel about that sentiment as of recently.

Last weekend, I saw one under my desk. I didn't show fear. I was angry. I wasn't going to let this wretch disease my life or the life of others any further. It stared at me. It seemed inquisitive. It peered at me as if it was prying for a reaction, but I simply refused. This is the first time I've ever heard it make a sound, and, thus why I wrote this.

It whispered. But the whisper definitely didn't come from it's location. It sounded like someone whispering in my ear; both at the same time, in fact. The voice was male but I could in no way trace it to anyone I know or have heard in real life. The mannerisms of speech hardly sounded human.

"Why? Why do you pretend?"

I froze in my bed, and jumped out of bed as fast as possible. The little black imp of a creature absconded to a place I'm incapable of even comprehending, let alone searching for.

Any help would be beyond appreciated. Is there a way to cleanse this hellion from my life? Is there any possible reason that it does what it does or why it's fixation is on me specifically?

Honestly, anything would help. Thank you so much..

Ok. So. This was by complete accident. I might be new to redit, but wow. Well, I got alot of stories to add to this community, so yeah........ hehehe.....

When I was in cub scouts, we used to do family camp outs and BBQs, usually it would end up with our scoutmaster telling us spooky and sometimes funny stories as we all huddled around the flickering lights.

He died last week of a heart attack. It was really shocking, and I'm going to miss him. I keep finding myself thinking of this one story he used to tell. If anyone can find the name of it, or a link to it, I would really appreciate it.

The story is about a young boy, who likes to collect moths and butterflies. He suffocates them in a jar and pins them to his wall. One day he finds a really beautiful, special moth. He catches it, kills it, and puts it on his display board with a pin in it. That night, he keeps waking up to see the moth in the darkness, still pinned to the board, but each time bigger, and each time bleeding. The next morning the boy's parents come to his room to find the boy missing, along with the moth, and the window wide open.

He always used to let us fill in what happened to him. I want to be able to retell that story at campfires, as a way to remember him. I know I could probably tell it on my own, but I want to make sure I do the story justice. Thank you guys in advance.

“If you go down to the woods today . . .”

A cold, sharp breeze blew in through the open window, its frozen teeth biting into his skin; bringing with it the wet, earthy scent of the nearby forest. It was getting late and Jack had been thinking of heading back home for a while. Though, surely one more beer couldn’t hurt. Jack and a small group stood around old Bill Smithers and listened skeptically as he spoke in a convicted tone about conspiracies and alien abductions. Jack knew that everything that came out of that greying man’s dry lips was a load balderdash, but he had no friends here - and didn’t plan to make any - so he observed the conversation with a desire to be entertained by the rubbish that was discussed. Except, as the topics changed, he had finished his third beer and had prepared to call it a night, Bill let out a sudden pause. He looked up directly into Jack’s eyes and said in his gruff, heavily accented voice, “ ‘Ay, Stratford,” “Yeah?” Jack responded in a mild state of confusion. Jack didn’t think that he knew he was even here, for he hadn’t looked at Jack all night as he stood near his table, sipping his beverage. “You ever, ya’ know, seen anything - out there in them woods?” For my whole three years out in the woods, chopping down trees for the village in exchange for money, I hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Why would I have? Overcast Forest was a lovely town, far away from the loud trucks and smoking factories of the city; isolated and comfortable, surrounded by dense woodland. It felt nice - and it was nice to Jack. “What? Like one of your so-called “Bigfoots”?” he responded hotly, his short temper flaring. This old loony was as ill-informed as a plank of wood and he wasn’t going to waste Jack’s time. He had to work early tomorrow and didn’t want to engage in conversation, as late as it already was. “No. . No, lad - far worse than tha’ . . .” It began to feel as though his brown eyes were staring into Jack’s soul. “What then?” he sighed, unamused with this childish discussion among grown men. “The Skinwalker,” he whispered. At the mention of that word, a chill crept down his spine. Outside the wind screamed like a maniacal ghost and the room seemed to get colder. He’d never heard that word before in his 18 years of life, but knew that it couldn’t mean anything good. Jack’s anger was lost due to shock. He needed to get home. It sounded as though the heavens above were about to open up and rain soon. “I - no, I . . . need to go sorry,” he replied lamely. Bill continued as though Jack hadn't spoken. “I’ve seen it! In them woods,” He glanced among his small gathering with wide eyes. His foul-smelling breath making Jack instantly pull away from him. “It roams the Four Corners of America in the shape of different animals. When I first laid eyes upon the damned thing on a hiking trip years ago, it was in the form of a wolf, right, and had a deeply evil presence. It looked at me with ‘em red-rimmed dark eyes and I knew that this ain't no ordinary wolf. I knew I’d seen something supernatural tha’ day. “Yeah, I don’t really care -” “The Navajo elders of this area say tha’ it’s a malevolent witch and that thousands of years ago, It cursed these very woods ‘ere. Its desire spellbound to the land: that whoever dies in the forest shall remain there - forever.” His last word hung in the air. “Shut up old man,” Jack said, his anger renewed. He pushed his empty beer glass to the bartender and shoved on past Bill. Why was I letting that crazy old man into my head? Why was I getting so creeped out, when I knew that that creature wasn’t even real? Jack thought. Was it?

After he got home, dripping wet from the sudden downpour, he changed into his nightwear and walked the area of his house, switching off lights and putting last night’s dishes into the sink. As he walked back up to his room, Jack stopped to pull the blinds down on the big window in the study. It displayed a decent view of the forest, which was now dark and shadowy as it was just after midnight. Lightning flashed violently above the tall branches, illuminating certain parts of the woods and momentarily streaking the inky black night sky with a thin fork of electricity every so often; the deep rumbling of the black clouds accompanying it. Jack suddenly got a headache, as a wave of uneasiness washed over him. After another strike of lightning and growl of thunder, he saw something. It was standing on the outskirts of the forest, not five meters away. Flash! He squinted in attempt to see it better. It was short, roughly above his knee in height and standing confidently on four strong legs. Another flash and it looked directly at him with its sinister black eyes rimmed with glowing red rings. The wolf’s thick, shaggy fur was as dark and black as the clouds. Jack flew upstairs, taking two stairs at a time and locked his door. He knew that it could have been any sort of wolf, but it just didn’t seem . . . normal. It roams the Four Corners of America in the shape of different animals. Bill’s words spun around in his head. It was surely not the “Navajo Witch” that Jack had seen outside his window, no - that was made up . . . but then again, that was no ordinary wolf. He slid into bed, folding the crisp white sheets over his cold body. Jack switched off his lamp and closed his eyes, darkness filling his vision as he waited for the inevitable - sleep.

He woke up the next morning, shattered fragments of strange dreams slowly fading from his memory. He got out of bed and after getting changed into his red farmer’s shirt and blue overalls, he grabbed his trusty axe and headed out the back door. As he walked across the damp lawn, Jack remembered where that wolf had stood and, quite suddenly, a spider web of memories and fears leaked into his mind. He pushed the thoughts aside and found the familiar dirt path, walking along it into the tall, thick trees that stood like giants overhead. Overcast Forest was a good place - a safe place, surely. Nothing bad had happened there. Well apart from the hushed fact that about half a dozen or so people had ventured into the woods awhile back - and not come out, their bodies were never found. Did they fall victim to the Skinwalker’s curse? Jack ruminated, but immediately fought away the intrusive thought. He walked for awhile until he found a small, though adequate tree that would do well for the fire that night. Father had wanted to make a large bonfire, to celebrate his only son’s 18th birthday. After chopping down the tree and dragging it onto the path, Jack left it there and walked off the path and down through the thick bush, in search of another good tree to chop, figuring some better trees may be found deeper in the woods. Soon, he came across an inky black, thin stream that streaked through the trees like a dark snake. Jack stalked across the dirt river bank and listened to the swish of the leaves in the wind and the rush of the stream. As he trudged along the bank, he began to be lost in thought, as if the water and the environment around him soothed him so much to make his mind go numb. He only stopped walking when of a sudden heard a loud, shrill scream that chilled him to his core. It was as obnoxious and deafening as a fire alarm and stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He stood upon a soft part of the dirt bank. “What in the seven hells . . .” Jack looked around, curious as to exactly what kind of animal could let loose a scream of that sort. All of a sudden, the soft ground he stood upon opened wide like a mouth, as if the Earth wanted ravenously to devour him. His legs slipped inside the moist ground but no more of him was able to slip through as his waist could not fit through the hole. He kicked and trashed and twisted his hips in hope of escape, but this only made his situation worse, for the earth broke apart as he moved and turned eventually Jack Stratford fell down into the darkness of the earth. The hole he had been stuck in, let out into a some-what wider area with a wet floor. Jack hit it hard as the breath was pushed out of his lungs. After a while, he and stood himself up, brushing the dirt off of him. Jack looked up and saw the opening of the mouth high above him, a pathetic shard of light piercing the darkness of this small dirt cavern. Jack was in spite of himself - he knew there was no escape from this. No one would find him. He leaned back and rested against the side of the cavern, the rich smell of fresh soil and wet mud invading his nostrils as tears of despair slid down his cheeks. All of a sudden the ground began to tremble as the wall behind him moved and shifted and pulsed, eventually breaking open to admit brown tree roots to shoot through madly. They grasped and grabbed onto anything in their way. Three roots already pinned Jack’s right arm to the wall and more grasped upon his frailing, struggling body. They moved with the speed and randomness of a live wire. Jack cried out in utter horror as the hole up above began to close over, the dirt moving and climbing upon itself unnaturally to seal up the gap. More roots binded him to the wall, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Jack was unable to move anymore, his whole body groped in heavy roots. A thick root tightened and strangled itself around Jack’s throat, cutting his voice off mid-scream and turning his face purple. Dirt began to pour in from the walls, like a damn might if it had just ruptured, and closed over his feet, his waist, his chest. It was like sand falling down an hourglass - with Jack trapped at the bottom. Eventually, the whole dark cavern filled with dirt. He tried to cry out, but was unable to and regretted opening his mouth instantly, for dirt flooded into it making him choke. The soil kept coming and coming from everywhere; sliding into his ears, forcing him to close his dirt caked eyes; until not a single bit of space was left. The ground had swallowed him up and it was as if Jack and the small cavern had never been there at all.

Death happily claimed him as the last breath of life he had left slipped through his lips and his soul left his body. Though, for some reason, something was holding his soul back from leaving this realm. He didn’t quite know what it was. He felt as though he was supernaturally bound to the ground. In fact, Jack began to change appearance entirely. Jack’s blood became sap; his flesh turned into dry bark; his limbs grew into thick branches; his bones changed into wood and his red hair pushed out into autumn coloured leaves that swayed in the sinister breeze. He had become the one thing he was paid to kill. For eternity, his bark peels and his wood rots; his leaves fall off and regrow. He tries to speak, but all that meets the listener would be a whisper of wind the the woods. This is what he has become - and this is what he will be always. Jack will pay his penance to the unforgiving Mother Nature forever. His skin-clad body is long deceased and decomposed beneath the ground, yet his soul shall never depart to the after-life. He is still alive, though not at all human. He is one with the Earth.

Back in 1942 an inmate called John was put into prison for life for murder because he found his wife cheating and killed the man called Kyle with her but he only had two arms and he made two knives to move a round CLICK CLICK SLIDE one day he decided to break out so he did he slide his way to the yard and started digging his way out under the fence nobody saw him because it was night and he slid under the prison bars later after a lot of digging he broke out and started to make his way to his wives house so he CLICKED CLICK and SLIDED it wasn’t that far a way so he got there by 6 in the morning as he slid in the window somehow and and heard complete silence he made his way up the stairs and went into his ex wife’s room he SLID and CLICKED his way to her and STABED her right in the heart but he wasn’t done he was gonna kill her daughter who she had with Kyle he CLICKED and SLID into the girls room but then he realised that they had two daughters and they were in bunk beds so SLID and he stabed one of them he tried to get up the lader to the little girls bed but failed so he CLICKED CLICKED SLIDED away that morning I woke up I was terrified so I ran away from home and now I live a life like no others a mad murder

In 1800s London there was a thing that called its self springheeled Jack. Some say he was a man but I'm not so sure. He would leap from rooftop to rooftop and murdering anyone he saw. This went on for years until he disappeared. I bet you're wondering how i know he wasn't a man, well darlings, that's cos he's me

People dying, Children crying,

CONCENTRATE CONCENTRATE

people dying, Children crying,

CONCENTRATE CONCENTRATE

...

Stick a FORK In your back, Feel the blood flowing down

Stick a KNIFE in your neck, Feel the ooze flowing down

Stick a SPOON In your head, Feel the brains flowing down

..

CONCENTRATE CONCENTRATE

People dying, Children crying

CONCENTRATE CONCENTRATE

I met this girl at a party once. She took a pack of Swisher Sweets out of her purse, and smoked it.

A man is driving down a desert road on a business trip he has not seen another car for hours. When his car breaks down near a monastery so he knock on the wooden door of the monastery and a monk answers. The man tells the monk what happened and the monks are very understanding they let the man sleep there, they feed him and they even fix his car. But during the night the man hears a strange sound too strange too describe. It sounds like it is coming from deep within the old stone walls of the monastery. In the morning he asks one of the monks what the sound was but the monk said. “We cannot tell you you’re not a monk” so the man says thank to all the monks and leaves feeling very grateful but still wondering what the sound was. Two years later the man is traveling on the same road when his car breaks down at the same spot. Again he tells the monks what happens and they let him sleep there, they feed him and they even fix his car. During the night again he hears that sound again he looks out his window and sees the monks standing around his car doing a strange ritual. In the morning he asks one of the monks what the sound was but he simply replies “we cannot tell you you’re not a monk”. So the man says thank you to the monks and leaves feeling grateful still but wondering even more what the sound was. Two years later he is traveling on the same road when his car breaks down again. He asks the monks for help and they feed him, they let him sleep there, and they even fix his car. During the night he stills hears that sound. In the morning he asks one of the monks what the sound was but he still replies “we cannot tell you’re not a monk” so the man asks “what do I have to do to become a monk” the monk then replies “you must count every blade of grass on every field on earth then you must count every grain of sand on every beach on earth and you must make this journey on foot”. So the man leaves the monastery and begins his journey. Thirty-four years later and the man returns to the monastery and tells the monks the sacred numbers and the monks tell him he is now a monk. The man asks what the sound was and the monks lead him to a dark room with a trapdoor in the center the monks open the trapdoor and within Is a spiral staircase that takes hours to go down. Once at the bottom they are in an ancient room with a wooden door on the wall. One of the monks pulls a wooden key out of his robe and unlocks and opens the door. The door opens into another room where there is a door made of ruby the monk takes a ruby key and opens the door. The next door is a door made of emerald and the monk opens it with an emerald key. The next door is made of diamond and the monk opens it with a key made of diamond. The next door is a door made with a material the man cannot describe and the door has strange murals drawn on it the monk takes a key made of that same material and opens the door and the man is amazed to see the source of that strange sound Do you want me to tell you. I cannot tell you you’re not a monk

Basic concept is

Egyptian boy only knows how to play the flute, stumbles apon the Egyptian Princess garden. He climbs a tree and plays flute for her every day super softly so she cant hear. Eventually falls in love with princess, is distraught cus she he cant be with her cus hes a peasant and shes a princess. Heard a myth about a sorcerer in an oasis who can change your soul. Travels to the oasis, old man says he can change his song but he must sacrifice something, the boy produces his flute.

Fast forward back to the Egyptian city, its under seige. The king tells that anyone who can generalize my troops to win the battle can have whatever they like. Sees in the distance on the other side of the city not under seige, a man in dark clad armour riding a black horse. The man arrives at the city and the king says hey can you help, the man generalizes the troops and goes into battle and wins the war. What do you want asks the king, i want to marry your daughter. Princess says i cant marry you im in love with the boy who plays flute for me every day, im sorry. The man says i see and gets on his horse and rides into the desert.

Didnt really want to go full sicko mode on detail, just the concept. If youv heard this story or anything like it, please id like to hear. rock on.

Backstory: For scouts we went camping in the back of a dairy owned by a guy in our ward. He was kind enough to let us camp in the mountains of the dairy. This land is in wolf country. Our leader sat us all down around the fire after playing about and said in a very serious voice, "Now, Mr. BROWN (that's called foreshadowing) was kind enough to let us camp here. But he told me I had to tell you this story for safety reasons." Just to clarify he told this to us VERY firmly and convinced a group of 12 year olds about as well as you can. Now, to the story...

​

"In this valley (the one we where camping in) there once lived two families. They where good friends. The two families where the Browns and the Smiths. One day the Smith family decided to visit the Browns. They talked and talked and had a good time until the party was over. The mother of the Browns family decided to stay back and help clean up while the boys and their father walked home. As they walked, they got the feeling they where being watched and they could swear they heard slight rustlings. All of them ignoring it and just thinking it was a small animal, they kept walking.

​

They reached a clearing (the one we where currently sitting) and then they heard exactly what they had been dreading. They heard the thundering of paws and the snarling only a wolf can produce. The father grabbed his sons by their shirts and ran as fast as he could. He only managed to get to a large tree before the wolf got his leg (the tree was at the end of the clearing and very close to where the tents where.) He threw the boys in the tree and tried to climb it himself, but the wolf pulled him into the now dark clearing. The boys sat in the tree listening to their dad screaming and his breath slowing until he forced a sentence,"stay *wheeze* there unti-ii-..." All though he had not finished the phrase they both understood and stood quiet as they heard him being dragged into the underbrush.

​

In the morning the boys looked at the ground where their dad had been and saw nothing but red-brown stains. They got down from the tree as soon as they felt it safe and booked it until they got to their house. Their mom was sitting inside. She had told officers about them being missing. She noticed the lack of her husband and asked. They told the story and the funeral was held soon.

​

About half a century later, the boys have grown, and have kids of their own. They are still good friends with the Smiths and are staying at their mothers house for the week to celebrate Christmas. They where having a party at the Smiths home. The party ended and the mom stayed back to help clean up. The two boys, now men, decided to walk back with their kids to the mother's home. As they walked, they got the feeling they where being watched and they could swear they heard slight rustlings. All of them ignoring it and just thinking it was a small animal, they kept walking.

​

They felt as if they where being watched and felt as if they have been here before and had this happening. They reached a clearing and saw tree at the end of it and it hit them what was happening. They grabbed their kids and ran. The horribly familiar sound of paws hitting snow thundered through the air. They yeeted (not actual term used) their children into the tree and youngest got in to the tree first. As the older one climbed in the wolf hit his leg with a large WHAMM and began pulling. The wolf pulled and pulled his leg... just like I am yours!"

Samantha never had it easy in life, her parents died when she was young, and everyday just seemed to worsen, after adopted parents kicked her out as soon as she turned off legal age. At least she was able to get a cheap apartment, and a job that paid well enough. And today was like any other.

The open the door to her one bedroom apartment, around 2:43 am, exhausted. After having to work over time at the gas station because of Tanya, showed up for her shift, again, making Samantha late for her blind online date, which turned out to be a catfish, she was disappointed his profile picture was cute. On top of that, on her way home, her used, used, car broke down, and she somehow forgot to grab her phone of the kitchen counter before leaving for her date, forcing her to walk over a mile home, in high heels and a Scarlett dress that was too high up the thigh for her liking, but what person wouldn't be tired after a day like that.

She placed her purse on the little table that sat near the door, kicked her heels off, and swiftly moved over to her hand-me-down couch, flopped down and turned on the tv, she didn't want to turn on the lights, as to not wake her friend and roommate. At this point she didn't care if she got another noise complainant or not, she was simply too tired to care about it, that's when she notice something odd. The truth was, she noticed something that was suppose to be there, and her apartment was quiet, too quiet. She got up, turned off the tv, and listened, she couldn't hear her roommate's usual snoring. She first checked their bedroom, but their bed was empty, she went back into the living room and turned on the light, beginning to panic. She felt a cold shiver up her spine, then she notice the window in the kitchen was open. She moved around the counter top, to go close the window, guessing that he went down the fire escape and out on a walk, or maybe went to one of the night shops, or…

She had stepped in a puddle of a crimson liquid. She stood, horrified. And slowly turned to noticed a trail, which is could only assume came from her and her friend's room. She froze in fear worrying what happened and what to do next. A strange but familiar sound, coming from not to far from behind, that almost sounded like rhythmic purring of a machine. She turned slowly, and was met with what she knew attacked her friend, and could very well be what ends her life.

"W-W-Who are you?" She stammered, feeling the burning sensation of salty tear forming in her eyes.

"My, my, it seems you have forgotten me already deary," it cackled in a tone that seem to sound like it was singing a nursery rhyme. "Haven't you forgotten what you saw happen to your, poor, departed, mommy and daddy already? Most fun I ever had!"

"What are you?" She said, now letting the tears flow freely.

"Oh my, why, what a rude question to ask, you already know what I am, but I might as well tell you again. My dear, dear, samantha, I'M THE MOST WORST LIVING NIGHTMARE YOU'VE EVER ENCOUNTER!"

Samantha screamed, as that "thing" that had invaded her home sweet home, attacked her as the clock the microwave read 3:01 am.

I am on mobile and this is my first time posting and im only in 6th grade. This is fictional story.

I was visting a friend in the country. when I got there saw my friends parents leaving i waved... no response and they spead off. It was weird but I shrugged it off because they have been fighting a lot lately so I walked in. When I got in it was mostly empty only 7 statues were there instead the normal 20 they were very different they looked like monster's. They looked broken but I could not tell if that was extra design,all looked broke but one it had long arms with giant claws or tallons covering its face while it was curled up on a corner. I ignored it and went down stairs were I found my friend [ f is for friend ] I cracked open a coke and sat on the couch but when I went in the storge room to grab a coke i saw all the usual statchues that were up stairs a few months ago all 20. I asked F if he knew why his parents put the statchues in the storage room and he said his parents moved a month ago. Than I asked about the statchues that were up stairs and the people who were here when i arrived. He said " we have all the statchues down here and nobody has been here in a while." Than i realised that they were agents of some kind they did have a black no license plate volks wagon with a logo of some kind or were they robbers who gave instead of taking thats when i heard a thud from upstairs and a sharter upstairs so we grabed our airsoft rifels to scare off any burglary going on. When we got up stairs 6 of the statues are destroyed. And the last was missing the weird one in the corner i heard my friend screem the bloody statue was standing its face was horrorble it rushed down the hall and tried to stab\claw us to death we doged and we shot it to peaces. We heard thuds heading for us from the exhibit room wich we never checked. We ran to the attic and locked the door and lach we thought we were safe but than i heard another thud right behind me it stabed me and lifted me up my friend hit it with a pipe breaking it in half. I grabed the first aid box and pached the wound. Luckly it only hit skin and flesh not bone or organs. My friend called his uncle who was ex miltary.

ONE HOUR LATER.

We heard a knock it was loud we heard thuds silence out of nowhere we here " OPEN FIRE " thousand gun shots and glass breaking thats when we heard it's ok to come out i open the latch and open the door but F pushed me and shut it that's not my uncle. Part two coming soon. It's been two days we have trued to leave we just ran out of food so we started to look around to find somthing. We found a old toy chest but when i opened it it lead to a old military box with a weird code lock that had been destroyed by a shard of a statue. We opended it and found a old ww1 vetran cantien that was leaking a weird supstance that looked like a weird orangeish but quickly turned grey. There was also a weird jar with a weird orange butter like supstince. We opened the weird jar labled the stress ball but it moved we jumped and grabed the lead pipe and hid we heard a baby giggle when we looked it was the Orange supstance in the form of a small baby that looked like it was drawn by a toddler i approached it and poked it it started to giggle again suddenly i felt a wave of happiness and relief it was strange it was like when it was in my presence i had no angsoity. I picked it up and put in the weird box but than i seen that the whole floor was filled to ankle hight with the grey warter. But how the container could not even hold more than 18.9 fl oz. So how fid it fill the whole room to ankle hight. I put the cap back on. But than my friend asked, " what about the warter" just than we bothed looked in the dirction of the latched door.we opened the door and let all the warter but than i seen a weird statue that was penut shaped just staring at a old man with no eyes the smell of marinua flooded the attic. Than the man replied , " did you find it,( the statue just stairs) than find it that soldier cant betraye us than hide our target". As he said that he looked at us so we jumped back and locked the lachet. We both hid and started to try to find a weapon when we heard " HELP HELP AHHHhhh" thats when we heard a slush hit the ground. Thats when we heard a knock at the door it was my parents i did not heastate at all. I ran out the attic girpping the lead pipe and went and ran to the door and ran out shuving my parents back saying GET HELP before running back in and locking the door and snuck around to the attic were the door was destroyed and standing there was my friend with a mask on he charged at me thats when i heard a giggle thats when i relised creatchure has been on my back. It jumped on my friend and i think hugged him. The mask fell of him and he collapsed i picked him up and took him to his room and locked his door. I heard him say out of nowhere said " look behind you but in the reflection i seen a weird hell dog like statue so i swung behind myself and hit the statue breaking it's head off. To be counted let us know if you liked it [ edit ] i also have a youtube channel here is a link jeffrey force 4092537

By: James G. Boswell

“The problem with people is that we’re only human,” Jenna said as she wrote arithmetic formulas on the chalkboard. “People make decisions for emotional reasons, then justify them later with logic. We’ve always been this way. Human nature never changes.”

“I thought this was math class, professor” said a voice behind her. “Not psychology.”

“Or philosophy,” added another.

Jenna finished drawing the last symbol, then whirled around to face her students in the small lecture hall.

“You’re right, Joe, this isn’t psychology class. Nor is it philosophy, Chloe. It’s a math class, a class about number theory, to be precise.”

She continued, “Number theory lets us use a small amount of data to determine the outcome of events. It does this by showing us patterns in nature we wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. This means it’s relevant in many contexts, not only math. That’s because emotions lead to behavior, and emotions themselves follow a pattern as well. As a result, even complex human behaviors can be predictable with number theory.”

One student scoffed and she raised her hand.

Jenna said, “Yes, Susan, I know you’re skeptical. But the data’s there, if you know where to look. We’ll discuss this as we review the work of Max Cohen, a brilliant mathematician from here in New York. I had the privilege of knowing him when I was a child.

Another student said, “Didn’t you get a lot of his research published for him?”

“That’s correct, Horatio. He died before he could publish any of it himself. But he shared much of it with me while he was alive, though I was far too young to understand it. When I became a math professor here at NYU, I had his work published to honor his memory and to share his insights. He’s now considered one of the leading minds in number theory.”

Horatio said, “I heard he was also completely nuts.”

Frowning, Jenna said, “Well, that’s how he’s portrayed in the documentary about his life, ‘Pi’ by Darren Aronofsky. But, he was still a pioneer and an inspiration, regardless of his personal demons.”

Jenna sat on a park bench next to a large oak tree with leaves of various colors. Overcast skies created an atmosphere of sullen gloominess. An errant wind gust made her shudder.

She reached into her pocket and took out a burned piece of paper, of which there remained only the corner. Written on it in thick, heavy pen strokes were the digits “941,” then an indiscernible line on the charred edge.

“I remember the game we played when I was a kid, Max,” she said to herself. “You’d be sitting right where I am now. I’d give you the most complex math problems I could think of, and you’d solve them in your head in an instant. You were always right, always… until that last day…”

A tear rolled down her cheek and she choked up.

“I remember the day I found your body. You’d left your door open and I went into your apartment even though I knew I shouldn’t. I saw you there on the floor with this burned piece of paper laying next to you. I had no idea what it was then. I still don’t.”

She looked down and stared at the digits.

“I know you were hiding this, Max. I know it scared you. But whatever it is, the world needs to know about it. I’m going to find out what it means.”

Jenna flipped the light switch on in her apartment’s living room. Metal shelves filled with computers, meters, cords, tubes, and wires lined the walls. A wooden desk with a computer monitor, a keyboard, and a small chalkboard with a piece of chalk sat next to the window. She walked over and stroked the top of the monitor, saying, “Hello Proclus, my old friend.”

She sat down at the desk and wrote the numbers “941” on her chalkboard, then pressed a big green button next to the monitor. The screen lit up, as did several small blinking lights on the hardware surrounding her. The room came alive with an electric hum and a high-pitched whine. Jenna began punching the keys on the keyboard at a rapid-fire pace. Equations and formulas flashed across the screen.

She became so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice as a hand reached out from behind her. When it tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped and cried out in alarm. She looked and saw a short, grey-haired old woman standing there, smiling.

“Mom, you scared me! What are you doing here?

Her mother, Suki, said, “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer. Nobody opened the door when I knocked, either. I heard someone inside, clacking away at the keyboard, so I used the key you gave me to let myself in.”

“Mom, you can’t just come into my apartment whenever you want.”

“I know, sweetie, but I worry about you. You haven’t returned my calls in days.”

Jenna sighed and hung her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so caught up in my work that I haven’t had time for anything else,” she said.

Suki glanced around the room and said, “It certainly appears that way. Have you been eating? You look so skinny.”

“Mom, I really need to get back to work. I’ll call you this weekend, I promise.”

With a look of doubt, Suki shrugged and said, “Alright.”

Jenna listened as Suki left her apartment, then returned to her work.

She continued working as the sunlight coming through the window faded into darkness, then returned as the light of dawn. Finally, she picked up the piece of chalk once more. Her hand shaking, she added two more digits at the end of the number. It now read “94143.”

A peculiar odor like burning metal caught her attention. She looked up with surprise and dismay as she saw smoke pouring out of Proclus’s hard drive.

Before she could react, she felt a sharp pain behind her right eye as if someone had stabbed her brain with an icepick. She cried out and doubled over as the vein on her right temple swelled and throbbed. She whimpered for a moment and then lost consciousness.

Jenna sat on the exam table in the cold doctor’s office. Bright fluorescent lights scorched her eyes. A doctor in a white coat sat across from her in a swivel chair.

“What you’re describing sounds like a cluster headache,” said the doctor. “I’ll prescribe you some sumatriptan. It’ll relieve the painful symptoms, but it won’t get you high.”

Jenna scoffed and said, “That’s fine, Dr. Stephens. I’m not some junkie looking for a fix.”

Stephens smirked and said, “Good.”

Then she opened a drawer next to her and took out a prescription pad and a pen. As she began to write, she said, “Has anyone in your family ever had migraines or cluster headaches?”

“No, but I did know someone who had them; my old math teacher and mentor, Max. His headaches were so bad that he had to inject himself with a painkiller whenever they started.”

“Max? Do you mean Max Cohen, the mathematician?”

“Yes, you knew him?”

“No, but I studied his work in statistics class when I was in college. I knew he was from here in New York. Some of his ideas were pretty weird.”

Jenna shrugged and said, “I suppose so.”

“It’s terrible what happened to him… his mental breakdown.”

Jenna furrowed her brow and said, “Yes, he was very troubled, but he was a good man. And brilliant.”

“I’d say ‘troubled’ is putting it mildly. I can’t imagine what would compel someone to take a power drill to their own head.”

Jenna hesitated for a moment, then said, “Can you just give me the prescription?”

Stephens looked surprised and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

She tore the piece of paper off the pad and held it out. As Jenna reached for it, a slimy, purple tentacle shot out from Stephens’s coat sleeve and wrapped around Jenna’s arm. She screamed and tried to pull away.

Stephens opened her mouth. It opened wider and wider until the tendons in her jaw snapped. Then, her teeth fell to the floor. Inch-long, needle-like mandibles pushed out through the sockets in her gums.

Jenna stared inside the creature’s gaping maw and saw an image of a starry nighttime sky. She screamed again, louder.

Jenna looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had a harried expression and her hair was greasy and unkempt. Large purple bags hung under her eyes. Sighing, she turned the cold-water knob.

As the water flowed from the faucet, she reached into her pocket and took out two pill bottles. She placed one on the sink and held the other up to look at it. The label said, “Sumatriptan. 50mg. For migraine relief. Prescribed by Dr. Renee Stephens, general practitioner.”

She twisted the bottle open and poured a handful of the colorful capsules into her palm. She shoved them into her mouth, then scooped some water from the faucet into her mouth and swallowed them.

She picked up the other pill bottle and looked at its label. It said, “Promazine, 80 mg, Antipsychotic, Prescribed by Dr. Carla James, psychiatrist.”

Sighing once more, she twisted the bottle open and took out a single pill. She held the rectangular orange bar in front of her face and stared at it. After a moment of hesitation, she placed it on her tongue. Then she scooped some more water into her mouth and swallowed it as well.

Exiting the bathroom, she walked down a long hallway and stopped at a metal door. On the wall next to the door was a rectangular grey box with a small red light. She pressed her university employee badge against the box and the light turned from red to green. Then she turned the handle and slid inside without making a sound.

The room contained computer servers that extended all the way back to the far wall. It emanated a sense of sterile solemnity, and Jenna felt as if she was at the altar of some nameless machine god.

She bowed her head with reverence and hurried over to a nearby desk. Upon it sat a computer monitor and a keyboard as well as a pen and a pad of notepaper. Next to the notepad sat a small, gold-painted wooden abacus with an inscribed message on its base. It said, “The Professor Rebecca D. Katz Golden Abacus Award. Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences at New York University.”

She took the pen and wrote “94143” on the notepad. Then she began typing on the keyboard with quiet urgency and let the hours pass, unnoticed.

She blinked and found herself floating in an oppressive dark void. Vast emptiness surrounded her. Utter silence encapsulated her.

Several round shapes came into view. Several small spinning spheres of various sizes and colors whirling around a large yellow ball. She realized she was looking at the solar system, and that she was flying closer and closer to it. To her horror, a giant, disembodied maw with long, sharp mandibles appeared nearby. It then began pursuing her through space. Panicking, she willed herself to fly away from it, and it chased her until she came too close to the sun. The heat burned her skin and she screamed in pain.

She opened her eyes and looked around, disoriented. Bright orange flames engulfed the servers around her, and smoke filled the room. Random numbers flickered across the monitor screen, and the keyboard had melted. The smell of burning metal hung heavy in the air. She coughed and gagged.

She looked down at the notepad and saw that there were two more digits at the end of the figure, though she didn’t remember writing them. The number was now, “9414324.” Ink covered her hand and the pen lay snapped in half next to the notepad. She grabbed the gold-painted abacus, then escaped through the door.

Suki wiped tears away from her eyes as she walked down the hallway toward Jenna’s apartment. In front of her were two police officers and the building manager.

“How long did you say it had been since your daughter last contacted you?” asked Officer Smith.

“Four weeks,” Suki said, her lip quivering. “I’ve been by several times. Each time I opened the door with my key, but the chain lock was always on so I couldn’t get in. I called out Jenna’s name, but no one ever responded.”

“Any idea why she would she disappear like that?” asked Officer Jones.

“I… I don’t know.”

They stopped in front of a door with the numbers “2332” painted on it.

“Here we are,” said the apartment manager, Ralph.

Smith pounded on the door and said, “This is the police. We’re performing a wellness check on the occupant of this apartment. Please open the door.”

Suki said, “Jenna? Jenna, it’s your mom. I’m here with the police. I’m so worried about you. Please open the door!”

Several moments passed with no response. Jones nodded at Ralph, who then took a ring of keys out of his pocket. He used one to unlock the deadbolt and pushed against the door, but it didn’t budge. He shrugged at the officers and said, “Something’s blocking it.”

The officers took turns slamming their shoulders against the door until it gave way. When the door opened, they saw that someone had propped a bookshelf full of books up against it. The bookshelf now lay toppled over with several books scattered all over the ground. Laying among them was “Elements” by Euclid.

Shuffling into the apartment, they looked around in horrified awe. Chalk-written numbers, equations, and formulas covered every surface. All the walls, floors, and ceilings as well as cabinetry and furniture. Used up chalk numbs littered the ground. Suki gasped and starting crying. Ralph’s jaw dropped. The officers looked at each other and unholstered their guns.

“This is the police!” said Smith. “We’re performing a wellness check. Please respond.”

Silence.

Smith edged down the hallway, looking into each of the rooms in the apartment as she went. She went through the doorway to the living room at the end of the hall and disappeared from view. After a moment, she called out and said, “Jones, get in here. You need to see this.”

Jones tiptoed down the hall into the living room and found it filled with heaps of broken machinery. Piles of metallic junk covered the floor. On top of the mess lay a broken, gold-painted abacus with its beads scattered everywhere.

Smith stood in the center of the room. She held a small chalkboard and stared at it with confusion. Then she held it up to for Jones to see. Written on it in chalk was a long string of numbers:

“941432434315126593210548723904868285129134748760276719592346085829583047250165232525929692572765536436346272718401201264314754632945012784726484107562234789626728592858295347502772262646456217613984829519475412398501.”

Suki looked into the room from the doorway and let out a dull moan. Before anyone could react, she grabbed the chalkboard out of Smith’s hands. Then she rubbed her arm over the numbers in a frenzy, obliterating them as she said, “My baby’s not crazy. My baby’s not crazy. My baby’s not crazy.”

They heard a clanking sound as Jenna stepped out from behind a pile of metal wreckage in the corner, naked. Her ribs jutted out through her veiny, translucent skin, and her scalp was shaved. Her cheeks and eyes were so sunken in that her head resembled a skull with eyeballs. The area around her right eye was swollen and red, and a gigantic purple vein pulsated on her right temple.

They stared in shock as she opened her mouth to an impossible size. The tendons and ligaments in her jaw snapped apart. Her teeth clattered to the floor, pushed out by inch-long mandibles. An image of a starry nighttime sky showed in the space inside her mouth. The sight made Ralph scream in terror.

Jenna let out a horrific shriek and charged at them with her arms outstretched. The police officers pointed their guns with panic on their faces and opened fire. Suki fell to her knees in despair.

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