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 Posted: Sat Oct 15, 2011 10:13 pm
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 12:18 am
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 2:46 am
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The Insanity Room
Long ago, in a village up in the mountains of Northern Asia, people treated each other like family. It was all a combined effort to keep the town clean, raise the children and of course.. to survive. A house stood prominently above all else due to it being the highest elevated house in the village. They kept this house very clean, spotless, yet no one ever lived there. You see, they hoped that visitors would see the perfect house from a distance and come to visit them. They loved outsiders dearly, they were given the sky house and catered to their whole visit. Visitors have known to call these mountains in which the villagers live in, "The Mountains of Life"
However, one day.. A man was plowing an extension to the fields to feed the increasing amount of visitors they've had over the year. He leaned over his plow and the sweat dripped down from his face. He tilted his face towards the opposite way the wind was blowing, as to catch it's full force and cool him down. He let out a sigh in relief, and as he stood back up to go back to plowing the fields he heard a feint scream. He dropped his plow and quickly ran in the direction he heard it from. He walked to a bridge overlooking a waterfall and stared down. His eyes widened and his hand gripped his mouth tight. He had gazed upon a body of a woman. Her hair was blonde, but soaked in blood. Her body lay face first down on the ground, but her head twisted staring straight up. Her eyelids ripped off as if torn off slowly. An expression of fear stuck on her face as she gazed up towards the plower, lifeless..
Tears ran down the plowers face, never would he let such a thing happen.. As he gasped for air between held back sobs he saw a car drive off, a black SUV. In the back window... the heads of two children, with their eyes and mouth twined shut. Their bodies... flowing down the river... The plower wanted to run after the SUV, but what would he do? He never wanted to kill another human being. He simply wanted to ask why, and how? Life is a gift, an invaluable gift that everyone only receives once.. To take that away, due to your own problems? Is there such a problem that justifies to take what you could never return? The rain started pouring, and the plower returned to his village. He stood at the entrance, wondering if he could ever go back to this place after what he saw.. He clenched his fists tight and walked home.
As he arrived home, he noticed that he had forgot to finish his roof, the rain had soaked his house. There was too much work to do to finish before a reasonable time for sleep. So he sauntered quietly, no emotion on his face, to the house where guests are kept. He opened the door, promptly locking it behind him. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed some towels, drying his face and hands. He opened the fridge for some food, and as it creaked, the scream he had heard echoed through his mind. No longer hungry, he shut the door, trembling as he walked away. He didn't want to sleep in the bedrooms meant for visitors so he laid down in a room that was built as an extra room for if travelers ever needed a room to themselves. He opened the door, and hit the light. Apparently the weather had caused the villages power supply to shut down. It was pitch dark in the room, all for but under the window where the moon shined through. He collapsed to his knees, and slowly laid upon the warm wool carpet.
He laid there, knowing that he was keeping his mind blank of all that had happened. He didn't want to believe it was possible. He laid there, no rest at all that night. Even when the sun started to rise the next morning, he didn't move. The floor and his clothes still damp from the rain. He stared out the window, for hours. His mind had slowly started losing touch on reality. He wanted to call for help, but he just couldn't form words when he spoke.
Night time again came creeping upon him. The moon light the only thing visible in the room once more. His eyes closed from exhaustion, shortly a few seconds after they jolted open. He screamed, for where the moonlight was, he could see the corpse of the lady, her head twisted back staring at him. Her eyes followed his hands to his face as he tried to hide what he was seeing. He covered his eyes, and when he looked back, nothing was there. Tears streamed down his face, he couldn't take it. He laid there without food for 2 days. The 3rd night he slept half way through it before he heard what sounded like two melons hitting the floor. He opened his eyes, looking straight into the face of one of the headless children. He screamed again and pushed it away from him, the other head laying on the other side of the room. He sat up, wanting to know how this could be happening. He clenched the wool carpet and as he did, it gushed blood into his hand. He looked down and he was holding a bloody lock of the blonde woman's hair. He threw it across the room with a quick gasp. The heads rolled over into the moonlight. They faced him, he stared at them and a gust of wind blew through the room as he heard the scream echo violently over and over again. He covered his ears, but from behind him two arms reached through the wall and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the wall. He looked at the arms screaming, still unable to form words as he looked into the darkness barley seeing two child's bodies decapitated and crawling towards him. He leaned his head back to not watch, staring at the ceiling. As he stared, the woman's head came through the ceiling and stared back at him. The corpses of the children crawled up his body, and ripped his eye lids off, as the arms of the woman let go of his wrists. Her hands placed on his chin, and the side of his head as she slowly twisted his head around until it snapped, and stayed in the position he saw hers in.
Three months went by, and the villagers grieved not knowing where the plower had gone. His friend had returned home from a stay at a neighboring village where he gathered supplies and spent time helping them rebuild after the bad storm that night. With him he brought a family that wanted to see the village and meet his friend the plower. He let them stay in the guest house since the sun was setting. The power was working again in the village since a week after the storm they had, so they had restocked the fridge. The family settled, as the children explored the house. The two children walked down the extra room where the plower had been killed. They walked towards it slowly, and the door creaked open by itself. The older brother wanted to show off his bravery and he marched into the room. It was empty, nothing there...
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 3:43 am
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 12:48 pm
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I'll try.
I just want to start off by saying if you want an answer at the end, prepare to be disappointed. There just isn't one.
I was an intern at Nickelodeon Studios for a year in 2005 for my degree in animation. It wasn't paid of course, most internships aren't, but it did have some perks beyond education. To adults it might not seem like a big one, but most kids at the time would go crazy over it.
Now, since I worked directly with the editors and animators, I got to view the new episodes days before they aired. I'll get right to it without giving too many unnecessary details. They had very recently made the SpongeBob movie and the entire staff was somewhat sapped of creativity so it took them longer to start up the season. But the delay lasted longer for more upsetting reasons. There was a problem with the series 4 premiere that set everyone and everything back for several months.
Me and two other interns were in the editing room along with the lead animators and sound editors for the final cut. We received the copy that was supposed to be "Fear of a Krabby Patty" and gathered around the screen to watch. Now, given that it isn't final yet animators often put up a mock title card, sort of an inside joke for us, with phony, often times lewd titles, such as "How sex doesn't work" instead of "Rock-a-bye-Bivalve" when SpongeBob and Patrick adopt a sea scallop. Nothing particularly funny but work related chuckles. So when we saw the title card "Squidward's Suicide" we didn't think it more than a morbid joke.
One of the interns did a small throat laugh at it. The happy-go-lucky music plays as is normal. The story began with Squidward practicing his clarinet, hitting a few sour notes like normal. We hear SpongeBob laughing outside and Squidward stops, yelling at him to keep it down as he has a concert that night and needs to practice. SpongeBob says okay and goes to see Sandy with Patrick. The bubbles splash screen comes up and we see the ending of Squidward's concert. This is when things began to seem off.
While playing, a few frames repeat themselves, but the sound doesn't (at this point sound is synced up with animation, so, yes, that's not common) but when he stops playing, the sound finishes as if the skip never happened. There is slight murmuring in the crowd before they begin to boo him. Not normal cartoon booing that is common in the show, but you could very clearly hear malice in it. Squidward's in full frame and looks visibly afraid. The shot goes to the crowd, with SpongeBob in center frame, and he too is booing, very much unlike him. That isn't the oddest thing, though. What is odd is everyone had hyper realistic eyes. Very detailed. Clearly not shots of real people's eyes, but something a bit more real than CGI. The pupils were red. Some of us looked at each other, obviously confused, but since we weren't the writers, we didn't question its appeal to children yet.
The shot goes to Squidward sitting on the edge of his bed, looking very forlorn. The view out of his porthole window is of a night sky so it isn't very long after the concert. The unsettling part is at this point there is no sound. Literally no sound. Not even the feedback from the speakers in the room. It's as if the speakers were turned off, though their status showed them working perfectly. He just sat there, blinking, in this silence for about 30 seconds, then he started to sob softly. He put his hands (tentacles) over his eyes and cried quietly for a full minute more, all the while a sound in the background very slowly growing from nothing to barely audible. It sounded like a slight breeze through a forest.
The screen slowly begins to zoom in on his face. By slow I mean it's only noticeable if you look at shots 10 seconds apart side by side. His sobbing gets louder, more full of hurt and anger. The screen then twitches a bit, as if it twists in on itself, for a split second then back to normal. The wind-through-the-trees sound gets slowly louder and more severe, as if a storm is brewing somewhere. The eerie part is this sound, and Squidward's sobbing, sounded real, as if the sound wasn't coming from the speakers but as if the speakers were holes the sound was coming through from the other side. As good as sound as the studio likes to have, they don't purchase the equipment to be that good to produce sound of that quality.
Below the sound of the wind and sobbing, very faint, something sounded like laughing. It came at odd intervals and never lasted more than a second so you had a hard time pinning it (we watched this show twice, so pardon me if things sound too specific but I've had time to think about them). After 30 seconds of this, the screen blurred and twitched violently and something flashed over the screen, as if a single frame was replaced.
The lead animation editor paused and rewound frame by frame. What we saw was horrible. It was a still photo of a dead child. He couldn't have been more than 6. The face was mangled and bloodied, one eye dangling over his upturned face, popped. He was naked down to his underwear, his stomach crudely cut open and his entrails laying beside him. He was laying on some pavement that was probably a road.
The most upsetting part was that there was a shadow of the photographer. There was no crime tape, no evidence tags or markers, and the angle was completely off for a shot designed to be evidence. It would seem the photographer was the person responsible for the child's death. We were of course mortified, but pressed on, hoping that it was just a sick joke.
The screen flipped back to Squidward, still sobbing, louder than before, and half body in frame. There was now what appeard to be blood running down his face from his eyes. The blood was also done in a hyper realistic style, looking as if you touched it you'd get blood on your fingers. The wind sounded now as if it were that of a gale blowing through the forest; there were even snapping sounds of branches. The laughing, a deep baritone, lasting at longer intervals and coming more frequently. After about 20 seconds, the screen again twisted and showed a single frame photo.
The editor was reluctant to go back, we all were, but he knew he had to. This time the photo was that of what appeared to be a little girl, no older than the first child. She was laying on her stomach, her barrettes in a pool of blood next to her. Her left eye was too popped out and popped, naked except for underpants. Her entrails were piled on top of her above another crude cut along her back. Again the body was on the street and the photographer's shadow was visible, very similar in size and shape to the first. I had to choke back vomit and one intern, the only female in the room, ran out. The show resumed.
About 5 seconds after this second photo played, Squidward went silent, as did all sound, like it was when this scene started. He put his tentacles down and his eyes were now done in hyper realism like the others were in the beginning of this episode. They were bleeding, bloodshot, and pulsating. He just stared at the screen, as if watching the viewer. After about 10 seconds, he started sobbing, this time not covering his eyes. The sound was piercing and loud, and most fear inducing of all is his sobbing was mixed with screams.
Tears and blood were dripping down his face at a heavy rate. The wind sound came back, and so did the deep voiced laughing, and this time the still photo lasted for a good 5 frames.
The animator was able to stop it on the 4th and backed up. This time the photo was of a boy, about the same age, but this time the scene was different. The entrails were just being pulled out from a stomach wound by a large hand, the right eye popped and dangling, blood trickling down it. The animator proceeded. It was hard to believe, but the next one was different but we couldn't tell what. He went on to the next, same thing. He want back to the first and played them quicker and I lost it. I vomited on the floor, the animating and sound editors gasping at the screen. The 5 frames were not as if they were 5 different photos, they were played out as if they were frames from a video. We saw the hand slowly lift out the guts, we saw the kid's eyes focus on it, we even saw two frames of the kid beginning to blink.
The lead sound editor told us to stop, he had to call in the creator to see this. Mr. Hillenburg arrived within about 15 minutes. He was confused as to why he was called down there, so the editor just continued the episode. Once the few frames were shown, all screaming, all sound again stopped. Squidward was just staring at the viewer, full frame of the face, for about 3 seconds. The shot quickly panned out and that deep voice said "DO IT" and we see in Squidward's hands a shotgun. He immediately puts the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. Realistic blood and brain matter splatters the wall behind him, and his bed, and he flies back with the force. The last 5 seconds of this episode show his body on the bed, on his side, one eye dangling on what's left of his head above the floor, staring blankly at it. Then the episode ends.
Mr. Hillenburg is obviously angry at this. He demanded to know what the heck was going on. Most people left the room at this point, so it was just a handful of us to watch it again. Viewing the episode twice only served to imprint the entirety of it in my mind and cause me horrible nightmares. I'm sorry I stayed.
The only theory we could think of was the file was edited by someone in the chain from the drawing studio to here. The CTO was called in to analyze when it happened. The analysis of the file did show it was edited over by new material. However, the timestamp of it was a mere 24 seconds before we began viewing it. All equipment involved was examined for foreign software and hardware as well as glitches, as if the time stamp may have glitched and showed the wrong time, but everything checked out fine. We don't know what happened and to this day nobody does.
There was an investigation due to the nature of the photos, but nothing came of it. No child seen was identified and no clues were gathered from the data involved nor physical clues in the photos. I never believed in unexplainable phenomena before, but now that I have something happen and can't prove anything about it beyond anecdotal evidence, I think twice about things.
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 5:02 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 2:19 am
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I've got a story that I wrote about four years back, though I don't think it's exactly appropriate for the little kiddies. I was going through a Stephen King phase. Therefore, read at your own risk.
The Story of The Summer Place Killer
James Johnson Marek loved the song "Theme from a Summer Place". He only like Percy Faith's version though, even though there were other versions. It was four year's after the song's release (1964). James had played that song endlessly on his record player, until the album itself got all worn out. Since his parent's were above average class, they could afford to get him a new one every time he needed one.
His dad often remarked "Why is he obsessed with that song? Why doesn't he listen to The Rolling Stones or The Hollies like his friend's do?". His mother always responded "He just loves that record, let the boy be.”
It was because of that song that he grew to such an obsession. He was only five years old at the time and he had no real friends. On the surface, Jimmy Marek looked like any other brown haired, blue eyed youngster at his age. But because he had such an obsession with that song, no one wanted to play with him. Playing that song eventually drove his parents insane too. Eventually they stoppd buying that record, and even went to the extent of giving him other records to help make his taste in music more varied. But he didn't buy into it. It got so bad, that one day his dad broke the record in half in protest to shut him up.
But Jim was clever, even at that age. He had a back-up copy of the record.
It soon became Jim's obsession, and he hated every other song that played.
One day, a fe w days before his seventh birthday Jim walked into his mother's bedroom to ask her a question. What he saw mentally injured him for the rest of his life.
He saw his mother and a total stranger fornicating in his bed with his song playing in the background.
After this incident, Jimmy curled up in the fetal position. He wanted to be in the cold darkness of the room. Darkness was calm, tranquil, and peaceful. Darkness forgave. The cruel light, burned his eyes, made him feel inadequate, and the light shined on his disgusting mother and her deranged foulness.
Slowly, he stopped listening to "Theme From A Summer Place" as well. It only reminded him of the incident.
And every time he heard it, he wanted to kill someone, something the nearest thing to help keep his inadequacies at bay.
To him, murder seemed to be the only way to cleanse his suffering, to eliminate what he saw-to take his mind off of his world.
It began with small animals, squirrels, raccoons, small wildlife. And it took a little while for his parent's to understand why there were animal carcases all over the yard it seemed. At first they thought it was the neighbor's dog, but when they discovered Jim mutilating the neighbor's cat, that's when they agreed that he needed help.
So much to his disagreement, his parents sent him to a shrink, within eighteen month's he was cured.
For almost twenty years anyway.
At age twenty-nine, Jimmy Marek was a carpenter. He loved building and creating, and cutting things. He loved the salary it paid too. Jimmy also loved the oldies, he hated disco. It had no heart. The 1980's had released a lot of synth pop that he didn't quite agree with, but it wasn't bad either.
One day, he tuned into the oldies station. He was drinking his coffee and heard the song again, being played over the radio.
It was "Theme From A Summer Place" by good ol' Percy Faith. Jim pulled out the old vinyl that he had and made a copy of it to his Walkman, which he bought the previous day. The song triggered the suppressed memory and activated his PTSD. He brought out his chainsaw from his garage. To not get his fingerprint's traced, he wore black leather gloves. Jim's subconscious was resurrected and stimulated every time he heard that song.
And since he was a carpenter, he had all access to the tools in the world.
All the tools in the world....
Jim hated his boss. Even though they got along great, his subconscious always loathed him. He was jealous that his boss got to live the perfect life and have the perfect family. So, he took his chainsaw, his sack and walked to his bosses house, the song playing in his Walkman.
He knocked on the door.
"Hey, Jim what's up?" his boss said.
Jim was eerily silent as he revved up the chainsaw and bifurcated him down the middle, so that his intestines fell at his feet.
Now his boss had nothing but girls. He walked inside his bosses home.
All the girls in the family, were wondering what was going on. They saw the chainsaw wielding maniac in the house. In their living room. They ran up the stairs, moving back slowly and then dashing up.
His bosses wife, who was reading a book in her living room chair, ran too, throwing a table down to trip up Marek. He stubbed his toe, and almost fell, but regained his footing and continued the chase.
He cornered them at the end of the hall.
“Why are you doing this?!” pleaded the youngest of the girls.
“Because I want to!!!” Marek roared maniacally, and jammed the chainsaw blade at the direction of the oldest girl's head. She ducked, and they all moved in the direction of the master bedroom.
He continued the chaise. To him, it was all just a game.
Finally, there was nowhere to run. They were on the second floor, and a jump would result in a broken leg. There were no trees.
Marek made it into the locked bedroom door, cutting the door into two pieces.
“Mommie, are we gonna die?” asked the youngest girl.
“No Sally, you won't. Go on, get your sister's and go. Save yourselves.” She said.
But no sooner did she say that, then Marek jammed the chainsaw blade into the head of the oldest girl.
Mom opened the window and threw her middle daughter out the window. As if by luck or faith, she hit the windshield of their parked Toyota. And after landing, she was badly hurt, but had enough strength to catch her younger sister who was thrown next.
As she was about to escape, Marek pulled her back in.
“OH NO B--- YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY!!!” he said, cutting her head off and having his way with their corpes,.
The two girls, got up and ran into the night.
He made off with $55,000.00 of his bosses fortune, which was kept in a locked safe in his office and after taking the money, (he could hear police sirens faintly), he poured gasoline all over the house and torched it. The place was a erupting fireball and while the emergency services had gotten there, he had long left the place.
The next morning, Jim woke up with no memories of what happened. He took a shower since he reeked of every human expectant imaginable.
And he went to his job as he normally did.
Except that the only difference was that he found out that his boss and his family were dead. He cried for them for they were great friends.
He still felt like he was on fire below the waist.
What was really gruesome was that their house was burned to the ground after they were murdered.
Jim had absolutely no memory of what happened the previous night.
Somehow, he heard the song again on the oldies station a week and a half later. This time, he went to kill his wife's new husband. He was a fat, indolent, slob if he ever saw one.
And there was only one way to kill a pig with bait and an axe.
Walking into the Dormstar Motel, and headed up to their room. He cut both of their heads off with the same weapon. Feather's and blood flew everywhere.
For the next two years, he did these gruesome murder's. Killing people he secretly hated or was jealous of, and if there were woman or girl's involved, he messed with them too.
By the time the police got involved, the town was a ghost town. People just didn't want to be in the same community that a psychotic madman was in.
The town's were deserted, but that didn't stop Jim and his obsessive love for killing. The police were baffled, and the cases of the killer went cold fast. There simply wasn't enough evidence (DNA testing wasn't around-yet). Finally, though, the day came when the DNA profiling was advanced enough to where the critical evidence that he had left behind, was beginning to match up. It was 1988 and the Summer Place Killer, as he had been identified as, was about to have his last show.
By the same girl that had had her life changed that same night, when her parents and older sister were killed, her house destroyed and robbed, and left her and her younger sister orphans that had fought their way to the top.
Her name? Lieutenant Samantha Billings.
She knew that to capture a serial killer was a dangerous and sometimes tricky endeavor. Especially one that had taken such good care in making everything work out. She had been only in high school when it happened. It was amazing at what a few years could do.
The next night, Lt. Billings had set up a trap for Marek, who though had little in the way of a police record, was a prime suspect for now thanks to the testing. A tip had come through, that Marek was staying at a Holiday Inn nearby. With a SWAT Team and about six dozen other officers, she busted down the door of the room he was staying in.
“James Marek, you are under arrest for rape, murder, arson, and manslaughter.” she yelled.
Marek had gotten out of the shower, and was pretty normal. The Stones were playing in the background.
“Where's your proof and your warrant?”
Billings walked over to him and slapped him, cutting his face with her long fingernails.
“DNA Profiling links you up to nearly every cold case in this area of the past four years. Including the one that killed my parents and sister you filthy cold hearted b*****d. Here's your warrant. I'll make sure that you hang for this.”
Marek was tried and given a choice between being sentenced to 358 years in prison or committed to a psychiatric hospital. While the psychiatric hospital was okay initially, it soon got to be a far worse hell. The doctor's here were performing a case study on him and it was mostly on his brain and why he did the things that he did. But Marek soon hated the place and began to feel remorse and regret for the things that he had done. The guilt consumed his soul and he began to weep again for all the horrible things he had done.
There was only one way out now. There was no pointed objects in here (obviously) and he was wearing strap shoes, which had no shoelaces. They were also tied up, to keep him from doing injury to himself.
Jim began to attack everything in the cell and they sedated him, placing him in a straight jacket. He asked for another since he complained that it was so cold. The request was granted, and they placed it on top of him because it seemed harmless. He told them that it was too loose and when they tightened it to the max, it started to cut off his oxygen supply. He died two hours later, a slow and painful suicide, coincidentally, the song playing over the intercom in the background at that moment was “Theme from a Summer Place”.
In the end, James Marek went insane and it was all over a simple song, which indeed cost him his freedom, and in the end, it cost him his life.
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 4:34 am
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Here's the story...
...
...
...
this girl, Darla, 18 years old, with her boyfriend Jacob, 20..
They have been so happy on each other.
They lived with love..
Darla promised that Jacob will never be replaced.
So was Jacob
Hey, its their 2nd anniversary today!
September 15, 1987
On a bright sunny DAY of Moglin town, they were celebrating 100 Days Before Christmas Feast. There were so many people. So happy, the happiness...
Darla, who was watching fire works, is JUST 50 feet away from Jacob, who activates the fire crackers.......
A moment, Jacob accidentally activated a fire cracker at the very wrong angle... The fire cracker blasted Jacob into pieces of meat flesh.
Darla loudly cried saying his name..Darla cried every night of her life..
Until she met Joshua. Her newly classmate.. He's not the very ideal of a girl. He had a crush on Darla.
He tried to court Darla. He makes her smile, he makes her laugh, he makes her HAPPY.They were now so close to each other..Then, they became "us".
One day, Darla's conscious led herself to the graveyard where Jacob is buried. She remembered that they were happy together but not the ''promise''.
Then she ran away very fast, SCARED.
After 6 months of Joshua and Darla, the feeling on Darla came to herself again...
She feels Jacob again. His touch when she is in bed, the voice in her head when she takes a bath, and his PRESENCE WHEN SHE WERE ALONE.
One night, she goes to a party without Joshua cuz' he got to do some project assigned to him. She dance, she grove, does it like a boss biggrin
When she is separated with her friends, she goes in to a narrow road..
She feels someone.. Stalking her? Walking with her? She dont know.
Darla grabbed her flashlight, to see who's there..
There's no one. Except for..
JACOB. She is grudged... She is so scared.. She ran away, and ray away, but Jacob is trying to KILL her too.. He said
Jacob: You will be mine, always, and I will be yours!
Darla: But why?! Let me GO!
Jacob: You promised me, and I promised you. I love you...
Darla cried for that moment and she stops from running.. She let Jacob hug her because deep within her heart she always love Jacob and only now she realized that.
In the morning, December 25, 1987, Darla wasn't able to find. She was missing. Her family reported it to the police immediately. They have been searching for her everywhere, anywhere, even in other towns, but no trace, even a single strand of hair, is found.
She actually died on the date, Dec. 24 10:10pm. The 99th day after Jacob died. Her death was a total mystery.. But rumors say that maybe Jacob took her with death because they know that their relationship was very special.
...But they found at the place where Jacob is buried, a blood written: "D"
The End.
Hope YOU like the LongShort Story of mine. Easy to read! biggrin
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 5:14 am
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At our new apartment, my son had been waking up in the middle of the night at the same time every night for about four months. I could not help but get mad at him, because it was always 4 a.m., and I had to be at work at 6 a.m. He would wake up crying for no reason, until he started saying these scary words to me and my wife - not to mention that he is only 18 months old! He would say “dog” and point to the bathroom door in our room. For days, I blew it off, telling him to just go to bed. Then, one night, once again, the same thing happened. He woke up crying saying “dog.” Only this time, he suddenly started saying “Josh” and “Joe.” I do not know anyone by those names. To tell you the truth, it scared the crap out of me!
So, I sat with him, but he would not stop crying and saying the names. I got up to turn the bathroom light on and opened the door, so he could see that nothing was there and not be afraid anymore. But, after I turned the light on in the bathroom, I looked out of my room door ( that was open at the time), and I saw this big black figure standing right over my coffee table! Man! I almost froze in my socks! I jumped into bed with my son. I was so scared and started to pray for God’s help to protect me and my family. Soon, we both fell fast asleep.
The next day, my wife and I got a couple of crosses to put up over the front door and patio door and recited a bunch of prayers out of the bible and put holy water over my son to bless him. Thank the Lord! He stopped getting scared and now sleeps all night without problems. I do not know what was in my house, but I know that me and my son were scared!
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 7:27 am
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mad-man-manic At our new apartment, my son had been waking up in the middle of the night at the same time every night for about four months. I could not help but get mad at him, because it was always 4 a.m., and I had to be at work at 6 a.m. He would wake up crying for no reason, until he started saying these scary words to me and my wife - not to mention that he is only 18 months old! He would say “dog” and point to the bathroom door in our room. For days, I blew it off, telling him to just go to bed. Then, one night, once again, the same thing happened. He woke up crying saying “dog.” Only this time, he suddenly started saying “Josh” and “Joe.” I do not know anyone by those names. To tell you the truth, it scared the crap out of me! So, I sat with him, but he would not stop crying and saying the names. I got up to turn the bathroom light on and opened the door, so he could see that nothing was there and not be afraid anymore. But, after I turned the light on in the bathroom, I looked out of my room door ( that was open at the time), and I saw this big black figure standing right over my coffee table! Man! I almost froze in my socks! I jumped into bed with my son. I was so scared and started to pray for God’s help to protect me and my family. Soon, we both fell fast asleep. The next day, my wife and I got a couple of crosses to put up over the front door and patio door and recited a bunch of prayers out of the bible and put holy water over my son to bless him. Thank the Lord! He stopped getting scared and now sleeps all night without problems. I do not know what was in my house, but I know that me and my son were scared!
that's pretty creepy. same thing happened to my friend so they put a picture of jesus in her closet. it stopped the moving items so the picture will stay there. |
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 8:29 am
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 9:53 am
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I rememberd one called the Death Waltz, it was retold by S. E. Schlosser
and here's how it goes!
Within an hour of my arrival at Fort Union, my new post, my best friend Johnny came to the barracks with a broad grin and a friendly clout on the shoulder. He'd hurried over as soon as he heard I had come, and we talked 'til sunset and beyond.
As soon as Johnny mentioned Celia's name, I knew he had it bad for her. To hear him talk, Celia was the most amazing woman who had ever graced God's green earth. She was the sister-in-law of the captain, and all the young men on the base were infatuated with her. Celia was the prettiest of the eligible ladies that graced Fort Union society. She liked the spice of adventure to be found so near the wilds.
Johnny alternated between elation when Celia talked with him and despair when she flirted with another man. I watched their courtship from afar and was troubled. There was something about Celia that I didn't like. I never mentioned it to Johnny, but I thought she was too much of a flirt. I wished Johnny had fallen for a nicer woman.
About a month after I arrived at Fort Union, a birthday dance was given for one of the officers. To Johnny's elation, Celia agreed to be his partner at the dance. Johnny was dancing on cloud nine all night, until a messenger came gasping into the room to report an Apache raid. With a small scream of terror, Celia clung shamelessly to Johnny and begged him not to go even though he was the lieutenant put in charge of the mission. Well sir, Johnny proposed to her right then and there and Celia accepted. Furthermore, Celia told Johnny that she would wait for him, and that if he didn't come back she would never marry. I doubted Celia's sincerity, but Johnny just ate it up.
I was assigned to Johnny's troop, so I had to leave too. We started out the next morning, and had a rough week tracking down and fighting the Apaches. Johnny split up the troop; taking command of the first group and giving me command of the second. My men reached the rendezvous point with no casualties, but only half of the other group arrived, and Johnny was not among them. They'd been ambushed by the Apaches. I had to take command of the troop. We searched for survivors, but never found Johnny's body. As soon as I could, I ordered the men to turn for home.
Celia made a terrible, heart-rending scene when she found out Johnny was missing. She flung herself into my arms when I gave her the news and sobbed becomingly. The display turned my stomach, it was so obviously insincere. I excused myself hastily and left her to the ministrations of the other soldiers. From that time on, I was careful to stay away from Celia, who mourned less than a week for my friend before resuming her flirtatious ways.
About a month later, a rich handsome lieutenant arrived at Fort Union. He was from the East, and Celia took a real shine to him. Johnny was completely forgotten and so was her promise to him. It wasn't long before Celia and the lieutenant were engaged and started planning a big wedding. Nothing but the very best would suit Celia, and her bridegroom had the money to indulge her.
Everyone in Fort Union was invited to the ceremony, and the weather was perfect on the day of the wedding. Everyone turned out in their best clothes and the wedding was a social success. After the ceremony, all the guests were invited to a celebratory ball.
We were waltzing around the ballroom when the door flew open with a loud bang. A gust of cold air blew in, dimming the candles. A heart-wrenching wail echoed through the room. The music stopped abruptly and everyone turned to look at the door. Standing there was the swollen, dead body of a soldier. It was dressed in an officer's uniform. The eyes were burning with a terrible fire. The temple had a huge gash from a hatchet-blow. There was no scalp. It was Johnny.
The whole crowd stood silent, as if in a trance. No one moved, no one murmured. I wanted to cry out when I recognized Johnny, but I was struck dumb like the rest of the wedding guests.
Johnny walked across the room and took Celia out of her bridegroom's arms. She was frozen in horror and could not resist. Johnny looked at the musicians. Still in a trance, they began to play a horrible, demonic sounding waltz. Johnny and Celia began to dance. They swept around and around the room, doing an intricate waltz. Johnny held the white-clad bride tight against his dead body while a deathly pallor crept over her face. Her steps slowed but still Johnny held her tight and moved them around in a grisly parody of a waltz. Celia's eyes bulged. She turned as white as her gown and her mouth sagged open. She gave one small gasp, and died in his arms.
Johnny dropped Celia's body on the floor and stood over her, wringing his blood-stained hands. He threw back his head and gave another unearthly wail that echoed around the room. Then he vanished through the door.
Released from the trance, the crowd gasped and exclaimed. The bridegroom ran to Celia and knelt beside her, wringing his hands in the same manner as Johnny. His cries were all too human.
Unable to bear the sight of the stricken bridegroom, I took my captain aside and asked permission to take a small detail back to the place where our troop had been attacked by the Apaches to search once more for my dead friend. He sent a dozen men with me. We combed the area, and finally found Johnny's body hidden in a crevice. It looked exactly the same as it had appeared on the night of Celia's wedding.
We brought Johnny back to the fort with us and the captain buried him beside Celia. Celia's bridegroom went back East shortly after we buried Johnny, and I resigned my commission a few days later and went home, never wanting to see that cursed place again.
I heard later that Celia's ghost was often seen at dusk, weeping over Johnny's grave, but I never went back to Fort Union to see it for myself.
and thats the end, read it a long time ago, can't believe i remeberd it.
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