Black Aggie

A Maryland Ghost Story

 (Left) Black Aggie as she looked in 1966. As the stories claimed, no grass would grow in front of the monument (Photo courtesy of Pat Bailey)

When Felix Agnus put up the life-sized shrouded bronze statue of a grieving angel, seated on a pedestal, in the Agnus family plot in the Druid Ridge Cemetery, he had no idea what he had started. The statue was a rather eerie figure by day, frozen in a moment of grief and terrible pain. At night, the figure was almost unbelievably creepy; the shroud over its head obscuring the face until you were up close to it. There was a living air about the grieving angel, as if its arms could really reach out and grab you if you weren't careful.
It didn't take long for rumors to sweep through the town and surrounding countryside. They said that the statue - nicknamed Black Aggie - was haunted by the spirit of a mistreated wife who lay beneath her feet. The statue's eyes would glow red at the stroke of midnight, and any living person who returned the statues gaze would
 instantly be struck blind. Any pregnant woman who passed through her shadow would miscarry. If you sat on her lap at night, the statue would come to life and crush you to death in her dark embrace. If you spoke Black Aggie's name three times at midnight in front of a dark mirror, the evil angel would appear and pull you down to hell. They also said that spirits of the dead would rise from their graves on dark nights to gather around the statue at night.
People began visiting the cemetery just to see the statue, and it was then that the local fraternity decided to make the statue of Grief part of their initiation rites. "Black Aggie" sitting, where candidates for membership had to spend the night crouched beneath the statue with their backs to the grave of General Agnus, became popular.
One dark night, two fraternity members accompanied new hopeful to the cemetery and watched while he took his place underneath the creepy statue. The clouds had obscured the moon that night, and the whole area surrounding the dark statue was filled with a sense of anger and malice. It felt as if a storm were brewing in that part of the cemetery, and to their chagrin, the two fraternity members noticed that gray shadows seemed to be clustering around the body of the frightened fraternity candidate crouching in front of the statue.
What had been a funny initiation rite suddenly took on an air of danger. One of the fraternity brothers stepped forward in alarm to call out to the initiate. As he did, the statue above the boy stirred ominously. The two fraternity brothers froze in shock as the shrouded head turned toward the new candidate. They saw the gleam of glowing red eyes beneath the concealing hood as the statue's arms reached out toward the cowering boy.
With shouts of alarm, the fraternity brothers leapt forward to rescue the new initiate. But it was too late. The initiate gave one horrified yell, and then his body disappeared into the embrace of the dark angel. The fraternity brothers skidded to a halt as the statue thoughtfully rested its glowing eyes upon them. With gasps of terror, the boys fled from the cemetery before the statue could grab them too.
Hearing the screams, a night watchman hurried to the Agnus plot. To his chagrin, he discovered the body of a young man lying at the foot of the statue. The young man had apparently died of fright.
The disruption caused by the statue grew so acute that the Agnus family finally donated it to the Smithsonian museum in Washington D.C.. The grieving angel sat for many years in storage there, never again to plague the citizens visiting the Druid Hill Park Cemetery.

Axe Murder Hollow

A Pennsylvania Ghost Story

Susan and Ned were driving through a wooded empty section of highway. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, the sky went dark in the torrential downpour.      “We’d better stop,”  said Susan.       Ned nodded his head in agreement. He stepped on the brake, and suddenly the car started to slide on the slick pavement. They plunged off the road and slid to a halt at the bottom of an incline.     Pale and shaking, Ned quickly turned to check if Susan was all right.  When she nodded, Ned relaxed and looked through the rain soaked windows.
     “I’m going to see how bad it is,” he told Susan, and when out into the storm. She saw his blurry figure in the headlight, walking around the front of the car. A moment later, he jumped in beside her, soaking wet.       “The car’s not badly damaged, but we’re wheel-deep in mud,” he said. “I’m going to have to go for help.”      Susan swallowed nervously. There would be no quick rescue here. He told her to turn off the headlights and lock the doors until he returned.      Axe Murder Hollow. Although Ned hadn’t said the name aloud, they both knew what he had been thinking when he told her to lock the car.  This was the place where a man had once taken an axe and hacked his wife to death in a jealous rage over an alleged affair. Supposedly, the axe-wielding spirit of the husband continued to haunt this section of the road.      Outside the car, Susan heard a shriek, a loud thump, and a strange gurgling noise. But she couldn’t see anything in the darkness.      Frightened, she shrank down into her seat. She sat in silence for a while, and then she noticed another sound.  Bump. Bump. Bump.  It was a soft sound, like something being blown by the wind.       Suddenly, the car was illuminated by a bright light.  An official sounding voice told her to get out of the car. Ned must have found a police officer.  Susan unlocked the door and stepped out of the car.  As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she saw it.      Hanging by his feet from the tree next to the car was the dead body of Ned.  His bloody throat had been cut so deeply that he was nearly decapitated. The wind swung his corpse back and forth so that it thumped against the tree. Bump. Bump. Bump.     Susan screamed and ran toward the voice and the light. As she drew close, she realized the light was not coming from a flashlight. Standing there was the glowing figure of a man with a smile on his face and a large, solid, and definitely real axe in his hands. She backed away from the glowing figure until she bumped into the car.        “Playing around when my back was turned,” the ghost whispered, stroking the sharp blade of the axe with his fingers. “You’ve been very naughty.”      The last thing she saw was the glint of the axe blade in the eerie, incandescent light.

Glass Doll

The Glass Doll is a scary children’s story from Russia about a young girl who wants her parents to buy her a new toy and won’t take no for an answer.

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved dolls. Her mother and father took her shopping and told her to pick out a new toy. The girl went all around the store, searching for a toy she wanted. She came to a big display of doll and in the center, she saw the most beautiful glass doll she had ever laid eyes on.

The girl asked her father to buy her the glass doll. Her father picked up the doll and examined it closely. All of a sudden, the doll’s eyes turned red and the father dropped it like a hot potato.

“I don’t like the look of this doll”, said her father. “There’s something not quite right about it”. And he refused to buy it.

Then the girl asked her mother to buy the glass doll for her.

“Your father doesn’t like the look of this doll”, said the mother. “I think you should choose a different one.”

But the girl began stamping her feet and screaming “I want! I want! I want!”

Finally, the girl’s mother relented and bought the glass doll for her.

Later that day, the father was preparing to go away overnight on a business trip. Still uneasy about his daughter’s new toy, he left the girl a note. It read “Daughter, do not go to sleep with the glass doll in your bedroom.”

The girl played all day with the glass doll and then, at bedtime, she placed it on the night table beside her bed and went to sleep.

A few minutes later, she heard a noise in the darkened room and sat upright in bed. In the darkness, she could see a pair of glowing red eyes. She thought it must be a trick of the light and she rubbed her eyes.

When she looked again, the red eyes were closer. Thinking it was just her imagination, the girl rubbed her eyes again.

When she looked again, the red eyes were right beside her face.

She heard the doll whisper in her ear “Lie down on the pillow. I promise I won’t strangle you.”

So the girl laid her head down on the pillow and the doll strangled her to death.

The girl’s mother came into the room and when she saw her daughter lying dead on the bed, she ran to her and hugged her tight.

The mother heard the doll whisper in her ear “Lie down beside your daughter. I promise I won’t strangle you.”

So the mother laid down on the bed beside her daughter’s body and the doll strangled her to death too.

When the girl’s dad came home the next morning, her called out to his wife and daughter, but there was no answer. He climbed the stairs and went into his daughter’s room. There, he was startled by a horrible sight. His wife and daughter were lying dead on the bed and the glass doll was sitting in between them, laughing her head off.

In a rage, the father grabbed the glass doll and smashed against the walls and the floor until it was completely destroyed.

But his wife and daughter remained dead.

The End.

Magnolia Lane

Magnolia Lane Plantation in New Orleans is a haunted place steeped in death, voodoo and evil spirits. It was built back in 1835 at a time when slavery was a way of life.

The slaves at Magnolia Lane practised voodoo, using their magic to place curses on the plantation owners. Today, many people are afraid to set foot on the property because it is still rumored to be cursed. Most of the buildings have mysterious black X marks painted on the walls.
A man named Mr Miller was the Overseer on the plantation during the civil war. When troops came to burn down the plantation, Miller begged them to spare it. The troops shot and killed him in the front yard and buried him in front of the house. Ever since, people have heard ghostly footsteps, disembodied voices and unexplained shouts coming from Miller’s old bedroom.
There is a room in the main plantation house that the family sealed off and everyone is forbidden to enter it. They call it “The Dying Room” because many of the Plantation family members died there under mysterious circumstances. It is rumored that their deaths were caused by the voodoo curses placed on them by the slaves.
In front of Magnolia Lane Plantation house, there is a voodoo altar. Anyone who visits Magnolia Lane must leave an offering on the altar for the spirits to avoid a curse.
Also out front of the plantation house, there is “The Hanging Tree” where slaves were tortured and killed in the olden days. Evil spirits are said to haunt the tree and it is dangerous to go near it.

Magnolia Lane Plantation was featured on the paranormal TV shows Scariest Places On Earth, Ghost Hunters and Ghost Adventures.

Charleville

Charleville Forest Castle is one of the most haunted castles in Ireland and has a spooky tale to tell.

Charleville lay vacant for many years, but when local workers began renovating the building, they disturbed the spirits that haunt the residence. The huge staircase is reportedly visited often by the ghost of a young girl named Harriet, who was killed accidentally while sliding down the bannister.
Visitors have felt the chill of her presence while climbing the stairs, and many witnesses claim to have seen her ghost, spiraling down the staircase in the same manner, which took her life. Sometimes, she is seen in the company of a small boy. People have heard the voices of children playing in the nursery, even though it is no longer in use.
The daughter of Charleville’s current owner had a very creepy encounter with the ghost children. She was playing hide and seek, and crawled into a cupboard. A ghostly little hand shut the closet door on the child and flipped the latch, locking her inside. She had to call for her mother to open the latch and let her out.
On another occasion, the little girl got lost in the basement of Charleville. When her parents found her, she claimed that a ghostly little girl had taken her by the hand and led her to safety.
An overnight guest of the castle named Richard Hayes also had an encounter with strange happenings at this site. As he climbed into bed, he heard voices whispering to eachother in conversation. He spent a sleepless night curled up on the floor, with the lights on and the door locked because he was the only person in the castle at the time.
Many ancient oak trees line the driveway. One of the largest is referred to as “King Oak”. Legend says that a member of the Charleville family has died every time the tree lost a branch to weather or old age. Colonel Charles Howard Bury died in May of 1963 – two weeks after the tree was nearly destroyed by a lightning strike.
Charleville has been featured on several paranormal TV shows, including Ghost Hunters, Most Haunted and Scariest Places on Earth.

Jersey Devil

The Jersey Devil is a strange creature that has haunted the New Jersey Pine Barrens for the past 260 years. They say it has terrorized nearby towns and caused factories and schools to close down.

According to legend, an evil old witch named Mrs. Shrouds lived in Leeds Point, NJ. She made a wish that if she ever had another child, she wanted it to be a devil. Her next child was born misshapen and deformed. It had hooves instead of feet, a horses head, and a forked tail. She called it the Jersey Devil and kept it locked up in her house, so the curious couldn’t see it. One stormy night, the child flapped it’s arms, and they turned into wings. It escaped out the chimney and was never seen by the old witch again.
In the early 19th century, Commodore Stephen Decatur, a naval hero, was testing cannon balls on the firing range when he saw a strange creature flying across the sky. He fired and hit the creature but it kept right on flying across the field. Joseph Bonaparte, former king of Spain and brother of Napoleon, saw the Jersey Devil in Bordentown, NJ, between 1816 and 1839 while he was hunting. In 1840-41 many sheep and chickens were killed by a creature with a piercing scream and strange tracks. In 1859-94, the Jersey Devil was seen and numerous times and reportedly carried off anything that moved in Haddonfield, Bridgeton, Smithville, Long Branch, Brigantine, and Leeds Point. W.F. Mayer of New York noticed while visiting the Pine Barrens, most of the locals would not venture out after dark. The devil was sighted by George Saarosy, A prominent business man, at the NJ/NY border. This was the last reported sighting before the turn of the century.

White Eyes

The San Bernardino Mountains contains a lot of wilderness regions which saw substantial activity about 100 years ago. Here, miners and loggers worked to bring materials down to the Los Angeles basin. But, like most industries of that time, there was a high profit motive, and workers lives were not as important as they were now.
One day, a mine tunnel collapsed, trapping a number of men within. They were able to survive, after a fashion, by drinking water which seeped into the tunnels, eating rats, mushrooms, and their dead co-workers. They worked from within to dig themselves out, confident that on the other side, others were digging from the outside in. But the mining company was not known for remembering missing miners.
Well, it took them a while, but they finally managed to dig themselves out. Then, the formerly trapped miners found two surprises. First, since they had lived in darkness for a long period of time, they could no longer stand the sunlight, and their eyes were pure white – no color except for their pupils, which were dilated. Second, the mining company had not bothered to try and dig them out.
They then made a pact, these men, to take revenge on those who had abandoned them.
Police called to the mine found the owner and all the managers of the mining company dead. Soon after, the mining company went out of business: No one was willing to work in those mountains, and even groups of men at night were at risk. Rumor had it that the White-Eyes were out for blood.
Mysterious instances of men being killed in the mountains occurred. These men were usually found mauled, bloody and torn. Close examination showed teeth marks all over the bodies. One man was even beated by his arm which had been torn off at the shoulder.
Now, since this happened about 100 years ago, and since only men were working in the mines, there should be no more White-Eyes around. So, we’re safe – or are we? Several years ago, a hiker was found mauled to death on the trail, and the coroner said the teeth marks he found on the body looked human…

Hairy Hands of Dartmoor

On a stretch of road in Dartmoor, United Kingdom, there have been many sightings for almost a century of a pair of disembodied Hairy Hands that appear suddenly, grab at the steering wheel of a moving car and then force it off of the road.
Picture this - you’re driving along the narrow misty moonlit moors, its a dark, cold night. All of a sudden the steering wheel or handlebars are grabbed by a gruesome pair of grotesque, hairy, calloused hands that are inhumanly strong and do their best to fight you for control of your car.

That’s a story that’s been repeated many times since the first incident in 1921 when a Dartmoor Prison guard was killed as his motorcycle went out of control and crashed. The tale was related by his children who were riding in the sidecar. All they heard was their father shouting at them to get off the bike and apparently wrestling with the steering. They jumped clear and survived. Their dad did not.
This happened again when another motorcyclist and passenger were driven off the road at the same spot. This time the passenger saw a large hairy hand grab the handlebars and forcibly crash the bike.
In 1924 a young couple were camping in a caravan in the area and the woman was awoken in the middle of the night by a a large disembodied hand, covered in hair, crawling up the outside of the caravan window. In her terror, the woman made the sign of the cross and the hand seemed to disappear.
The tale has been heard again and again and the area has become notorious for accidents, many of the survivors giving the story of feeling or seeing the large rough hands, covered in hair grabbing at them and trying to crash their vehicle. Rumours abound that the hands are the ghost of an old man who was hit by a car and killed on that road, the ghost of a deceased Dartmoor Prison inmate or some kind of evil spirit wandering the moors. Whatever they are, its certainly a good idea to take care if you find yourself driving around the lonely country roads of the UK.

The Red Spot

The Red Spot is a short scary story about a young girl who wakes up one morning with a strange blemish on her face.

While Ruth slept, a spider crawled across her face. It stopped for several minutes on her left cheek, then went on it’s way.
“What is this red spot on my cheek?” she asked her mother the next morning.
“It looks like a spider bite”, her mother said.”It will go away, just don’t scratch it.”
Soon the small red spot grew into a small red boil. “Look at it now,” Ruth said. “It’s getting bigger.” “That sometimes happens”, her mother said. “It’s coming to a head.”
In a few days the boil was even larger. “Look at it now”, Ruth said. “It hurts and it’s ugly.”
“We’ll have the doctor look at it”, her mother said. “Maybe it’s infected.”
But the doctor could not see Ruth until the next day.
That night Ruth took a bath. As she soaked herself, the boil burst. Out poured a swarm of tiny spiders from the eggs their mother had laid in her cheek.

The Guests

A young man and his wife were on a trip to visit his mother. Usually they arrived in time for supper. They had gotten a late start, and now it was getting dark. They decided to look for a place to stay overnight and go on in the morning.
Just off the road, they saw a small house in the woods. “Maybe they rent rooms”, the wife said. So they stopped to ask. An elderly man and woman came to the door. They didn’t rent rooms, they said. But they would be glad to have them stay overnight as their guests. They had plenty of room, and they would enjoy the company. The old woman made coffee, brought out some cake, and the four of them talked for awhile. Then the young couple were taken to their room. They explained that they wanted to pay for this, but the old man said he would not accept any money.
The young couple got up early the next morning before their hosts had awakened. On a table near the front door, they left an envelope with some money in it for the room. Then they went on to the next town. They stopped at a restaurant and had breakfast. When they told the owner where they had stayed, he was shocked. “That can’t be”, he said. “That house burned to the ground ten years ago, the old man and woman who lived there died in the fire.”
The young couple could not believe it. So they went back to the house. Only now there was no house. All they found was a burned-out shell. They stood staring at the ruins trying to understand what had happened.
Then the woman started screaming! In the rubble was a badly burned table, on the table was the envelope they had left there that morning!

Night Ride

Night Ride is a short halloween ghost story about a man who stops to pick up a girl who is hitchhiking on the road.

Jerry was driving home late one night when he saw a young lady waiting by a bus stop. He stopped his car and told her that he didn’t think the buses were running so late at night and offered her a ride. The fall night air was getting chilly, so he took off his jacket and gave it to her. Jerry found out that the girl’s name was Mary and she was on her way home.
After an hours drive, they arrived at her home and he dropped her off by the front door. Jerry said goodnight and went home himself.
The next day he remembered that Mary still had his jacket.
He drove to her house and knocked on the door, an old woman answered.
John told her about the ride he had given her daughter Mary, and had come back to get the jacket he had lent her. The old woman looked very confused.
John noticed a picture of Mary on the fireplace mantel. He pointed to it and told the old woman that that was the girl he had given a ride to.
With her voice shaking, the old woman told Jerry that her daughter had been dead for many years and was buried in a cemetery about an hours drive away from there.
Jerry ran to his car and drove to the cemetery….
He found his jacket, neatly folded on top of a grave…the name on the gravestone was Mary!

TailyPo Scary Story

TailyPo is a creepy little horror story about a man who unwittingly steals something precious from a monstrous creature that just won’t let go!
The trials and tribulations of living in today’s modern society can tend to wear on your nerves. One can grow very weary of dealing with bills, taxes, insurance, traffic, and pollution; not to mention anything about keeping food in the refrigerator. Often times the whole thing can make you wanna holler, throw up both your hands!

And that’s exactly what old Bill Smith did. He gave up all the luxuries (and, if you ask me, some of the necessities) of modern life. He loaded up just the barest of essentials and his three hunting dogs into his truck and moved way up into the north Georgia mountains. Smitty (that’s what all of us folks in town called him) figured it wouldn’t be that much of an adjustment – after all, he did love hunting, fishing and the “Great Outdoors.” And he did have the companionship of his three best friends, his dogs Iknow, Youknow, and Comptiko Callico. What more could a man ask for?

Smitty built himself a nice little cabin way back in the woods. It wasn’t very big, but it was just enough for him. The cabin only had two rooms, one he used for a bedroom, and the other for every other room (living room, dining room, den and kitchen). He had built himself a nice big fireplace where he could cook his food and warm his body on chilly nights. He planted himself a nice little vegetable garden on the side of the house and would hunt and fish for most of his food. But at least once a month, he would drive the twenty-five miles down the mountain to the little store to buy those things that he couldn’t provide for himself. During the warm months, Smitty had no problem catching as much small game as he needed. But the colder months proved to be a little more difficult to keep his stomach full.
Well, it was on one of those cold wintry nights that Smitty went out to his storage shed to see what he could find for dinner. All he found was a small piece of fatback meat and a handful of rice. There was too much snow on the ground to travel the twenty-five miles to the store, so he had to make do with what he had. He ate the fatback and a little of the rice, but he gave most of the rice and the water where he had boiled the meat to his dogs. After all, they had to eat too! He called out, “Iknow, Youknow, Comtiko Callico, come on doggies and get you some of this here dinner!” And those dogs came running in as fast as they could and lapped up all of that rice mixture. Smitty was still a little hungry, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. So despite the protests of his grumbling stomach, Smitty stoked the fire in the fireplace to keep the cabin warm and he went to bed.
The sound of the wind blowing around (and in some places through) the tiny cabin had almost lulled Smitty to sleep, when he heard something. He opened his eyes and saw a shadow on the wall. He eased out of bed and tiptoed into the other room. There, he saw the oddest looking creature he had ever seen. It was short and stubby, with pointed ears and short fat feet with long claws, and it had a long bushy tail. There were no open doors or windows, so Smitty was confused as to how the funny looking thing had gotten in. Smitty quietly picked up his ax, crept over to the odd critter, who was devouring an insect of some sort, raised his ax, and came down squarely on the creatures tail!
Smitty turned to catch the varmint, but he was too quick. It hurriedly escaped — through the wall! So Smitty was left standing there with this long bushy tail and a blood-laden ax in his hand, and no sign of the funny looking creature.

Smitty was about to throw the old tail out the door, when his growling stomach reminded him of how hungry he still was. So he took that tail, cleaned it, cooked it with some of the herbs from his garden he had stored away, and ate it. It didn’t taste that bad –why, it kinda tasted like chicken! With his stomach finally full, Smitty got back into his warm cozy bed.
Smitty had just drifted off into a deep sleep when a strange sound awakened him. It sounded like something trying to scratch its way into the cabin — perhaps a raccoon. Smitty knew that if he stayed real quiet it would probably go away. So he stayed as quiet as he could, but then he heard a strange, otherworldy voice, which hissed, “TailyPo, I want my TailyPo!!” Smitty thought the wind was playing tricks on his ears, but he heard it again, “TailyPo, TailyPo, I want my TailyPo.”

Smitty jumped out of bed, flung open the door and called out to his dogs, “Iknow, Youknow, Comtiko Callico, come on over heayah and see what’s making that noise!” The dogs came running, barking and sniffing around, but they didn’t find anything at all. So Smitty put the dogs back outside and went back to bed.
Sleep had just eased itself into Smitty’s body when he heard the voice again. This time, the scratching sounded like it was at the window. Whatever it was, it really, really wanted to get in! But the scratching seemed to be on two walls at one time. Smitty called out, “Hey, hey, hey, who’s that at my door? Get on away from heyeah!” Then he heard the strange voice again, only this time a little louder: “TailyPo, TailyPo, I want my TailyPo. TailyPo,TailyPo, I’m comin’ to get my TailyPo!”
Old Smitty, who wasn’t one to frighten easily, was getting a little shaky — this was getting really weird. So he eased to the window and called, “Iknow, Youknow, Comtiko Callico, come on over heyeah and see what this is scratching at my house!” The three dogs bounded up to the porch and they sniffed around and barked, barked and sniffed, but they never found anything at all.
Smitty decided to stay up for the rest of the night to protect himself, his dogs and his little cabin. So he pulled a chair next to the fireplace, grabbed a blanket from his bed and settled in for the rest of the wind-chilled, wintry night. Sleep soon overtook him, and once again he dozed off.
It was almost dawn when Smitty woke with a start. The sound of scratching seemed to reverberate from every area of the cabin. Smitty searched frantically for his ax, his rifle, or something to defend himself with, but he was so frightened he couldn’t find anything. The scratching grew louder and louder and louder, and then the voice – “TailyPo, where is my TailyPo? Give me back my TailyPo!!”
Smitty yelled back, “Leave me alone, I ain’t got your TailyPo!” Then he called, “Iknow, Youknow, Comtiko Callico, come on in heyeah and protect your old master!” This time, the dogs didn’t come. So he called again, “Iknow, Youknow, Comtiko Callico, don’t you hear me calling you? Come here doggies!” He waited and waited, but still not one dog came running. Smitty had never been so scared in his life. He ran to his bed and jumped in. The scratching and the voice grew louder and louder and louder. Smitty yelled back as loud as he could, “I ain’t got no Taily-Po, so why don’t you leave me alone and go on about your business? I ain’t never hurt nobody or nothing, just leave me alone!”

The scratching seemed to be inside the house now and the voice was so loud it was deafening: “TailyPo, you took my TailyPo, and now I’m back to get it, give it to me NOW!!” Smitty pulled the cover up over his head and stayed as quiet as he could, but the scratching was now in his room! “TailyPo, you better give me back my TailyPo!” Smitty then felt the thing scratching up the bottom of the bed and onto the cover. Smitty eased the cover down to see what was steadily approaching. Then he saw it – a short, stubby creature with pointed ears, fat feet with long claws and bloodshot red eyes that glowed in the dark — eyes that seemed to burn straight through Smitty! Before he could pull the cover over his head again, the thing pounced on his chest, looked straight down at him and said, “You got my TailyPo, and you better give it back to me NOW!”

Smitty yelled, “I ate it! I ate your TailyPo, it’s gone!” And that thing started to scratch and claw and tear away at poor old Smitty, trying to get that TailyPo back. Smitty tried to fight back, but that thing was too strong and those claws were too sharp. Smitty’s screams echoed throughout the dark mountains, then stopped, leaving a chilling silence.
After a month or two without hearing from Smitty, the folks who owned the store at the base of the mountain went up to his cabin to make sure everything was alright. When they got there, they found his cabin torn to shreds, but no sign of Smitty or the dogs. They searched the woods and called for them, “Smitty, Iknow, Youknow, Comptiko Callico!” But they never found a thing.
As the search party was heading down the mountain, the wintry wind began to blow and a strange voice could be heard saying, “TailyPo, TailyPo. Now I’ve got my TailyPo!”
THE END
(pictures courtesy of children’s book illustrator Will Clay)

Shadow In The Mirror

The Shadow in the Mirror is a scary story about a girl who moves into a new house and begins to see things out of the corner of her eye.

There was once a woman who lived by herself in a quaint house in the country. Her husband had passed away about 5 years back and she was planning on moving soon. One day, while packing up some of her husbands things, she noticed that the temperature dropped really low. She walked down the hall to check the thermostat, but when she got there it showed no difference in temperature. She thought about it but figured that it must be broken. She decided that she would call someone the next day to fix it. When she passed the mirror on the wall on her way back she thought she saw a movement of shadows in the reflection. Then the temperature suddenly returned to normal and when she looked back at the mirror nothing was there. She shrugged and went back to packing.
A couple of days later the temperature dropped again. Again the woman went to the thermostat and again it showed no change. She remembered that she had forgotten to call someone to repair it. She promised herself that she would call after her show on T.V. that she had been watching. When she passed the mirror she again saw the movement of shadows. She stopped. In the reflection she saw a shadow, nothing but a shadow. Slightly translucent but visible. The shape was indescribable. It changed shape, like water flowing, about the size of a tall person. It stepped out from the wall behind the woman, but when she turned around to face it there was nothing there. Now she was scared. She began to tremble. Slowly she turned back to the mirror. The figure was still there, and closer. She screamed out “HEEEEELLPPP!!!” but no one came. Closer and closer IT came…
A few weeks later a friend of the woman’s stopped by to say Hello. She knocked and knocked but there was no answer. The next day a police officer came out to investigate, but he found nothing but a few empty boxes and the TV on. It was put down as an unsolved case. The house was soon cleaned out and put out on the market for sale.
For many years the house was empty, what with all of the stories going around about it. But one day a small family consisting of a mother, father and daughter moved from the city into the house.
All was well until one day the temperature dropped in the house. The daughter went to her parents and asked them what happened. They said they didn’t know and they went to the thermostat to see. It showed no change in temperature. They decided to call someone. The daughter went back to playing with her dolls in her room. Had she looked up into her mirror she would have seen a shadow peeking from behind the reflection of her bed. But just then her parents came in to tell her that someone was coming the next day to fix the thermostat and that she’ll have to deal with it for a while, but when they finished saying this the temperature went back to normal. The parents said never mind.
A few weeks later the temperature dropped again. The girl was brushing her hair at the time, in front of her mirror. She saw the shadow behind the reflection as it started to creep towards her. She screamed. Her parents came in asking what happened. She told them but they didn’t believe her. She tried to make them believe her but it was of no use. They took her to a psychologist to get her help.
When she came home she believed it was all a figment of her imagination. She probably would have kept believing that except that about a year later the temperature dropped once again. The girl was by herself because her parents had gone to the theatre and left her alone, since she was 13 years old. She was experimenting with make-up at the time, in front of her mothers mirror. She stared in terror as the thing crept out from behind the bed. She trembled but didn’t call out, she knew no one would come. And now, as it had done before, the thing came closer and closer, closer and closer…
When the girls parents came home they found the house empty. Their daughter was nowhere to be found. The Police report said another unsolved case. The house still stands to this day. And it’s still on the market if you want to buy it. It’s a bargain.

Corpse Bride Story

The Corpse Bride movie was inspired by an old story based on actual events that occurred in 19th century Russia, at a time when anti-semitism was widespread in eastern Europe. Very often gangs of thugs who hated Jewish people would attack a Jewish family on their way to a wedding.
Because the bride would be the one to bear future generations, she would be ripped out of the carriage and murdered. She would then be buried in her wedding gown.
This old ghost story inspired Tim Burton to write the script for his movie The Corpse Bride with Victor and Victoria. Here’s the original story:

The Corpse Bride

Once upon a time there was a young man who lived in a village in Russia. He was to be married and he and his friend prepared to go to the village where his bride-to-be lived, two days walk from his own village.
The first night the two friends decided to set up camp by a river. The young man who was going to be married spotted an unusual looking stick in the ground that looked like a bony finger. He and his friend started joking about this bony finger sticking out of the ground and the young man who was going to be married took the golden wedding ring from his pocket and put it on the strange-looking stick. And then he started to do the wedding dance around the stick; he danced around the stick with the golden wedding ring three times and he sang the Jewish wedding song, and recited the entire marriage sacrament as he danced around the stick, he and his friend laughing the whole time.
Their fun stopped suddenly when the earth started rumbling and shaking beneath their feet. The place where the stick had been opened up and a very bedraggled looking corpse emerged, a living corpse, she had been a bride, but now was barely more than a skeleton held together by shreds of skin, still wearing an old torn white silk wedding dress. Worms and spider webs hung on the once-beaded bodice and tattered veil.The two young men were aghast.”Ah,” she said, “you have done the wedding dance and pronounced the marriage vows and you have put a ring on my finger. Now we are man and wife. I demand my rights as your bride.”
Shuddering with terror at the corpse bride’s words, the two young men fled to the village where the young bride was waiting to be married. They went straight to the rabbi.”Rabbi,” asked the young man breathlessly, “I have a very important question to ask you. If by some chance you’re walking in the woods and you happen to see a stick that looks like a long bony finger coming out of the ground and you happen to put a golden wedding ring on the finger and do the wedding dance and pronounce the wedding vows, is this indeed a real marriage?”
Looking very puzzled, the rabbi asked, “Do you know of such a situation?”"Oh no, no, of course not, it’s just a hypothetical question.”Stroking his long beard thoughfully, the rabbi said, “let me think about it.” And just then, a big gust of wind blew the door open, and in walked the corpse bride. “I lay claim to this man as my husband, for he has placed this wedding ring on my finger and pronounced the solemn marriage vows,” she demanded, her bony finger rattling as she shook it at her intended brigegroom.
“This is indeed a very serious matter. I’ll have to consult with the other rabbis,” said the rabbi.Soon all the rabbis from the surrounding villages were gathered together. They went into conference, while the two young men anxiously awaited their decision. The corpse bride waited on the porch tapping her foot, declaring, “I want to celebrate my wedding night with my husband.”
These chilling words made every hair on the young man’s body stand on end, though it was a warm summer day.While the rabbis were conferring, the real human bride arrived and wanted to know what all the fuss was about. When her fiance explained just what had happened, she started weeping, “Oh, my life is ruined, all my hopes and dreams are shattered; I’ll never be married, never have a family.”
Just then the rabbis came out and asked: “Did you indeed put a gold ring on the finger, and did you dance around it three times and did you indeed pronounce the wedding vows in their entirety?” The two young men who by this time were cowering in a far corner nodded their heads.
Looking very serious the rabbis went back to confer again.And the young bride wept bitter tears, while the corpse bride was by now gloating at the prospect of her long awaited wedding night.After a short while the rabbis solemnly marched out, took their seats, and announced, “Since you put the wedding ring on the finger of the corpse bride and you danced around it three times reciting the wedding vows, we have determined that this constitutes a proper wedding ceremony. Even so, we have decided that the dead have no claim upon the living.”
Sighing and murmuring could be heard from all corners, the young bride was especially relieved.The corpse bride, however, howled, “Oh, there goes my last chance for a life; I’ll never have my dreams fulfilled now, it’s forever lost,” and she collapsed on the floor. It was a pathetic sight, a heap of bones in a tattered wedding gown, lying there, lifeless.
Overcome with compassion for the corpse bride, the young bride knelt down and gathered up that old heap of bones, carefully arranging the shredded silk finery and holding her close, half sang, half murmured, as if cradling a crying infant, “don’t worry I’ll live your dreams for you, I’ll live your hopes for you, I’ll have your children for you, I’ll have enough children for the two of us and you can rest in peace knowing that our children and our children’s children will be well cared for and will not forget us.”
Tenderly she closed the eyes of the corpse bride, tenderly she held her in her arms and slowly and with measured steps she marched down to the river with her fragile charge, took her down by the river where she dug a shallow grave for her and laid her in it and crossed the bony arms over the bony chest, the one hand clasping the one with the ring on it, and folded the wedding gown around her. Then she whispered, “May you rest in peace, I will live your dreams for you, don’t worry, we will not forget you.”
The corpse bride looked happy and at peace in her new grave, as if she somehow knew that she would be fulfilled through this young bride And the young bride covered up, slowly, the corpse bride, covered up the tattered wedding gown in the shallow grave, covered it all up with earth, then put wildflowers all over the grave and stones all around it.
Then the young bride went back to her fiance and they were married in a very solemn wedding ceremony and they lived many happy years together. And all their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren were always told the story of the corpse bride, and so she was not forgotten, nor was the wisdom and compassion she had taught them forgotten either.
The End

Soap

Soap Sally is a scary urban legend about an creepy old woman who kidnaps runaway children and turns them into Lye Soap.

There’s a legend in some regions of Appalachia about Soap Sally. Some people say she’s an old woman who wears too much make-up, and others say she’s an old man trying to pretend he’s an old woman.
According to the legend, Soap Sally stalks the area at dusk, looking for children who have run away from home. She grabs them by the hand, in a death-like grip and leads them off. And nobody ever sees them again.
People say she grinds up their bodies and turns the children into soap. There’s a special kind of soap called “Lye Soap” which was made years ago from the fat and bones of animals. Soap Sally uses the fat and bones of children to make her own special brand of soap. Some even say she made the soap to resemble children’s hands.
And when she’s done, they say she sells the soap to the parents of the missing children. The parents never realize that they are washing themselves with the remains of their own children.
Every time a child would go missing, two or three days later, Soap Sally could be seen, going from town to town, carrying a sack full of hand-made soap, selling it cheap to unsuspecting parents.
In past times, parents would warn their children about Soap Sally, saying, “If you don’t get home by dark, Soap Sally will get you,” or “stay away from those woods! Soap Sally will get you…”

Till Death Do Us Part

A newly married couple, Bill and Mable, bought a house in a nice secluded part of Maine. After they moved in, their neighbors came to visit and warned them that their house was haunted.

Bill and Mable disregarded the tall tales they heard from their neighbors. They didn’t believe in ghosts and weren’t about to start now, just because some silly neighbors believed in the paranormal.
But Mable was curious about the history of the house so she contacted the real estate agent and told him she had heard odd stories about the house being haunted.
The realtor said that, by law, he should have disclosed the history of the house. Apparently, there had been a string of horrible murders committed in the house years before by an insane serial killer. The murders were only discovered after the killer had died
He had been smoking in bed when he fell asleep and accidentally dropped the cigarette on his bedsheets. His bed caught fire and he burned alive without ever waking up. His corpse had lain undiscovered in the house for years. Eventually, the police had broken in and found his decomposing body lying in bed. They dug up the garden and found the remains of his victims.
The story unnerved Mable and she began having nightmares about the killer. She told her husband that she was beginning to believe that the stories of the haunting could be true. Mable frequently complained about the feeling that someone was in the room during the night and sometimes she would wake suddenly during the night, convinced that she had felt cold bony hands touching her.
Bill thought Mable was just being silly, but to keep his wife happy, he promised to stay up all night and keep watch over her. Bill was confident that if she woke up after feeling the cold bony hands, and nobody was there, she would realize that it was all in her imagination.
True to his word, Billy stayed up the whole night. Around midnight, the room began to feel uncomfortably warm and he was gripped by the feeling of an overwhelming thirst. Leaving Mable sleeping softly, he went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Upstairs, in the darkened bedroom, Mable awoke with a start. She heard footsteps outside the door and then someone came into the room. She assumed it was her husband, Bill. She leaned over in bed to give him a kiss but her lips touched something cold and bony.
Bill heard the most horrible screaming coming from Mable’s room.
He rushed upstairs and screamed in horror at what he found. Mable’s dead body lay stretched out on the bed. Her face was twisted in an expression of utter terror. Bill rushed downstairs and called the police.
Several nights later, Bill was finally sleeping peacefully, until around midnight. Again feeling very thirsty, he went downstairs and got a glass of water. When he went back upstairs, he was surprised to see a large lump in the bed. It was moving. He ran over and ripped off the bedsheets.
The ghost of Mable sat up in the bed. She had tears in her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow and sunken. The dark form of another man crouched beside her. A terrible skeletal man with the face of a dessicated corpse. The skeleton man clutched Mable’s head in his cold bony grasp and forced her to kiss him. Tears streamed down Mable’s face. In her hand, she held the biggest knife Bill had ever seen.
“Didn’t you promise Billy? Didn’t you promise? Till death do us part! You promised!”, screamed Mable, as she floated towards the frightened and paralyzed Bill.

Hand Of Glory

The Hand of Glory was a magic talisman used by superstitious thieves and robbers in the 18th Century. It was believed that a dead human hand, when fashioned into a candle, had supernatural powers. When it was lit, criminals believed that it could open doors and locks and put people into a deep sleep or completely paralyze them.

One moonless night, at the stroke of midnight, a thief slipped into the deserted courtyard and made his way to the hangman’s gallows. The corpse of a murderer was dangling from the noose, twisting in the wind. The thief took a sharp knife out of his pocket and, making sure nobody was watching, began sawing off the dead man’s hand. When his grisly task was finished, the thief wrapped the severed hand in a burial shroud and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he climbed up the gibbet and cut five locks of hair from the dead man’s head. Finally, he climbed down and disappeared into the night.
When he returned to his hideout, he began preparing the severed hand. First he squeezed it until all the blood was gone. Next, he dipped it in animal fat and left it out to dry in the mid-day sun. He twisted the locks of hair into candle wicks, dipped them in wax and allowed them to set. Then he screwed the wicks into the four fingers and the thumb of the dried hand. At last, the Hand of Glory was complete.
High on the windy hills of Yorkshire, on Bowes Moor, sat the Old Spital Inn. It was a stormy night in late October 1797. The landlord and his wife were preparing for bed. The butler and the cook were locking all the doors and windows when, suddenly, they heard a loud banging at the front door.
The curious little servant girl who slept in the kitchen was peering through a crack in the kitchen door. She wondered who would be visiting her master at this time of night. In the hallway, she saw her master and the butler greeting a bent and wizened old woman. She was dressed in a long cloak and a hood that obscured her face. Shivering and shaking from the cold and the rain, the beggar woman pleaded with the landlord to allow her to stay the night. Being a generous man, the landlord told her she could spend the night on a bench in front of the fire.
After the landlord, his wife, the butler and the cook had gone to bed, the little servant girl heard noises coming from the next room. Looking through the keyhole, she saw the old woman standing up and lifting up her cloak to reveal a big pair of men’s boots. Instantly, the servant girl became suspicious and decided to keep an eye on the stranger.
She saw the old woman pulling off her hood to reveal the scarred and embittered face of a hardened criminal. From beneath his cloak, the thief took out a grotesque severed hand and placed it on the bench. Then he lit the stiff bony fingers of the hand. The terrified servant girl watched in horror as she heard the thief reciting an ancient spell.
All those who isten, and in this house dwell
Hear ye the words of the Dead Man’s spell!
Unlock every lock at the Dead Man’s knock
Open bolt and band with the Dead Man’s hand!
Sleep all who sleep! Let none here awake!
Sleep like the dead for the Dead Man’s sake!
The thief finished his incantation and the fingers of the severed hand glowed with an intense, brilliant light. Each finger flamed, but the thumb would not light. The thief hadn’t seen the little servant girl and thought there were only four people in the house, so he gave up trying to light the thumb.
Instead, he went to the door and opened it, letting in two other men who were lurking outside. Gathering around the flaming hand, the thieves began murmuring over and over, “Hand of Glory shining bright, lead us to our spoils tonight”.
While the thieves were busy filling their sacks with valuables, the frightened little servant girl tip-toed into the butler’s quarters and tried to wake him up and alert him to the danger. But no matter what she tried, she could not shake him from his deep slumber. Then she went into the cook’s bedroom and tried to wake her, but it was no use. Finally, she slipped up the stairs and went into the landlord’s bedroom. She found her master and his wife lying in bed, their eyes wide open, staring lifelessly into space. They seemed to be in some sort of trance.
The little girl realized that the Hand of Glory must have cast some sort of spell over the household, so she crept down the stairs again, grabbed the flaming hand and brought it into the kitchen. She took a deep breath and tried to blow out the burning fingers, but she couldn’t extinguish them. Suddenly, she had an idea. Grabbing a jug of skimmed milk that was sitting on the table, she poured it over the grotesque hand. The milk quenched the burning wicks and the spell was broken.
She was able to creep upstairs again and rouse the landlord and his wife. Then she shook the butler and the cook until they were wide awake.
The landlord came running downstairs with a pistol in his hand as the cook and the butler stumbled wearily out of their rooms, rubbing their heads. They were able to surprise the thieves and forced them out the front door at gunpoint. Then they slammed the door behind them and locked it.
The thieves began to circle the house and banged on the windows and doors.
“Gives us back our hand of glory”, they exclaimed. “Just give us the hand and we will go away quietly, and do no harm to anyone.”
The landlord knew the thieves were lying so he threw open his bedroom window and began firing his pistol into the darkened street. The screams and cries of the robbers echoed through the darkness as they fled into the night.
In the morning, a pool of blood was found outside on the cobble stones. The little servant girl was able to identify the thieves and helped the police track them down. The whole gang was caught and tried for their crimes. They were sentenced to death and hanged on the gallows until they were dead. The Hand of Glory was confiscated by the police.
Their corpses were left hanging from the gibbet overnight and when the police returned in the morning, they were shocked to discover that someone had stolen in during the night and cut off all of the dead men’s hands.

Big Bear Cabin

Big Bear Cabin is a scary campfire story about a group of boyscouts who go on a camping vacation in a mountain resort near an old lodge. Around a campfire, they hear a tale of terror about an indian chief who lost his head.

Big Bear Cabin

The troop of boyscouts were nearing the summit of the mountain. Just at the edge of a clearing, they found a secluded area where they could make camp. There was an old lodge cabin, that stood out in the snow. They found an old stove inside the cabin and hoped that they could use it for cooking. That way, they wouldn’t have to resort to cooking their sausages and beans on an open campfire. So they all pitched their tent beside the cabin and cooked a big meal.
That night, as they ate around a fire ouside the cabin, their scout master told them a story about the history of the area.
Many years ago, he said, the land was sacred hunting ground for an Indian tribe. The game in this field was always plentiful until a white man, a fur trapper, came and built the cabin at the summit of the mountain.
The chief of the tribe was an indian brave named Big Bear and he was enraged at this encroachment. Big Bear decided that they would have to find a way to get rid of the intruder.
The Indian chief had seen the trapper in the cabin, and knew that he was an old man and didn’t have any weapons, so instead of harming him, he decided to scare him away instead. The Indian warrior crept up to the house and tap-tap-tapped on the wall.
This attracted the attention of the trapper, who came outside to investigate. But finding nothing there, he went back to his work in his cabin, skinning rabbits with his pocket-knife. Again the Indian tap-tap-tapped on the wall and frightened the trapper. When the trapper came out to investigate the noise, the Indian was hiding in a bush nearby. This cat and mouse game went on for the majority of the night.
The trapper was becoming very afraid of this mystery noise. He decided if he couldn’t figure out what was making the noise, he would leave in the morning and never return.
He kept a big axe mounted on the chimney over the stove in his cabin. It was used for chopping firewood but he thought he may need it for protection as well. So he took it down from the chimney and waited for the tapping sound.
The next time Big Bear tap-tap-tapped on the wall, the trapper was creeping out of the cabin. As the Indian darted away to hide, he ran right into the trapper. The old man was too surprised to think and swung the axe at the shadowy thing coming towards him. He decapitated the Indian with a single chop. Big Bear’s headless body stumbled forward before it crumpled to the ground at the trapper’s feet.
The Indian’s severed head flew through the air with the force of the blow and became lodged in the chimney of the cabin.
When the trapper went back into his cabin and began cleaning his axe, he again heard a gentle tap-tap-tapping. This time it seemed to be coming from inside his cabin. It went on for hours until he peered up the chimney and saw the Indian’s bloody head staring back at him. The blood was dripping down the chimney and making a tap-tap-tapping noise on the stone floor.
When the other Indians saw how easily the old white man had conquered their chief, they banned all people in the tribe from setting foot in their sacred hunting ground. To ensure this, the medicine man called on the spirit of the headless indian chief to guard the land. It is said that on dark rainy nights, Big Bear the indian warrior can still be heard prowling around the old cabin, tapping on the wall and looking for his head.
“And that”, said the scout master “is why they call it Big Bear Cabin”.
Once the scout master had finished the story, all of the boyscouts were afraid to go to sleep. The boys all lay awake in their tent, thinking about the story of the trapper and the headless Indian. The scout master tried to tell them it was just a legend, that there was nothing to be afraid of, but the boys couldn’t get the story of Big Bear out of their heads.
Just after midnight, as some of the scouts were managing to fall asleep, one of them thought he heard a faint tap-tap-tapping sound. He told the scount master who didn’t believe him. When more and more of the boys said they heard the sound, the scout master was forced to get dressed and investigate.
Reluctantly, he unzipped the door of the tent, got out and walked around the cabin, listening for the noise. The scouts all stayed in the tent waiting for him to come back. The tap-tap-tapping sound got louder and louder. The scout master went into the cabin and realised the sound was coming from the area of the stove. Slowly, he kneeled down and peered up the chimney.
The scouts heard a yell and then a dull thud. Then nothing. They waited for seconds that seemed like hours and then there was a rustling at the door of the tent. Something was unzipping the tent door. Frightened, the boys grabbed anything they could to use as a weapon.
They were relieved when the zipper of the tent was pulled down and they saw their scout master’s uniform. But the relief only lasted a second. The scout master dropped to his knees and the boys realised that he was missing his head.
The End

Curse of the Werewolf

The Curse of the Werewolf is an old urban legend about a priest who discovered a werewolf while travelling in Ireland. This tale inspired Stephen King to write the novella “Cycle of the Werewolf” which was later turned into a movie called Silver Bullet.

The Curse of the Werewolf

The story begins with a priest from a thriving village in Ireland who was travelling to a nearby town on business for his church. The priest’s journey across the countryside was long and arduous and as night grew near, he was forced to set up camp beside a dark forest that was reputed to be haunted.
During the night, the priest heard a clawing and scratching outside his tent. When he went out to investigate, he was attacked by a wolf.
He was bitten severely and just as he thought the wolf was about to finish him off, the cross around his neck was exposed. The wolf stopped and merely stood over him staring into his eyes. Suddenly, it ran off and left him lying on the ground bleeding badly.
The next day he managed to crawl back to his village, where he was attended by the local doctor. His wounds soon healed and he was back to work.
But although his body was healed, his mind was plagued by strange dreams in which he transformed into a wolf and roamed the local countryside. In these dreams, his hunger was fierce and the dreams became steadily more vivid and violent.
Despite the terrible dreams, the Priest was re-energised and tackled his preaching duties with renewed vigour. He inspired the village and helped them to rebuild the houses that were burned to the ground. The faith of his parishioners was strengthened and every day his church was packed with worshippers.
But there were still problems in the village. Every full moon, someone in the village was found dead or missing. People said that they had seen a creature stalking through the village at night. A creature that walked like a man but whose body was covered in fur and bore the head of a wolf. There was talk of a curse on the village and many believed that a werewolf was stalking them and picking them off one by one.
The Priest found that he had these murderous dreams every night a villager was killed. He began to wonder why he was cursed with these horrible visions of death and destruction.
One night, during a full moon, the villagers resolved to catch and kill the werewolf that was plagueing their village once and for all. They set a trap by tying the most beautiful girl in the village to a tree, using her as bait to lure the werewolf. Up in the branches they set up a trap to catch the wolf. Then they hid in the trees and lay in wait.
Soon they heard a crashing coming through the forest and the werewolf appeared in the clearing. The villagers cut the ropes tied to the tree and a huge cage crashed down on top of the wolf, trapping him before he could get to the girl.
The villagers rushed out from their hiding places and drove long spears into the body of the werewolf, killing him instantly. As the monster collapsed on the floor of the cage, the people watched his hairy body ripple and change.
Gradually, the creature changed from wolf to man as the life ebbed from his body. The villagers fell to their knees and began to weep as they realised that they had killed their beloved priest.

Japanese Demons

Japanese demons and ghosts from ancient mythology. I will probably write longer, individual pages about these monsters and creatures at a later time. But for the moment, here are some short descriptions of these evil spirits.

Hone-onna

Hone-onna is a skeleton woman. She hides her frightening form by keeping her back to you, but when she turns, you realize she has no face, just a bare skull. She tries to lure unwitting men into falling asleep and then, she sucks the life force out of them.

Kitsune

Kitsune is an evil spirit with the head of a fox. It disguises itself as a beautiful woman and tries to trick human beings into marrying it. If you are unlucky enough to marry Kitsune, it will feed on your life essense while you are asleep.

Shinigami

Shinigami is the Japanese version of the grim reaper. He usually appears to a dying person and brings them to the land of the dead.

Wanyudo

Wanyudo is a strange evil spirit who guards the gates of hell. He appears as a severed head on a burning wheel. He enjoys scaring people and stealing their souls whenever they come close to him.

Ningyo

Ningyo is the Japanese version of the mermaid. Instead of being beautiful, Ningyo is a creepy woman who has fish scales for skin, a face like an ape and razor-sharp teeth like a pirahna. If you’re out fishing and you catch Ningyo on your hook, you must immediately toss her back into the sea or else your family members will suffer epic misfortune or even death. If you cook and eat Ningyo, you will remain beautiful and youthful for all eternity… but your family will die.

Akaname

Akaname is a hideous creature that looks like a frog with a very long tongue. It has a single claw on each foot. He lurks in filthy bathrooms at night and licks the poop off the toilet and the floor. If you encounter him, he will use that same tongue to lick your face. Eeeeew.

Nurikabe

Nurikabe is an evil spirit who appears in the shape of a wall. He has the ability to stretch endlessly and loves to play tricks on travellers. He stretches out and blocks the roads to prevent the travellers from going through. The only way you can get through is to kick the lower area of Nurikabe to make him disappear.

Pale Man

The Pale Man in Pan’s Labyrinth is based on Tenome, an old Japanese legend. Tenome was a blind man who was beaten up and murdered by a mugger. He returned as a ghost, but his desire for revenge was so great that his blind eyes were gone, and instead, he grew new eyes in his hands.

Now the Pale Man roams through cities and villages, searching for the mugger who murdered him. He sees by waving his hands in front of him.
But Tenome never saw the face of his attacker and simply kills whoever he can get his hands on. Although he has eyes in his hands, he is still figuratively blinded by his anger.

Snake Woman

The Snake Woman or “Nure Onna” is a japanese urban legend about a vicious dragon-like creature with the head of a woman and the body of an enormous snake. She has creepy snake-like eyes, long scaly arms that end in claws, sharp fangs and long, beautiful hair.

The Snake Woman haunts the shoreline and preys on unsuspecting swimmers and fishermen. When she spots her prey, she rises from the water and paralyzes her victim with her eyes. She then uses her long, snake-like tongue to suck all the blood out of her victim’s body.
Despite her incredible length, Nure Onna can hide in deceptively shallow pools of water. She has even been known to use her beautiful face and hair to lure swimmers to their deaths. She bobs her head on the surface of the water and flaps her arms, pretending to be a drowning woman. When someone dives in to save her, she rises up, snatches them with her claws and drags them down to the murky depths.
Once she has you in her sights, it is difficult to escape the grasp of the Snake Woman. She can suddenly spring great distances to grab you, so the best way to protect yourself against her is to avoid walking alone on the beach at night.

Kittens

Kittens is a creepy story about a little girl who wondered what happened to all her pet cat’s babies.

When a little girl’s cat had kittens they disappeared, after a couple of days, she asked her mother what happened to them and her mother said “God took them.”
Months later the cat again had a litter of kittens. Her mother sent her out to run some errands, but, before she left, she wanted to play with the kittens again. She heard her father coming carrying a bucket and hid from him. She watched while her father put the kittens in a sack and drowned them in the bucket. Later the girl again asked her mother what happened to the kittens. Her mother said “God took them.”
Several days later the mother asked the girl to watch her brother in the bath tub while she answered the phone. When the mother returned, she started screaming “What happened to him? What happened to him?”
The little girl told her “God took him.”

Bad Dream

Bad Dream is a short creepy tale about a little girl who had a nightmare.

A little girl opened the door to her parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night.
“Daddy, I had a bad dream”, she said.
Her father blinked his eyes and sat up in bed, leaning on his elbows. The digital alarm clock glowed red in the darkness. It was 3:23 AM.
“Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?” he asked.
“No, Daddy.” came the reply.
The oddness of the situation made him wake up more fully. He could barely make out his daughter’s pale form, outlined in the light from the doorway.
“Why not, sweetie?” he asked.
The little girl began to cry. “Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up.” she whined.
For a moment, he felt paralyzed, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. Then he felt the covers behind him beginning to shift…

Junk Car

Junk Car is a ghost story about a 16 year old boy named Arthur who had just completed his driving test and got his driving licence in the mail. The only problem was that he didn’t own a car.

His older brother Vince had a beat up old junk car that he bought for a few dollars from a dealer who was about to sell it for scrap metal. The car was in bad condition, but at least it was road-worthy. Vince took great care of the car. It was his prized posession, but no matter how much Arthur begged and pleaded, his older brother would never let him drive it.
A few months later, Vince joined the army and just before he went to boot camp, Arthur asked him if he could drive the car while he was away. His older brother thought it over and agreed to let the younger boy use the car, but only under two conditions.
As he handed over the keys, Vince made Arthur promise never to drink and drive, never to go over 60 miles per hour, and never ever to smoke cigarettes in the car. The younger brother was eager to get to use the car so he agreed to all three conditions even though he wondered why his brother was so obsessed with taking care of a junk car.
Six months later, Arthur’s family received a terrible letter in the mail. It informed them that their son Vince had been killed in action in Iraq. Arthur’s parents were devastated by the news, but it hit Arthur even harder. He started to go a little crazy.
Every morning, he took off from the house in the junk car, full of anger and rage. He ditched school, bought alcohol and just drove and drove, not caring where he was headed. And as he drove aimlessly around the countryside, he started drinking and chain smoking. He became reckless, driving as fast as the car could go.
One night, as he was driving drunk down a lonely country road, he dropped his cigarette in his lap. He jumped, trying to find the smouldering cigarette butt and took his eyes off the road. Big mistake. The car hit a slick spot in the road and spun full around twice before the front tire caught and flipped the car over into the ditch.
When Arthur woke up, he couldn’t remember where he was. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious but he could feel someone tapping him on the shoulder. Groggily, he looked around and saw his brother Vince staring at him and yelling over and over “Get out of my car. Get out of my car”.
Confused, Arthur reached in his shirt pocket and took out a cigarette and his lighter. He put the cigarette in his mouth, but his older brother leaned over and blew out the flame. Every time he tried to light the cigarette, his big brother blew it out, until eventually, Arthur gave up.
Then he heard sirens and voices shouting and someone was dragging him out of the car. They lifted him up, put him on a stretcher and loaded him into the back of an ambulance. A policeman beside him reached over and yanked the cigarette from his lips.
“Son, I wouldn’t do that”, said the policeman. “When you crashed, the gas tank in your car split open. You’re completely drenched in gasoline. If you lit that cigarette, you would have been burned alive.”

Milk Bottles

Milk Bottles is a ghost story about a shopkeeper who encountered a very mysterious customer late at night with a strange obsession with bottles of milk.

One evening, the shopkeeper was about to close up for the night when he realized there was still one customer left in his store. It was a pale and thin young woman in a filthy dress. She was standing silently in the corner, and seemed to be waiting for him to notice her.
The shopkeeper asked the young woman what he could do for her. She would not look him in the eye and, without a word, stepped forward to the counter. She extended her arm and pointed at the refrigerator behind the counter where the storekeeper kept his milk bottles.
The storekeeper picked up a bottle of milk and set it upon the counter. The girl pointed again to the refrigerator, so he removed a second bottle of milk and set it on the counter as well.
Suddenl;y, the shopkeeper heard something fall off a shelf behind him. When he turned back around, he was shocked to see the young woman had disappeared, along with the two bottles of milk. He checked the door of his shop and found it was still locked. Then he searched around the store, but there was no sign of the mysterious woman.
The next day, just at closing time, the young woman in the filthy dress appeared again, almost out of nowhere. One moment the store was empty and the next moment she was standing at the counter pointing at the refrigerator. This time two empty milk bottles sat on the counter.
The storekeeper looked into her hollow eyes and saw streaks and stains from many tears making paths in the dirt on her face. He was a compassionate and generous man and he knew that this young woman was in need of help. So he took two new bottles of milk and set them on the counter for her. Then he turned his back to allow the poor young woman an opportunity to leave without having to pay. He never heard the door open or close, but when he turned around again, she was gone.
On the third day the storekeeper was determined to find out who this woman was and what her circumstances might be. It was possible he could give her husband a small job sweeping out the store or stocking the shelves. H
Again, just before closing time, the young woman appeared out of nowhere and stood pointing at the refrigerator. The storekeeper put two more bottles of milk on the counter and tried to ask the woman some questions. Just as he was about to speak, the cash register drawer flew open and fell to the floor. When the storekeeper looked up again, the woman had gone.
This time he was determined to find out more about her, so he locked up the store and took off down the road leading out of town. He caught a glimpse of her up ahead as she turned off the road and walked down an old overgrown path. He followed her, creeping through the woods until the path led him to the town cemetery. The cemetery gate stood open and he heard a strange sound coming from inside. He followed the sound deeper and deeper into the cemetery until he reached the newest graves.
Now he could hear the sound clearly. It was the distinct sound of a baby crying. What terrified him was that it was coming from beneath him. Standing over a fresh grave with no headstone to mark it, he could plainly hear the cries of a baby growing louder and louder.
Grabbing a nearby shovel he began to excavate the shallow grave and soon reached a wooden coffin. Falling to his knees and scraping the dirt aside, he tore open the coffin’s lid.
There before him lay the dead body of a young woman. The same young woman in the torn and filthy dress who had visited his store three times. Her skin was grey and her eyes were just hollow sockets, and in her arms was a cold and hungry baby, still alive and crying. And in the coffin beside the baby stood two empty milk bottles.

Three Wishes

Three Wishes is a spooky little story about an old man who encounters an old hag that grants him 3 wishes.

An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn’t sure of which direction to go, and he’d forgotten both where he was traveling to. He also couldn’t remember who he was.
He sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. Her skin was wrinkled and grey and her nose was crooked. Warts covered her hairy chin.
She grinned toothlessly and said with a cackle, “Now your third wish. What will it be?”
“Third wish?” The man was baffled. “How can it be three wishes if I haven’t had a first and second wish?”
“You’ve had two wishes already,” the old hag said, “but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That’s why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes.” She cackled at the poor man. “So it is that you have one wish left.”
“All right,” he said hesitantly, “I don’t believe this, but there’s no harm in trying. I wish to know who I am.”
“Funny,” said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. “That was your first wish…”

Combat Medic

The Combat Medic is a creepy tale about weird events that occurred during the Battle of the Bulge at the end of World War II.

In the winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a combat medic in the German army had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment was a bloodbath. Those who survived claimed to have heard, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with an almost otherworldly glee.
The combat medic had made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never had he been this short on supplies. No matter. He would do his duty. He had always prided himself on his resourcefulness.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, and most men dropped off to sleep in the dark, still hours of the morning – New Year’s Day, 1945. The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, yet there had been no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood.
The combat medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, and tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal that large patches of his skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body was almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial. None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.

Prisoner Of War

During the Vietnam war a soldier faithfully wrote letters home to his mother every week so she would know he was all right. But one week she didn’t get a letter and immediately began to worry. Within a couple of weeks she got a letter from the Army saying that her son’s plane had been shot down over North Vietnam.

Her son had been captured and was being held in a Vietnamese Prisoner-of-War camp. They assured her that her son was in good health and that they had no reason to believe the American POWs were being mistreated in any way.
A few weeks later the woman finally received a letter from her son. It read: “Dear Mom, Try not to worry about me, they are treating us well and I’ll be released as soon as the war is over. Make sure that little Teddy gets the stamp for his stamp collection. Your loving son, John”
The woman was overjoyed to hear the news, but was confused because she had no idea who “little Teddy” was. She decided to steam the stamp off the envelope and have a look. When she peeled back the stamp, she saw there was a small message scrawled on it in tiny misshapen writing. It read: “They’ve cut off my hands!”

Butcher Shop

The Butcher Shop is a scary tale about a young woman who does a favor for a blind man and almost gets more than she bargained for in return.

A young woman was walking down the street, when she saw an old blind man coming towards her. He was stooped over and wore dark glasses and a cane. He seemed to be having trouble walking and when he was passing by her, he almost fell over.
She grabbed his arm and steadied him and he thanked her for her kindness. Then he asked the young woman if she could do a favor for him.
“Could you please deliver this letter for me” the blind man said. “I’m old and disabled and I have a terrible time finding my way around the city.”
Being a nice person, the girl agreed to help him and he handed her a letter with an address scrawled on the front. As the young woman turned to walk away, she happened to glance back and saw the blind man walking down the street quite quickly, with his cane tucked under his arm. Then, to her surprise, the blind man took off his dark glasses and casually tossed them into a garbage can.
Suspicious, the woman took the envelope to a nearby police station. The police went to the address on the letter, which turned out to be a butcher shop owned by an old couple. All seemed perfectly ordinary until the police asked the old couple to open the large refrigerator in the back of the shop. The old couple refused so the police had to break it open themselves.
Inside, they were confronted by a horrible scene. There were dead bodies strung up on meat hooks and shelves stacked high with chunks of human flesh.
Until now, the police had overlooked the letter which the mysterious blind man had given the woman. When they opened the envelope, a piece of paper inside contained one chilling line:
“This is the last one I’m sending you today”.

Keyhole

Keyhole is a creepy story about a man who stayed in a strange hotel and encountered something very odd indeed.

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.
The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.
He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was red. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.
At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, “Did you look through the keyhole?” The man told her that he had and she said, “Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.”

Gecko

Gecko is a scary story about a young man who buys a new pet and gets more than he bargained for.

There was a young man in his twenties, who moved into a new apartment in New York City. The night he moved in, he was lying awake in bed when he heard strange noises coming from his kitchen. When he turned on the lights, he was horrified to see hundreds of tiny cockroaches scurrying under the refrigerator and kitchen cupboards. He realized that his apartment was completely infested with cockroaches.
The next day, he asked one of his co-workers for advice about his cockroach problem. The co-worker said she had a similar problem and bought a pet gecko. She let the gecko loose at night and it took care of all the cockroaches.
That evening, after work, the young man visited a pet store and bought a pet gecko. When he got home, he let the gecko go out of its cage. It immediately scurried into the kitchen and disappeared under the refrigerator. Then he heard a “Gecko-Gecko” sound followed by a loud “Snap” as the gecko’s tongue caught hold of a cockroach and pulled it back into its mouth.
Days went by, and Howard saw fewer and fewer cockroaches. The gecko was doing its job well. Occasionally he would hear the tell-tale “Snap” of the gecko’s tongue and he knew it was catching the cockroaches and gobbling them up.
One day after work, he was making dinner for himself when he saw the gecko chase one of the last cockroaches on the house under the refrigerator. He saw the cockroach scurry under it with the gecko far behind struggling to go under. That’s when the young man realized that the gecko was getting bigger.
He didn’t see the gecko for days after that. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. Each time, it appeared to be bigger and bigger. One night, as he was lying in bed, he heard some strange noises in his room. Then he heard “Gecko, Gecko” and a loud “Snap!”
The next day, the young man was absent from work, but nobody thought anything of it. They just assumed he wasn’t feeling well and decided to take a sick day. When he didn’t show up the next day, or the next, his co-workers became very concerned and called the police. When the police knocked on the young man’s door, they got no answer. They broke down the door and entered the apartment.
In the bedroom, they found no traces of the young man, but were horrified to see an enormous gecko sitting on the bed. Its belly was huge and stretched and it just lay there lazily, regarding them with its big reptilian eyes. When they looked closer, they noticed something horrible. Sticking out of the corner of its mouth, there appeared to be a human foot.

Mudhouse Mansion

Mudhouse Mansion is a haunted house located outside Lancaster, Ohio. According to locals in Lancaster, the house was built in the early 1800s by a government official who lived there after the Civil War. The man still kept slaves in Mudhouse Mansion, even though it was illegal. It seems this man didn’t abide by the law and kept his slaves locked up in an outbuilding at night.

He treated his slaves very poorly and conditions were so bad that one slave started building a tunnel underneath the wall of the outbuilding. He dug a little every night after the lights in the mansion had gone out and the slaveowner and his family had gone to sleep. Eventually his tunnel was completed and he squeezed himself down the small opening and came up on the other side of the wall.
In the dead of night, he crept towards the mansion, slipped the lock on the back door, tip-toed up the staircase and killed everyone inside. In the morning, locals discovered what had happened, but all the slaves had escaped and no-one was ever charged with the crime.
The house lay vacant for years afterwards and neighbors heard strange groans and shrieks coming from within the empty mansion. Everyone believed it was haunted by the ghosts of the slaveowner and his family. Nobody dared to enter the menacing looking building.
According to local legend, a man actually did buy the house in 1892 and moved in with his wife and their 3 children. Neighbors saw the family moving in, unloading their belongings from trucks and carrying them into the house.
And then… nothing. Neighbors never saw them again. The family never left the house. Neighbors thought it was very odd for a family of 5 to spend all their time indoors.
When one neighbor looked out her bedroom window, all she could make out was the figure of a woman, dressed all in white, standing at the second floor window. The figure wasn’t doing anything, just standing there, staring at her.
When the neighbor looked again, the following day, she saw the figure again, standing in the same position. Every day, whenever the neighbor looked at Mudhouse Mansion, the figure was always there. Standing in exactly the same position.

On the 10th day, she called the police and asked them to investigate. When policemen broke into the mansion and climbed the stairs to the second floor, they were greeted by a terrible sight.
All 5 family members were hanging lifeless from the ceiling. They were all dressed in white nightgowns. It appeared that they had taken their own lives. The figure the neighbor had seen was the mother of the family. And she hadn’t been standing at the window, she had been hanging there… for 10 whole days.

After that, nobody would live in the house and it has remained vacant to this day. People still come to visit the old mansion but the current owner will not allow anyone to enter the property. She is afraid that if anyone goes in, they will never come out alive.
Local children call it “Mary’s House” and tell each other that the famous Bloody Mary of legend grew up there. People who live in the area say that on cold dark nights, you can sometimes still see the figure of a woman, all in white, standing motionless at the second floor window.