Short stories to chill your blood! Vengeful spirits, carnivorous toddlers, haunting dreams, curses, experiments gone terribly wrong and much more! Turn the page if you dare and prepare for a scare!
Once there was an old witch who was discovered living in a small one-room cottage near the banks of the Hudson River. A trial was held and the old woman was sentenced to death by hanging. At her execution she swore revenge. With her dying breath, she put a curse on the local schoolhouse. The school was closed and since that time, nobody was willing to venture inside. The youth of the community would dare each other to spend the night in the haunted old building but they were all too afraid of what may lay in wait for them. And so the building sat.
It was a hot August afternoon. Chris Bradbury had just moved to the town. He told his mother that he was going to the park to play ball with his new friends, but he was really going there to read. He hadn't made any friends since they moved there.
At the park, Chris stared at a small group of boys playing catch with a baseball and sighed. To his surprise, one of them asked him if he wanted to join them. They played ball until it began to get dark. Chris was supposed to be home by seven o'clock. It was already six forty-five! He decided it was time to leave.
The boys walked Chris back to his house. They were out front and he was about to go inside when the boy named Brian stopped him. "Oh Chris," he shouted. "A couple of the guys and I are going camping in the woods tomorrow night. Ask your mom and see if you can go with us," he said. Then he said goodbye and scampered off into the darkening night. Chris waited until his mother came home to ask her and she said yes. Chris couldn't wait.
The next day was an exciting one. Chris eagerly packed the things he would need for that night. He packed a sleeping bag, a flashlight, some snacks and a few other things he decided to bring along. Brian called and told him he wouldn't need a tent, so he didn't bother to pack that. Just as he finished packing, the doorbell announced the arrival of Brian. "All set?" he asked. "You bet," Chris replied. "Ok then, let's go!"
They arrived at the campsite in less than ten minutes. Three other boys were already waiting. Their names were Kevin, Brad, and Jamal. "Do you want to be a member of our little group?" asked Brian. "Yeah!" replied Chris, a little too eagerly, causing the other boys surrounding him to snicker. "Shut up you guys!" said Brian. Then turning back to Chris, he added, "Do you know about the old witch's curse?" Chris said he didn't, so Brian explained.
"There was an old witch that lived here long ago. She was discovered and her trial was lost. She was hanged." "Okay, I do know that part," interrupted Chris. "Well," continued Brian. "You want to be in our group? Here is what you have to do. Follow that path to the center of the woods. There is an old building there that the old witch cursed right before she died. You have to spend the night inside," finished Brian. "All you have to do is put your sleeping bag in the middle of the room and sleep," said Jamal. "Simple." "Okay," replied Chris. "That seems simple enough," he added, though he silently had his doubts.
Chris followed the path that Brian indicated through the dense forest for fifteen minutes. He finally arrived at the building after walking for what seemed like hours. There was an old weather-beaten sign that read, "Schoolhouse" A school, thought Chris. Give me a break.
Chris did as Jamal had instructed. He settled himself into his sleeping bag and pulled a book on the town's history out of his knapsack that he had borrowed from the library. He wanted to find out if the stories he had heard were true. If not, he wouldn't have to worry. There were many witch stories and all of them were true. Finally, he found what he'd been looking for. In the back of the book was the story of the witch's curse on the school.
It said that if any child were to set foot inside the old schoolhouse, they would never be seen or heard from again. The townsfolk just assumed that the children would be killed. No one was ever brave enough to go into the building and find out what evil lurked there. Folklore told of stories the children made up about the Children-eaters, citing them as tiny monsters which could camouflage into their surroundings, waiting to swarm their victim and eat them alive while they watch.
Chris finished reading the article and shuddered at the thought of being eaten alive. He tried not to picture what it would be like to watch yourself being eaten. Unfortunately, the picture kept seeping back into his mind.
In the middle of the night, after he fell asleep with the book open on his chest, Chris felt a strange tickling sensation on the bottom of his foot. He twitched but the tickling would just start again, moments later. He cracked open an eye but saw nothing. Shrugging, he nestled deeper into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes once more. Then his head began to itch. And his arm. He reached up to scratch his ear and his fingers began to tingle. Withdrawing them from his hair, he looked down.
His hand seemed to be alive with millions of tiny creatures. Their skin matched his own. Only the crawling movement gave any indication that there was something there. Chris shrieked and jumped out of his sleeping bag, batting at the nearly microscopic creatures. However it was no use and the creatures enveloped him.
After that night, nobody ever saw Chris Bradbury again. People had theories but the police dismissed Chris as a runaway and the case was closed. Some people say he was eaten alive by the Children-eaters. Others believe that he is alive somewhere but is insane. Brian, Brad, Jamal, and Kevin swore that he never showed up to meet them that night.
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This story has been dedicated on Wattpad to Bloody--mascara for being the first to comment on my work here. She also earned mention on my facebook page and a permanent home on my website, both which have links to her work. Thank you Bloody--mascara for your kind words.
