Spooky Stories
(these are the ones you sit around the campfire late at night,
set the mood, and tell)
The hook
A young couple out on a date parked along an old country road to be alone.
They were listening to the car radio and kissing and hugging. Suddenly the
music was interrupted by a news bulletin.
"A convicted murderer has escaped from a hospital for the criminally insane.
The man was mutilated in a car wreck following a high-speed chase and is
missing his right hand. A temporary hook has been attached to his right arm,
which will make him easier to identify. The criminal's name is... "
The boy turned the radio off. He leaned over to his girlfriend,
expecting that the frightening news flash would make her snuggle
even closer. Instead, she was so scared that she didn't want to
make out anymore.
"I'm afraid," she said. "Let's get out of here."
The boy tried and tried to convince her that they were in no danger,
but she refused to listen. He decided that maybe she didn't like him
as much as he had thought, and was just using this as an excuse.
The girl reached over and locked her door as the boy angrily
started the car.
Just at that moment, they heard a thud on the passenger side of the car.
The boy slammed the car into drive and spun out onto the road. The girl
screamed and held onto the boy as they fish-tailed around the road.
On the way back to town they both calmed down, but the girl still
held on so tightly that the boy decided he had been wrong about her
after all. As they came closer and closer to her house, he tried to think
of a way to impress her.
They pulled up in front of the house and the boy said, "I'll make sure
it's safe first."
He left the keys in the ignition but locked the door as he got out.
He came around to her side to politely open the door, like a hero.
For a long time he just stood there, looking down at the door.
At first the girl couldn't figure out what was wrong; then she realized
that her door was still locked. She smiled and unlocked it.
The boy still just stood there.
The girl looked puzzled and rolled down her window. Then she saw that
the boy was looking down at the door handle.
She slowly looked down herself.
A long splatter of blood ran across the door all the way to the back bumper.
Hanging from the door handle was a stainless steel hook.
The Wreck
Fred and Jeanne went to the same high school, but they met for the
first time at the Christmas dance. Fred had come by himself, and so
had Jeanne. Soon Fred decided that Jeanne was one of the nicest
girls he had ever met.
At eleven o'clock Jeanne said, "I have to leave now.
Can you give me a ride?"
"Sure," he said. "I've got to go home, too."
"I accidentally drove my car into a tree on my way over here," Jeanne
said, and added with a smile, "I guess I wasn't paying attention."
Fred drove her to the head of Brady Road. It was in a neighborhood
he didn't know very well.
"Why don't you drop me off here," Jeanne said. "The road up ahead
is in really bad condition. I can walk from here."
Fred stopped the car and held out some tinsel. "Have some," he said.
"I got it at the dance."
"Thank you," she said. "I'll put it in my hair," and she did.
"Would you like to go out sometime, to a movie or something?" Fred asked.
"That would be fun," Jeanne replied.
After Fred drove off, he realized that he did not know Jeanne's
last name or her phone number. "I'll go back," he thought.
"The road can't be that bad."
He drove slowly down Brady Road through a thick patch of woods,
but there wasn't a sign of Jeanne. As he came around a curve,
he saw the wreckage of a car ahead. It had crashed into a tree
and caught fire. Smoke was still rising from it.
As Fred made his way to the car, he could see someone trapped inside,
crushed against the steering column.
It was Jeanne, and in her hair was the Christmas tinsel he had given her.
The Appointment
A sixteen year old boy worked on his grandfather's horse farm.
One morning he drove a pickup truck into town on an errand.
While he was walking along main street, he saw Death.
Death beckoned him.
The boy drove back to the farm as fast as he could and told his
grandfather what had happened.
"Give me the truck," he begged. "I'll go to the city. He'll never
find me there."
His grandfather gave him the truck, and the boy sped away.
After he left, his grandfather went into town looking for Death.
When he found him, he asked,
"Why did you frighten my grandson that way? He is only sixteen.
He is too young to die."
"I am sorry about that," said Death. "I did not mean to beckon to him.
But I was surprised to see him here. You see, I have an appointment
with him this afternoon - in the city."
The Bus Stop
A fellow was driving home from work in a rainstorm. While he
waited for a traffic light to change, he saw a young woman standing
along at a bus stop. She had no umbrella and was soaking wet.
"Are you going toward Farmington?" he called.
"Yes, I am," she answered.
"Would you like a ride home?"
"I would," she said, and she got in. "My name is Joanna Finney.
Thank you for rescuing me."
"I'm Ed Cox," he said, "and you're welcome."
On the way they talked and talked. She told him about her family
and her job and where she had gone to school, and he told her
about himself. By the time they got to her house, the rain had stopped.
"I'm glad it rained," Ed said. "Would you like to go out tomorrow after work?"
"I'd love to," Joanna replied.
She asked him to meet her at the bus stop, since it was near her
office. They had such a good time, they went out many times after that.
Always they would meet at the bus stop, and off they would go. Ed liked
her more each time he saw her.
But one night when they had a date to go out, Joanna did not appear.
Ed waited at the bus stop for almost an hour. "Maybe something is wrong,"
he thought, and he drove to her house in Farmington.
An older woman answered the door. "I'm Ed Cox," he said.
"Maybe Joanna told you about me. I had a date with her tonight.
We were supposed to meet at the bus stop near her office.
But she didn't show up. Is she alright?"
The woman looked at him as if he had said something strange.
"I am Joanna's mother," she said slowly. "Joanna isn't here now.
But why don't you come in?"
Ed pointed to a picture on the mantel. "That looks just like her," he said.
"It did once," her mother replied. "But that picture was taken when
she was your age-about twenty years ago. A few days later she was
waiting in the rain at the bus stop.
A bus hit her, and she was killed."
Eyes
As Jim Brand lay dying, his wife left him with his nurse and
went into the next room to rest. She sat in the dark staring into
the night.
Suddenly Mrs. Brand saw headlights come rapidly up the driveway.
"Oh, no," she thought. "I don't want visitors now, not now." But
it wasn't a car bringing a visitor. It was an old hearse with maybe
a half dozen small men hanging from the sides.
At least, that's what it looked like.
The hearse screeched to a stop. The men jumped off
and stared up at her, their eyes glowing with a soft, yellow light,
like cats' eyes.
She watched with horror as they disappeared into the house.
An instant later they were back, lifting something into the hearse.
Then they drove off at high speed, wheels squealing, the gravel in
the driveway flying in all directions.
At that very moment, the nurse came in to say that Jim Brand had died.
The Little White Dog
(American Folktale)
There was an old woman who had no family still living. Her only
friend was a little white dog who went everywhere with her - with
one exception. The dog loved the fireplace in winter, and after the
old woman went to bed he would sometimes go and lie in front of the
warm coals. Usually though, the dog slept at the very edge of the bed
on a throw rug.
The woman wouldn't allow the dog on the bed with her, but if she
became frightened or had a nightmare, she would put her hand down
to the little white dog and he would lick it reassuringly.
One night the woman was reading her newspaper just before going to sleep.
She shivered and pulled the comforter up around her as she read that
a mental patient had wandered off from a nearby hospital.
No one knew if the patient was dangerous of not; he was a suspect in
the murders of several women who had lived alone.
The woman turned out the lights and tried to sleep, but she was frightened,
and tossed and turned fitfully. Finally, she reached down to where the
little white dog slept. Sure enough, a warm, wet tongue began to lick her hand.
The woman felt reassured and safe, and left her hand dangling off the bed
as she turned and settled in comfortably.
She opened her eyes for a moment and looked through the open door
into the living room.
There in front of the fireplace, sat her little white dog, gazing at the coals
and wagging his tail.And down beside the bed,
something was still licking her hand.
The Call from the Grave
One time there was a little girl whose grandfather had just died.
She has loved her grandfather very much and she missed him a great deal.
He was buried in the cemetery just a few hundred yards from her house,
and she could see his grave every evening at sunset when she looked from
her bedroom window.
One night her parents were going out and the babysitter hadn't arrived yet.
They knew she was a very reliable babysitter who would probably arrive
just a few minutes later, so they kissed the girl good-bye and drive off.
Hours passed and the babysitter had not yet come. The girl began to be afraid.
A storm was brewing outside and thunder and lightning moved closer and
closer to the house.
Suddenly there was a bright flash of lightning without any sound and the
power in the house went off. The wind blew the trees around and branches
broke off, crashing against the house and falling to the yard. Alone in the dark,
the girl became very scared.
Then the phone rang.
The girl went to the phone, hoping it was her parents. She said hello,
and waited. The line seemed dead. Then, sounding far, far away,
a voice came over the phone.
It was her grandfather's voice.
"Don't be afraid, honey. There's nothing to fear. You'll be safe in the house.
The storm will pass over."
Then the phone was silent and dead.
The girl went to bed, calm and happy. She slept well in spite of the storm.
The parents came home and found their daughter asleep, and, unwilling
to wake her, they left their questions until the morning.
They were horrified when the babysitter called the next morning to explain
that she had been in a wreck at the leading edge of the storm. She was unhurt,
but what had their daughter done alone in the house?
When they woke her, she told them what had happened. And when they
didn't believe her, she smiled and pointed out her window to what she
had seen the night before.
The phone line from the house was intact out to the first pole, but then
it was broken by fallen limbs, and the cable drooped into the cemetery.
The end of the broken line lay across her grandfather's grave.
Strangers
A man and a woman happened to sit next to one another on a train.
The woman took ut a book and began reading. The train stopped at half
a dozen stations, but she never looked up once. The man watched her
for awhile, then asked, "What are you reading?"
"A ghost story," she said. "It's very good, very spooky."
"Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked.
"Yes, I do," she replied. "There are ghosts everywhere."
"I don't believe in them," he said. "It's just a lot of superstition.
In all my years, I've never seen a ghost, not one."
"Haven't you?" the woman said ... and vanished.
The Red Spot
Ruth was camping out in her back yard one night, and a
spider crawled across her face, stopping on her left cheek,
then went on it's way.
"What is that 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. It's sore."
"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 hot bath. As she soaked herself, the boil burst.
Out poured a swarm of tiny spiders from the eggs their mother spider
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. But they had gotten a late start,
and now it was getting dark. So 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 and brought out some cake, and thefour
of them talked for awhile. Then the young couple were taken to their room.
They again 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 in 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,
and the man and the 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 screamed. In the rubble was a badly burned table,
like the one they had seen by the front door. On the table was the envelope
they had left that morning.
The Last Kiss
Late one night, a young man was driving home along a dark country road.
It was a Saturday night and it was raining. As he rounded a long curve,
his headlights lit up a young woman standing at the side of the road.
She was wearing a white dress and was all wet from the rain.
He thought he knew what had happened: The girl had quarreled with
her date and had chosen to walk home rather than stay with the guy.
The young man skidded to a stop before the young woman could even
raised her hand to thumb a ride.
He leaned over and opened the door for her to get in.
She slid into the seat and shut the door. With a smile she said,
"Would you take me home?
I just live a mile down the road."
That was when he noticed how pretty she was. He almost couldn't
think of anything to say, she was so pretty. He said, "Sure."
He took off his letter jacket and offered it to her. She leaned
forward and draped it around her shoulders. It was too crowded
in the front seat for her to put her arms into the sleeves.
The boy dropped the car into gear, and he still hadn't thought
of anything to say when they passed the church and the graveyard
and came to a two story house.
"This is my house," she said.
They stopped, and he got out and walked her to the door.
They stood looking at each other for a moment and before
he could think of a way to ask her for a kiss, she leaned
over and kissed him. He was so surprised that she had
opened the screen door, opened the front door, and gone inside
the house before he could speak. He realized that she was
still wearing his letter jacket and for a moment he thought
about knocking on the door.
But the house was dark, her parents were probably asleep,
and she might get into trouble for getting in so late if
he woke them. Besides, the jacket gave him the perfect
excuse to come see her again.
Sunday morning, about time for church, he came back to the
house and knocked on the door.
A tired, sad-looking woman answered. He asked if he could
talk to the ladies daughter.
"My daughter is dead," said the woman. "She died one year ago
last night in a car wreck one mile down the road or so at the
long curve."
"That's not possible!" said the man. "I gave her a ride home
last night!"
"If you don't believe me," said the woman, "go look for yourself.
She's buried in the graveyard there in the third row."
The young man walked into the cemetery. In the third row of
headstones, he found what he was looking for.
A pink marble headstone was inscribed with the name Laurie,
and over the rounded corners of the stone was his letter jacket.
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