Myths, legends, and tales from Schrodinger's closet- Now Open
 

Reserved!
 

Schrodinger's current collection is as follows-

-Contamination-
-The Blind Man's Favor(one of my personal favorites)-
-Child's Eyes-

-WHO WAS PHONE?!-

I have more, of course, but I'm far too lazy to post them ALL. xD I suppose I'll store more here later. Once I get my personal archive set up, I'll provide a link to it, so we won't have this giant WALL OF TEXT marring the beauty of our thread.

Linkage
 

Meep. O.O Child's Eyes very nearly made me look. >_> <_< I shall have some to post one of these days.

...
What...
I...I...
I...have...posts?!

Omgwtf.

Good evening, the story I'm going to tell you happened to a friend of a friend. Just as a warning it is a creepy story and a little graphic at one point.

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A house was build on an Indian graveyard. The man who bought the house was warned and told it put a circle of candles around his bed. He did as he was told and moved in with his three German Shepherds.

One night he woke up to the sound of his dogs barking like mad. One by one they suddenly fall silent. The silence is broken by thumping on the stairs. The footsteps keeping coming and stop right in front of his bedroom door. the door swings open and reveals an Indian that stands at about seven feet tall. The Indian walks right up to the very edge of the candles and stares at the man for a few agonizing seconds before turning around and walking back down the stairs.

In the morning the man found his three dogs with their hearts ripped out of their chests.

Not getting the hint the man stayed and got three more dogs and when he was out shopping the house burnt to the ground with the dogs still trapped inside.

Yet after all this the man still didn't get it and tried to rebuild. The workers had the new basement almost fully dug out by the time they went home. They arrived the next morning to find the hole fully filled in and not even a tire track left on the ground.

Luckily he finally got the hint and left the sacred site alone.

Oh! I actually heard that one before. I heard it was true, for the most part.

Ghost Hunters went to an area eerily similar to that, except they bred horses. The horses were found dead with their throats slit, and one had to be euthanized because its legs had been twisted and broken.

Scary stuff, thanks for your addition!

Whoa! The first two were totally awesome, as in nothing short of pure awesome. The Lipton one was quite well told with just enough left up to imagination for it to leave you thinking, but still have the story complete. The WWII one could have been pulled out a little longer, but it was still superb as well. As in totally sup- you get the point, I hope. ^^;;
(And now to head to the fridge to grab me some tea...)
Where does the "Who was on the phone" one come from, though? It makes me want to write it out as a full short story, cuz that'd be awesome! T^T But I couldn't without proper permissions...
I used to live in a haunted house, but there was never anything violent. The little girl- the ghost, as in- was quite peaceful really. Play hide and go seek with my sister once...
I'm going to have to show this thread to my creative writing class. XD They'd love it; we look up ghost sightings and stuff all the time when we don't have dead lines. Sweet stuff.

Good evening. The story I'm going to tell is reputed to be the shortest scary story in the world: it goes something like this: The last man alive on earth sat alone in his room. There came a knock at the door....

I LOOOOOVVEEE 'Child's Eyes' it's scary, but practically believable. Please write more.

my favorite was always the velvet ribbon and my least favorite was harold

Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and creatures of the night. I'm here to relate several tales, told to me by a man long ago. The man has since been slain, but I stand before you to deliver his stories. These may not be for the faint-hearted, as some do include graphic descriptions and general creepiness. I have not written any of these, unless otherwise stated.


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"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull yourself up onto your elbows. The clock glows red in the darkness- its 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in the dream, when I told you about my dream, the thing in Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you cant take your eyes off your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
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Go to any high traffic bathroom. It must be a high traffic bathroom; otherwise the room won’t have enough latent residual energy to carry out the task. A hotel bathroom is perfect. Make sure it’s after 12pm, and make sure you have 2 clove cigarettes. The stronger the cigarette, the higher your success rate is. Sit in the dark and begin smoking one of the cigarettes. Make sure there is a mirror present, and that you look at your reflection at all times. The burning cherry should provide just enough light for this. When you’ve smoked the cigarette within a 1/4 in of the filter, the room should be full of smoke. Your eyes will no doubt be watering, but don’t blink. Don’t take your eyes off of the mirror or your reflection whatever you do. To blink will make all you’ve done at this point for naught.

You’ll begin to notice that your reflection will begin to fade into black. The reflection of the cherry from your cigarette will begin to separate into two red eyes. The smoke in the room will begin to condense, and before you even realize it’s happened, a shade will be sitting on the ledge of the sink. He’ll ask you for a cigarette, which is why you’re instructed to bring two. Give the shade a cigarette, which will light itself once he brings it to his withered lips. At this point, you can ask the shade any question you want, and he’ll answer true. You can ask who shot JFK, who was Jack the Ripper. Anything you could possibly think of. Be sure to keep an eye on how much of the cigarette he’s smoked. When it gets to the point where it will only take a few more hits to kill it, the smoke from the other cigarette will begin to define more of his features, making him more material than ethereal.

At this point, stand up and snatch out his eyes in one sweeping motion. He should still be mostly smoke, so your hands should pass easily through his head. If you let him finish the cigarette he WILL attack you, almost surely taking your life in the process. The shade will begin screaming and cursing you and the hand holding his eyes will be burning intensely. DO NOT OPEN YOUR HAND! Even though the eyes are disembodied, they can see if they are out in the open. Run to the light switch and flip it on. This will banish the shades physical form and send him back into the ether. Leave the room and wait until 3:00 am to open your hand. The burning will be unbearable until then, but to do so will blow all the lights out in your house, allowing the shade to return and seek vengeance. You will have 4 burn marks on your palm when you open it. All cauterized of course, and mostly healed.

From then on you can never be in a dark room with a mirror, because the shade will be able to track you through the burns in your hand. He’ll have black hell dogs now, given his loss of sight, and they are far more terrible than the shade could ever be. The number of hell dogs depends on the strength of the shade you made contact with. After this, you’ll always be cold, no matter how warm it is, and you’ll be given the ability to perform minor miracles. Your dreams will always be nightmares, but in them, you will be granted a kind of third sight. You’ll never be able to see anything good, only the most horrific future events. And these events will only be known to you at a point where you can’t do anything to stop them.

A small price to pay for absolute knowledge.
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I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.

Today a friend of mine told me a story.

His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):

“They were doing mission work in some nasty little South American country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerta blanca, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerta blanca? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.

The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…

Once for your skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.

Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.

Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.

Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.

Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.

Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.

Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.

She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.

You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.

Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.”

Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.”

His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.

He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.

Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.

Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.

Nice knowing you guys, it’s been fuy5
WITNESS
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Perhaps I shall tell more later.