What is your emergency?

By Caleb Griffith

Police Report January 4^th 1997 – 911 duty log.

Lieutenant, below is the 911 transmission of the call responder no. (REDACTED) received on (REDACTED). The area has been closed in the 72 hours since. No further action has been taken after further initial investigations resulted in four officers beign treated in the ICU unit.

“Hello 9/11 what is your emergency”

“Uhh...hello there’s this man wandering around my garden I don’t know if he’s drunk or lost, I don’t know what to do.”

“Sir, what is your name address?”

“(REDACTED INFORMATION)”

“Sir, Do you know the man in your garden?” 

“Do you think I do, of course I don’t, please I don’t know what to do.”

“Sir I have sent a patrol car to your house, are you the only one home?”

“Yes.”

“Can you confirm all entrances to your house are secured?”

“I’ll check.”

“Sir? Sir? I need you to stay on the line with me” ... “Sir”?

*glass breaks*

“What do you want...get out, get out!”

“Sir what is happening?”

*phone hits hard floor*

“Who are you! WHAT are you?”

*Three footsteps attack the ground, each louder than the last*

“Sir, the squad car is pulling up to your house, stay on the line with me please. Sir? Sir?”

“It doesn’t have hands, they’re blades, it’s knives.”

*The sharp sound of metal clanging against metal is heard*

“Open up police!”

Bang Bang Bang

*Three gunshots are heard*

*transmission becomes static*

Initial investigations found the house in question with no signs of forced entry.

A team of four CSI’s were sent in after the area was thought to be clear, however after 90 minutes of radio silence SWAT was sent in to retrieve the CSI’s. The four unconscious CSI’s were found face down on the lawn outside the house. No further action has been taking since.

Awaiting further orders...

 

The Darkness

By Hannah Partridge

It’s a grey evening; the wind is harsh and freezing

I’m walking home from school it’s so quiet, it’s suffocating.

All I can hear is my footsteps behind me -

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Echoing; ringing in my ears like drums.

As I walk, the sky grows dark;

the street lights flicker around me,

flooding the street with blinding light.

As I walk I notice the path grows long and dark -

I walk, but it continues to lengthen...

I pick up my pace, fear growing inside me; panic taking over my body.

The lights flicker and grow dimmer and dimmer.

Click clack. Click clack.

My footsteps get harder to hear; the silence is so deafening.

They lose their light, the darkness drowning the pavement -

It grows hard to see.

I still hear footsteps, but they don’t seem like they’re mine.

Click, clack, click, clack.

It grows louder and louder, but it feels like my feet are frozen to the path.

Click, clack, click, clack…

…and then, it stops.

The silence around me is intoxicating - 

It becomes hard to breathe, as if the air is thin.

I hear slow shallow breathing from behind me. I blink. The breathing is now in my ear,

Caressing my neck like a cold bony hand, making me shiver and shake -

Its smells as if a corpse is hanging over my body.

It feels, like death himself, has come to take me with him.

My neck grows numb and it becomes hard to breath.

I lose my breath, and air refuses to enter my body.

My vision grows dark.

My knees grow weak.

My nerves go numb.

Then the darkness consumes me.

 

 

The faceless monster

By Daniel McCafferty

It was another boring Monday morning. I got up at 7am, got dressed, said goodbye to my girlfriend. I went to my work in the local sheriff’s office. The chief was busting my hump about listening to music while working: “Oh come on, you not fond of the Eagles?” I joked…

He didn’t find it funny; “Next time it will be a written warning,” he boomed.

‘God that man is hell,’ I thought. He wasn’t but it wasn’t far away.

As soon as hometime rolled around I was so happy get out of there. I clocked out, got in my car and drove home. As I turned off the interstate, I noticed something by the roadside. I pulled over to investigate. It was a deer carcass.

At first glance I thought it had been hit crossing the road.

I was wrong… I was very wrong.

The poor thing was already dead. Blood was everywhere. Bits of flesh and bone ripped from its body. I could even see organs, or what was left of them, some lungs…a little kidney…all unpleasant.  Especially the teeth marks, teeth marks that didn’t look familiar. I assumed a wolf had made them, at least until I heard that ungodly screech.

I didn’t get a good look at it at first, but I saw that it was drenched head to toe in blood. That was enough to make me turn tail and run.

As I made it to my car, I felt something tear into my arm, nothing compared to the pain I felt right there and then.

I managed to get inside and close the door. I saw it through the rear window as I sped away. It looked like a man, at least the shape of a man but it didn’t have a face... just teeth. Huge razor sharp teeth, and huge nails, almost like blades. I drove home as fast I could. My girlfriend, Sarah was shocked to see me, my blood and what was left of my arm. It was torn to shreds. She wanted to treat the wound. I needed to get to the gun cabinet.

‘What was that thing?’

‘What if it found me?’

I was right to be afraid…

I slept with the shotgun at my bedside. I say sleep, I heard every tiny sway of floorboard, amplified up to 11.

Then at about 3am, I suddenly stirred, my mouth was as dry as the Mojave. Getting up to get a drink and I took the shotgun with me.

When I went back to the bedroom, it was standing over Sarah… I froze. I didn’t know what to do… I did the only logical thing I could.

I fired.

I wish I hadn’t.

The shell tore straight through its abdomen, but it still stood there, unflinching. As Sarah sat up in the bed, it bit straight through her throat, as she choked on her own blood I just stood there.

Stand there was all I could do for far too long.

I eventually came to my senses and took another shot at the thing. This time I knocked it off its feet. Then, again I took off toward the car. Grabbing the pistol that sits in the hall drawer I got in the car and was once again running for my life, but from what?

As I pulled out of the driveway, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There it was standing in the middle of the road; this was one tough son-of-a-something I was dealing with.

I hit it with the car. I knew that didn’t do any harm. It had just shrugged off two shotgun shells to the chest.

What to do?

Where to go?

After tears screams, high speed turns and some hiding I drove to my friend Tom’s house.

I blasted the horn as I arrived at Tom’s and ran toward the door. As it opened the look on my friends face said it all.

It was still behind me.

I don’t know why but I turned round. It was then its nails tore into my chest. I fell to my knees. It ignored me for a minute, I don’t know why, leaving me on the ground, gargling through blood, for air, for hope.

Then it was extinguished too.

It died with Tom. I watched as what used to be Tom hit the garden, the roof, the road and the neighbours house.

Whilst hardly being able to breathe, I looked down and saw I still had the shotgun in my hand. I mustered what was left of my strength to lift the gun. Pulling the trigger I don’t know if I hit anything. The force of the shot threw me onto my back. I was lying in the grass, no breath, no hope, no escape.

It walked over towards me… looked me right in the eyes… I heard that blood-curdling screech again.

Everything went black.

I’m dead.

Dear Diary

By Lisa Campbell

“Sir this is the last entry in the diary on a desk in her bedroom.”

Dear Diary,

I was sleeping and then suddenly I heard a big bang. I mean a really big bang.

It is 3am.

Awake now I hear footsteps in the hall. Should I go and check. I have to, this is my house.

I’m back, there was nothing there but the electiricty has stopped working. I am writing this by the light of the window. What am I going to do?

Now I hear screeching noises. Why aren’t mum and dad awake? They might get mad if I wake them.

[Leaves diary to check her parents room]

Mum and dad aren’t in bed. My big sister wont wake up!

3.17am

I have not slept properly in this house in the two weeks we’ve lived here. Wait what if it IS haunted?

I thought everyone at school was joking. No I am hearing things, sending myself mad. I have to get some sleep. Why can’t I sleep?

3.30am

3.47am

What was that in the garden? I wonder was it an owl?

4am

4.13am

4.30am

I might as well get a drink of water. I’m off downstairs.

“No, no sign yet sir, the sister is in hospital, she hasn’t regained consciousness, the parents and the girls are all still missing…”

 

THE WATER GUN

By Kasey Hayes

This story focuses on two brothers and their fateful encounter last Friday 23^rd October. Their story starts the Wednesday before.

The house is quiet and all that can be heard is the TV playing in the background.

“Latest news on the five missing boys, all aged from 13 to 16 years old, who have gone missing over the last three weeks, their whereabouts are still unknown. Any and all tips on their current location should be passed down to the help line 0800 666 999.”

Suddenly the TV set switches off.

A short, determined woman no taller than 5 foot, storms out of the living room, a stern look on her face.

She stomps to the bottom of her staircase and screeches; “Darren! You left the damn T.V on again, I’m your mother, not your maid. I shouldn’t have to clean up after you all the time. You are 13 for God’s sake!”

Darren sighs and turns to his brother Jake; “Dang, she’s always nagging at me; it’s just a little mess. What do you think?”

Jake looks up from his place on his bed where he had previously been immersed in a book, an un-amused look on his face as he glances at his brother “Dude, if you don’t start cleaning up after yourself, moms not going to let you go out this weekend.”

Darren glares at Jake and retorts with; “Fine then Jake, how about you clean up your mess too, oh, never mind let’s talk about this some other time, we need to go to school.”

Jake rose from where he was laying and followed Darren out of their room.

Not too much time later the boys arrived at school for their respective classes. Time passed very slowly as they attempted to work. Suddenly all pupils were called to an emergency assembly by the principle.

The assembly hall was packed with students, nervous and excited students. Sitting in their own classes before being silenced by the booming voice of the head teacher; “I’m sure most of you have watched the news and have heard about the recent disappearances.

“I have called all of you here to say that school will be closing early for Halloween. I hope you travel around in groups if you must go out, but I caution you, no I plead with you all to stay home.

“Have a safe Halloween everyone.”

As the boys walk home, Darren speaks up first; “What do you think happened to all of the boys that went missing?”

Quietly Jake replied; “Honestly, I have no idea. They could have been kidnapped for all we know. I don’t want to hang around the street alone anyway. I don’t want anything to happen to you either.” This caused Darren to square his shoulders and stiffen his back, he pulled himself upward as he bashfully retorted; “Sure, whatever, nothing’s gonna happen anyway.”

What Darren didn’t tell Jake was that since they had left school he felt someone watching them. Like a wolf stalking it prey, a shadow, nonexistent in the night, waiting to pounce.

Now it is 6pm Friday the 23^rd.

After countless hours playing in the street with their friends, Jake and Darren soon found themselves alone as their friends all returned home.

“Hey Darren,” said Jake, “I think we should head home now, it’s getting dark and it’s a little bit too cold to be playing with water guns.”

Darren heard this and the slight annoyance on his face was obvious.

The angry retort was; “Come on! Seriously? How come you always do this? Once everyone goes home you want to stop playing. Seriously you the worst.”

“Come on, stop whining and lets go home already,” snapped Jake. “I’m bored of this, stop being a brat.”

Darren glares at his brother in annoyance: “God, you’re like, the worst bro ever, I hate hanging around with you, why can’t you go make your own friends instead of stealing mine cus you’re a loner, gone get a life.”

Jake turns to Darren in astonishment, yelling angrily; “What... what did you just say to me? Why the hell would you say something like that? You know that I got bullied by everyone in my year, they tormented me, seriously, I thought you cared about me. Well, fine then, play by yourself, I’m going home.

“You know, I wish you were never born, maybe then things would be different!”

Jake stormed off leaving Darren all alone in the dark.

Next day 6am.

Jake is awoken from his slumber by the noise of his mother frantically pacing up and down the landing , screeching into her phone. He can only hear random snippets from the conversation;
“Darren…late…didn’t come home…missing…worried.”

He then heard his mother hang up the phone and give a large sigh, as Jake leaves his room to find out what the commotion was, he notices that his brother’s room felt cold, untouched and lifeless. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach he continued down stairs. He walked into the kitchen unconsciously searching for Darren. Then his mother was already standing behind him screaming hysterically in his ear.

“Jake! I can’t believe you left your little brother out there alone last night; you’re supposed to be the responsible older brother.

Jake replied: “I thought he was behind me, I didn’t want to stay out any later and I thought he would follow me home, how was I supposed to know he wouldn’t follow me!?”

Jakes mother lets out a long sigh and begins to mutter weakly, “well there’s nothing we can do about it now, all we can do is hope that he’s at a friend’s house and if not, that we can find him.”

‘What if we don’t find him?’ They both thought.

It is 7 pm the previous night.

Darren stood there, quaking in rage, tears flooded his eyes, his face set stone cold in an anguished expression.

Darren looks up quickly and screams: “ARRRRRHHHH!  Fine! Go home, I don’t care!”

But Jake was already gone, nowhere to be seen. Darren starts to jog and as time passes he picks up his pace and breaks into a sprint. Not actually sure where he’s going. He runs and runs, and then slam! He’s suddenly face first on the ground, his ankle on fire, at least that’s how it felt. Writhing in pain he screamed out as something tightened around his ankle. Looking down he sees his foot caught in a nose like rope, covered in razors, blood oozing from the many cuts now blossoming on his leg, a new cut followed every twist of his ankle. Every move he made, every time he attempted to pull away, the grip became tighter, slicing him more and more.

Darren stops moving, he could feel it, that same feeling he got at school the day before, like a deer caught in a bear trap, unable to escape.

Looking around trying to stay focused and fight through the burning pain, no one is near him; he calls out for help... silence. Not a soul around. He reached down and started tugging and pulling at the rope tying him to the ground. He bit back the screams rising in his throat as his tears streamed down his face.

The pain was just unbearable.

Stopping  his futile efforts to escape Darren looked around for help. That was when he saw it, a shadow by the trees in the park. Was the shadow smiling? Why, why would he just stand there and watch, why wouldn’t he help.

That’s when it dawned on Darren. The only reason, the only person would just stand and watch as his body got ripped apart was obviously the person who set the trap.

With renewed vigour, he started ripping at the rope, ignoring the biting pain, the man waves and starts to slowly walk forward. His heart beating frantically, it felt like a heart attack, he’s getting closer, and closer and then, Finally the leg was free. Scrambling away from the creepy man Darren ran as fast as he could.

Panting heavily and faint, Darren felt the blood gush over his skin. Then he heard it, laughter, sick twisted and full of everything but humour.

And suddenly he felt more pain. A knife pierced his stomach, protruding from his body, alien but now almost another part of his skeleton, it was embedded so deep.

Then came the laughter, the mockery, the hate.

Looking up thinking about stabbing the man responsible for this but no one was there. Darren was alone. All alone. Falling from here to there, Darren didn’t even know which direction home was in.

Suddenly there was cold breath on his neck and the words “hello number 6,” in his ears shook him to his core.

Jakes walking around the street calling Darren’s name, yelling for him to come out now, in the distance, standing by the park by a broken street light was a man hidden in shadow, holding a blue water gun, grinning, just grinning.

My favourite Urban Legends

By Hannah Breslin

Halloween has me feeling in an unusually creepy mood, So I decided to look up some of my favorite and creepiest urban legends. Urban legends have always held a unique and special place in my heart, as a child I read Derry’s urban legends and they completely fascinated me. I may have been a strange and unusual child. Looking back though the scary, funny and downright unbelievable I found there are some urban legends based on real events. These sparked my interest. There is some documentary proof that these events actually occurred. Allow me to list a few of my favorites:

The body under the mattress

The legend for this one is about a couple who check into a hotel and smell a rotting smell, dismissing it, however as they pull back the mattress to investigate only to find the rotting corpse of girl stuffed in the box springs.

The true element of this story is based on this same event happening all across America in Las Vegas also, Kansas City, MO and Atlantic City, NJ and several times in Florida and California. The victims of this event are usually murdered which is a very sad and scary thing. The reason why I enjoy this legend so much is that it sparks the curiosity of it could happen to anyone, even you. The multiple accounts of this gruesome discovery make this a Very Real horror story.

The silent murder

 Libraries, with their unnerving silence and multiple musty, forgotten corners, sometimes attract tall tales of people being killed in the back of a library. So who knew however there are real accounts of this happening.

There is the true story is of a university student Betsy Aardsma who on 28 November 1969 was murdered with a singular deadly stab to the chest.  As there were numerous other students present in the library at the time and nobody heard anything, this murder was clearly and  completely completed in silence.

I find this one very interesting, being a student the likely hood of this event happening is highly possible. The eerie silence of the books adds to my unwavering unease and this  is especially fun around Halloween.

No face Charlie

This is the final story which is something I heard during my childhood, in the best and most traditional way, from a friend of a friend.

That friend knows a guy who is related to a guy who seen Charlie No-Face.

Charlie No-Face is said to wander dark alleys and lonely country lanes at night. The story went that Charlie No-Face lost his face playing near power lines. This is exactly what happened. This makes it sound like something made up by parents to stop their children to stop playing around electricity supply lines but is actually, completely based off of a true story. Honestly it is legit!

Charlie No-Face was actually a man named Raymond Robinson who was horrifically disfigured in a dangerous power line accident.  One summer day in 1919, a young, not-yet-faceless Raymond and his friends thought it would be a fun idea to play around on an electrified trolley bridge, and as electricity was fairly new, they were unaware of the dangers of electricity.

So long story short, Charlie had his nose burnt off and his left arm destroyed up to the elbow.

Despite absorbing enough electricity to completely disfigure his face but miraculously Raymond survived the ordeal. It wasn’t immediately clear that he would go down in local folklore as a living urban legend.

I absolutely love this legend. It is completely accurate and completely possible. Like all the best scary stories it could also happen to anyone.