repository for my writings

lots of "scary" stories or w/e from when I was like 14 to now. lot of it originally debuted on bogleech dot com

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Mister Lincoln, I presume?

Charlie Smith walked to the edge of the small cliff and looked at the old stone bridge. The thing was older than most of the city’s buildings, and the tales surrounding it were the subject of today’s investigation. It was a seven-foot drop from the cliff down onto the beach peppered with broken bottles, shards of metal, and probably tetanus. She looked downwards and sighed. What she had to do for a good picture. Charlie sat down at the edge before scooting herself off into the spiky pit of disease.

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Bored Meetings

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, sometime in July. I was in my cubicle, silently crunching numbers and desperately wishing that I could get home to my wife. She had the day off- some kind of water problem at her work, I think- and so she was probably watching TV or playing video games or going for walks. I wanted to be back with her so badly, to enjoy this beautiful summer day and live our lives. Unfortunately, I was stuck in this stuffy office, running numbers for some company that does god-knows-what, trying to use the bathroom as much as possible so that I could do as little as possible.

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    The father had staggered into my office a few days earlier. He had told me that his three children and his wife had all taken ill, afflicted with some debilitating disease. The youngest had contracted it first, and it had quickly spread to the rest of the family. He was afraid that soon he would be infected and that no one would be able to care for one another. The man was sweating bullets and scratching at his armpits, neck, and groin. I asked him to stay with me for a check up, but he quickly refused and left. I spent the next two days trying to figure out just who he was and where he lived. On the third, I prepared my materials for a house call. On the fourth day, I went to the homestead.

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Crown of the White Death, or The Asbestos Prom

Senior year was my year. Student council president? Check. Choice college? Check. Prom queen? Check. Stayed with my boyfriend? No. Found out he was a cheating douche? Check. Not have a date to prom? Check. Prom king be a total loser who leaves early? Check.

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A is for Alligator

Parents are always telling you bullshit. Things like a slimy old man slipping down the chimney, horrible bunny-men squeezing eggs filled with candy through their cloacae, and that they were “just wrestling” that one time when you were six. And then there’s those feelings when they tell you the truth. Disappointment, confusion, a tinge of disgust when you look at your seven-year younger brother, and above all else, a growing sense of mistrust in what they say and do.

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B is for Baby

Recording begins in kitchen, subject looks at screen

Hey guys, I’m pregnant! Which is weird, cause I don’t remember the last time I’ve had sex. Or kissed someone. Or held their hand. Other weird thing is that I don’t remember growing at all. It was just, “wake up this morning, and bam! You have a fat stomach, with a very active little fella kicking inside of it.” I think I’m going to go to the doctor to get this all sorted out.

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C is for Ceiling

I poured my cereal in the bowl. It clinked as it went in. I poured my milk in the bowl. It dripped as it went in. When I stopped pouring, it still dripped. I looked around. Nothing in the faucet. Nothing from the fridge. Nothing. Not until plaster drip drip dripped from the ceiling into my bowl. Then I looked up.

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D is for Doorway

Attention, citizens of Seuil County. This is the government. Please stop what you are doing and listen to this message. It is imperative that you do not open or close any doors. Doing so will most likely result in death. If, by the grace of God, it doesn’t, then you will face up to nineteen consecutive life sentences. Repeat, please do not open or close any doors.

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Glow-Out

Tim and I ran like hell down the street, illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlights. Whatever was behind us was silent, but I knew it was gaining on us.

“Christ, man! What is this?” Tim yelled.

“What? Why do you think I would know?” I screamed back, in between heavy breaths.

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Pipe Guy

Ok, I’ve officially lost track of how many times this thing has got me. It’s somewhere between twenty-five and infinity. Well, I mean, not infinity, since that’s not a real number, but whatever. Anyways, it’s a lot.

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A Spell of Great Revenge

That bastard has hurt me for the last time. They have taken everything from me. Every time I look at them I cringe in anger and pain. Like a thousand needles were stabbing into my body. And also the needles are filled with angry juice. Fortunately, I knew what to do. Their evil was going to end once and for all.

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Between Aspens

When I was a kid, my dad constantly took me hunting. Every month, we’d go out and kill some deer. He’d pat me on the back, give me a rifle, and load me up into his Ford, which would take us up into the mountains. We’d spend Saturday and Sunday up there freezing and hoping we could get one. Then, we’d go back home and he could go on ignoring me, pretending that those awful trips were enough to make him a “good dad.”

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Against Doctor Madison’s Analysis of the Apiary, or an Examination on the Soul, Mind, and Birds

Written by Doctor B. Ross

Edited and endorsed by the Library

Scientia est Vita

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The Milkman Cometh

The second I woke up, I was terrified. I’m not sure why, exactly. I was just filled with a sense of pure dread that wouldn’t go away. I turned to look at the clock- six in the morning. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to bed, so I got out. My wife protested with a soft grunt.

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I hated sleepovers, but I hated Jared’s house more than most. It wasn’t that his big sister scared me, like at Bobby’s, or that he got really mad at me easily like Marty did, or that his dad said weird stuff like Tyson’s did. It was that his mom always made us sleep in the living room, and every time we did I would wake up at like two in the morning and feel wet all over like I peed myself. After the first time, I cleaned myself up during the night.

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I really, really hate cigarettes. Ever since I was a kid, the smell would worm its way into my nose and I’d spend the next week coughing, if I was lucky. If I wasn’t, I’d end up in the hospital. The respiratory illnesses didn’t help. And when both my parents died of tobacco-induced lung cancer, I decided that I wouldn’t have anything to do with them.

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Journal Entry 12

I honestly have no clue what was the beginning of the end of the world. Really, I don’t think you can pinpoint it to an exact period. Birds have always existed, y’know? Well, not in like dinosaur times or whatever. Did they? Whatever. That doesn’t matter. Just a tangent.

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