Well Well Well........

We all have a best friend who we can rely on and just be ourselves with, and for Derek and Harry this was no different. Two men in their mid - late 20's; 26 and 27 respectively, grew up on the same middle class street and shared all of their childhood, adolescence and young adulthood with each other. Their houses were close, their bond even closer. They laughed together, drank together, got into trouble together and sometimes even fought together but ultimately they would die together.

Derek was the driver, Harry the passenger, as they went smoothly along the open road, their destination was a small fishing village just fifteen minutes outside their town. They pulled up, parking at the top of the slip that led down to a small harbor where they would go to sit, chat and unwind for a while. It was a spot for fisher and trawler men at day time but at night it turned into a hookup and recreational spot for teens. Luckily for the two friends it was midday and all that was down there were docked boats and pesky seagulls. 

Just as they were walking down they stopped into a small shop to get something to drink, the norm went would go like this -  Derek would go for a hot drink, mainly coffee and Harry something cold, preferably with alcohol, but today Harry decided to get something hot, tea was his drink of choice, he never got the whole coffee fascination with the modern world and Derek even changed his drink, opting for a bottle of overpriced water. Creatures of habit no more they said to each other in their own unique humorous way that only they could understand.

Walking down the long harbor slip (they even walked in a way that only they again could understand) they noticed a sort of sign that was never there before, the two would frequently come out here. They both went over to take a look as it read; "Welcome to the haunted well where once a year on July 6th spirits take over the harbor slip". Harry looked at Derek asking "What date is today", Derek replied with "Hold on......6th of July......some timing". Under a picture of the well on the sign was more writing - "Besides the hand that lived in the well, the ghost of Mary Houlahan and the spirits of two teenage school girls haunt these parts, when you hear the cry you know its your time to die"

"What well!!" asked Derek. "Erm see that small well that was never here before but looks like it was here for hundreds of years behind you" Harry pointed in the direction of Derek's shoulder. They looked at each other in confusion for a moment before bursting out laughing at the idea that they both knew the other one was believing the story but  none would admit it, again it was almost like they could read each others thoughts and feelings. They walked on down another few yards, almost at the bottom of the slip now.

Out of nowhere the laughter of young girls could be heard ringing around, as if it was somehow trapped in the shallow breeze. "Do you hear that Harry or am I totally after losing it" Derek said very meekly,  "Unfortunately I do" replied Harry. They again both looked at each other smiling but this time their smiles weren't as wide or pronounced. The laughing got louder and closer but there was no sign of where and who was doing this until at the slip's end two projections of school girls flickered in and out very briefly. As they seen this the sky quickly changed from bright and blue to dark and grey. 

Rain started falling heavily, the shallow breeze turned into stormy wind and the young men now looked at each other with fear in their faces. They both turned around trying to run up the slip to the car but right in front of them kept appearing the teenage girls and now even their laughter turned to crying which rang so loud into Derek and Harry's ears that they could do no more than fall to their knees, holding their ears in pain. Up at the top of the slip they could now see an older woman looking as old as time itself standing there, mouth opening wider and wider.

She levitated towards Harry, as Derek tried to stand up a hand came out from the well grabbing at his ankles. He couldn't move, no matter how much he struggled he could not get away. They could both see their friend in danger but were as equally as helpless to do anything as each other. The ghostly old lady pinned Harry to the ground, directing his attention towards his friend who was now also lying on the ground with his legs tied by the wrinkly hand of the well and body held by the teenage spirits. Harry could hear movement coming down the slip, it was Derek's car sliding backwards down it, gaining momentum on the way.

"Nooooo....don't" Shouted Harry but all this done was make the school girls giggle. Derek's head now perfectly in line with the oncoming car, he gave Harry one last look, said nothing and smiled at him in a way that only they would understand before the car rolled over his head, crushing it completely. Death by his own car, which was what they once joked about a few years back after a near crash together and indeed this what what the smile told.

Harry closed his eyes upon impact, he could not watch his friend of over 20 years die like that. When he opened them things didn't get any better for him, the old lady was still over him, so close that he could smell the sickening stench off her breath. Her mouth still wide open she looked into his eyes and said "Your turn young man" before biting into his stomach, causing it to rip completely open. As she was feeding on his insides the worst thing was that Harry was still alive for most of it., feeling her grazing through his intestines and organs like it was spaghetti.

After this the three spirits stood by the well and watched as the sea eerily came up and dragged what was left of the two bodies into the water along with the car. As soon as this happened the sky turned back from grey to blue, the rain became sunshine and the stormy wind became that pleasant gentle breeze once again. The sign and well had also vanished and nobody ever knew what happened to such quirky but beloved best friends.

Bound

Hunting hares was a very much enjoyed sport for the locals of this time. Farmers, hunters and anyone who enjoyed the "Sport of real men" as it was called, could join in as they pleased. Big Dale Easton was the man who traditionally led the monthly hunt across the open forestry of Cleveland in the North-East of England. Dale always stood with his chest puffed and lower lip out stiff as he inhaled the smoke from his pipe. He had no time for the weak minded no more than he had for people's nonsense. No one would question what he said, even though often he would be wrong they would never correct him for fear of retaliation of his caused embarrassment. 

On the face of things he had no enemies, well maybe just one and that was the Nanny of the Woodlands. Her and Dale never got on, they were similar in age and knew each other nearly as long as they knew themselves but pride from their opposite social hierarchy prevented them from talking to one another. She hated everything he stood for, especially his love for hunting innocent wild animals. He hated her dirty, hermit, reclusive ways he just could not understand why someone would choose that life.

About twenty five years ago was when things got really bad between the two. They were both approaching thirty when one of the Nanny's beloved Red Squirrels was found dead outside her small residual cottage, stomach blown open from a gun shot. She furiously approached Dale that day in the village, spitting and scowling while trying to claw at his face. Dale's men held her back, pushing her to the ground and laughing. Dale too was laughing and wondering why she cared so much for these feral furry creatures so much. This was when she was christened her name. 

Over the next few years she would never show her face in the village again. When the monthly hunt was on she hid inside, gathering up all the surrounding animals she could and keeping them in there until the hunt was over. Dale knew she was doing this but although he wanted nothing more to kick her fragile wooden door down even Dale wouldn't be that brave as he knew if he done so then he would have to kill her,  she would then be similar to that of a cornered rat she would fight till her death and have no problem doing so. Dale had the village people on his side and killing an innocent woman might be a bit too far and turn them against him. They eventually made a pact that any animal on her land would be safe from the hunt, a pact they both reluctantly agreed on.

On Dale's fifty fifth birthday he organised a special hunt to commemorate the occasion. Him and the village men all sat around drinking and shooting at propped targets mainly consisting of the empty beer bottles they had just guzzled. Dale stood up and ordered that someone bring him the largest hare in the woodland and he who does so will be rewarded in turn, this led to a cheer followed by some drink fueled singing.

They waited for dusk time as this was the best time to hunt. They marched out into forest area in double file as if they were in a marching band. The drunk singing had well stopped by now and each one of them focused on the nights task. Gunshots rang out and Dale was brought three dead hare's. He examined each carcass but threw they all away grabbing three of the men in a close huddle. Taking turns he looked them all directly into their eyes while boisterously demanding bigger over and over again before letting go of the grip he had on their back necks.

Only a few moments after this pep-talk one of them men spotted something up ahead. The closer he sneaked up the more he realised his luck, it was the largest looking hare he had ever laid eyes on, it was as if the Easter bunny was actually real. The hare sat there feeding on the green grass, one of the hunters tried approaching as close as he could to get a clear shot, he knew he couldn't mess this up. As this was going through his head he stood on and snapped a twig only about fifty feet away alerting the hare who ran off deeper into the forest.

The hunter dashed after the fleet footed mammal who now had crossed over on to the forbidden land of the Nanny, but once there it stopped running and sat there looking directly at the hunter. He cocked his gun, aimed directly at the hare knowing well that this was against the pact but didn't care, when was he ever gonna come across one as big as this. He pulled the trigger and the bullet struck the hare right in the center of its body, killing it upon impact. The dead body was thrown over his shoulder and he marched back to Dale beaming with delight.

Back at the base camp where they had set up Dale was now lying on the ground, badly wounded from a bullet in his stomach. The hunter carrying the hare dropped it on the ground in confusion and ran over to Dale who was getting worse by the second and asked him what happened, he responded with his last breaths; "The Nanny......the nanny done this", before departing this life.

The hunters angrily marched towards the grounds of the Nanny, barging into her home but what they seen took even the most irate of person by surprise. She lay on her bed with the same wound as Dale had and indeed the hare. She laughed uncontrollably pointing at to the right hand side of her cottage before she also passed away. The hunters edged over in trepidation. They came across a stack of voodoo drawings and writing, most of which they could not decipher but the part they could brought great fear among them all. "Should a killing happen on forbidden territory then whom are bound in this pact shall die also, and should revenge be sought then impending doom shall come to those who seek it"

The spell was signed with the blood of the Nanny and a long brown hair she had managed to get from Dale some twenty five years back.

Tunnel of Death

In the sewers of the River Thames, London, was said to be a murderous and twisted man. He doesn't discriminate against who he kills. No matter if you are male or female, tall or short, skinny or fat, he was said to not care for your type but only for your blood. Eleven bodies found down along the sewer lines in the past six months has provided the need for a red alert, with a luxurious reward put on anyone who has information. The manhunt for this killer had truly begun.

Sixteen tons of sewerage flow into the water each year from this system but now for the first time body parts are included in this. Each victim has had some part of them missing; fingers, toes, ears eyes and even the tongue. No murder is the same, there is no M.O. linking the bodies together, other than the fact that they are found in the sewers and most likely have been killed down there.

The latest missing person was a 21 year old girl who was last seen heading out the door down to collect her laptop from the repair shop. Her sister Jennifer reported her missing after repeatedly trying to contact her but to no avail. She tried the laptop repair shop to which they confirmed that she did indeed collect the laptop and the camera outside showed her walking down the street that would of been in the direction of back home..

After three days the police had no links to where she would of disappeared to and assumed the worst. They checked the sewers but unlike the rest of the victims there was no body laying there, nor was there any floating limbs on the bed of the sewerage. Jennifer tried everything she could before deciding one night to head down to the sewers herself. She had to go by night as it was a sectioned off area and under darkness she could sneak inside, and do that she done.

The drop down was about five feet to a splash of dirty water hitting her under her nose. Not a greeting Jennifer would be used to. Walking through the murky tunnels she was determined but frightened, her sister is the only family she has left since her brother passed away a few years ago and her parents when she was young. Death seemed to be something she would be familiar with and the sewer tunnels reeked of it. Nonetheless she continued on.

There is an eeriness about the place, which is to be expected since bodies have been found mutilated but still there is something else in the aura that words just can't explain. Jennifer armed with just a flashlight and a Swiss army knife which as it happens was her missing sisters. Up ahead she could hear someone walking. That distinct sound of footprints in water reminded her of when she was a kid hiding in the cold streets on London from her teachers at school when she was in trouble which was often after her parents passed.

The steps got closer and closer, there was a bend in the tunnels up ahead where she hid behind, it was a blind spot for anyone coming up the way towards her. Sweat was dripping from her body, out through every tiny pore there was. She knew this could and was possibly the man who took her sister. The shadow of the person passed by, she was ready, knife in hand,   3.....2.....1............

Stealthily creeping up she was right behind him now, she could smell his scent but her hands started to shake , she couldn't go through with it. The man was well past her now as she sat crying into her arms thinking of how she was such a coward. Her self-esteem issues from when she was a kid all came back now, she cussed herself endlessly until she heard a scream coming from the direction the man went down. A scream of utter terror and pain rang through the tunnels. She got herself together, thinking who done this if that was the killer?

Just a few feet away she could see a body up ahead. In the water which now had a hint of that blood red colour there was an ear and finger floating down towards her. Stuck between seeing who this person that lay there was and running back the other way because whoever done this would be close she decided she had to take a look at the body. Another self-esteem breakdown wasn't something she could go through right now.

On the body she could barely look at the man's face but on his shirt she noticed a badge, it was a City of London Police Force badge. The relief over not stabbing him moments ago quickly vanished, this was a death no person deserved. As her thoughts were starting to get darker there was a sound of movement coming from the walls. That infested sound that would often intrude on houses around the London estates in Winter time.

Out through a passageway in the walls came what must of been hundreds of sewer rats just as big as a house cat. These rats weren't just ordinary rats, their eyes were red, saliva drooled from their mouths and they made a very hostile screeching sound that sent the fear down Jennifer's spine like a shock of electricity.  Time was not much longer, one rat pounced at her but she was able to kick it away like an out of place balloon.Another tried but the same fate was in store. A third and fourth one hurdled at her together but Jennifer swiped at them with the knife, slicing open their stomachs. The rats then circled her, inching closer by the second.

Before Jennifer knew it they were all over her. From her waist down they covered every inch of her body, nibbling at her flesh. The rats now had her in their grasp and on to her knees she fell as they now completely had her at their will. She could fight no longer.  Just as she was fading away she looked to her right into the passageway which the rodents came from and she could see the dismembered corpse of her sister laying there. This was the last image of her death stricken life.

It's All Good I'm On The Inside

Kids joyfully ran around playing after the Helping Hand school had closed its doors at 3.30 p.m. The school consisted of 75 kids all aged between 6-9 who had trouble in a normal learning situation, they were administered here as a way of meeting their educational requirements. The atmosphere at the school was one of a very friendly and engaging nature with their slogan hanging above the entrance "A home away from home". 

The teachers promoted well-being as being a primary attribute for the kids to take away with them each day. Everything inside the four small classrooms was that of a positive nature, kids were rewarded for everything such as taking part as there was no first, second or third place and of course coming in last place or not being up to standard were words/phrases that were forbidden in these classrooms. The reward system seemed to work if not a bit over the top; kids were even applauded when they came back from the bathroom clean, "Congratulations on another small step in achieving independence " the teachers would gleefully praise each kid as they came back from the bathroom.

When school finished a bell would ring. The tone of the bell was like that from a cartoon. The class would all join together along with the teachers in a circle and pray, exclaiming how thankful they were to have had another wonderful day and hope for many more in the future. It was then the kids danced around the long narrow street that was flanked by tall trees outside the houses that ran from the large metal gates at the entrance down to the school at the end . In fact it was more than a street , it was a community.

Kids who had these learning difficulties were selected from national and state schools nearby and offered a place at the Helping Hand until the quota was met. Their families were given a home for free as a way of the school being thankful for the opportunity to be able to teach their kid, it was their way of giving to the world. Inside the walls outside of the school was a grocery store , a sweet store, a chill out space for adults as it was called, a chapel and a small diner that had a laundry room attached to the back , sort of like an extension to a house. All these buildings sat on the right hand side of the long street, exactly two houses apart. 

The community was only constructed in the last year with this being the first selection of kids/families to be offered a place here. People on the outside, which was a run-down and waste town, remained very skeptical of the idea. Since it was first proposed and the site was picked and given the go ahead for works on it not many had approved of the project but it seemed that the money that was offered to procure the area was too much to turn down, even though no one could ever point exactly to where the money came from. This created a sort of enviousness from the outside people to those that were inside as they felt the "insiders" were given everything for nothing that the "outsiders" worked very hard for.

There was a segregation between the insiders and outsiders. Each time the gates would open for a community leader (teacher, priest, head of adult society, store owner) to go get supplies they would be met by derogatory insults from rightfully or wrongfully bitter and probably drunk men and women.  The walls surrounding the community was way too high for even the largest of excavator machine to see over. On top of the walls and gate was a laser triggered sensor that would alert the police on the outside who were given orders to look after the insiders. A few extra numbers on their paycheck secured this.

As the months passed , tensions grew.  The people outside grew with anger , especially seeing those cheerful leaders walking around all happy and smug looking. One wet evening an old shabby looking lady approached the gate and demanded to talk to one of the leaders. Her request was ignored by passers by so she handcuffed herself to the gate. She was now screaming deliriously for someone inside to talk to her and as she got louder the children started to notice her. Parents tried to usher their kids inside, the police were called but she didn't listen to them, guns were pointed at her head but she remained defiant that she wanted to talk to just one person inside.

The police waited for an opportunity but her being cuffed meant that openings were gonna be a bit more obscure than the norm. The lady was now kicking the gate , screaming herself hoarse. She reached into the deep pocket of her cardigan and took out a small knife, slowly cutting down her arm from wrist to elbow on the underside. The kids that remained seen this and started crying , never had they before seen anything bad in their sheltered life's, nevertheless an old lady carving down through her arm in the pouring rain with guns pointed at her.

All of the community were now gathered at the drama. One police man shot at the ground but the lady didn't even flinch. She pointed her cuffed and gruesome arm at the leaders screeching "You all shall pay for this, for your snobbery and haughty carry on towards us out here. You shall pay, you shall all pay!!" Right when she finished a machete from one of the police officers swung down upon the lady's arm cutting it clean off. She lay on the ground bleeding out, the community leaders walked over and looked one of the officers in their eyes "Put this peasant down". The crack of the gun was all that was heard next followed by the image of two officers dragging her dead body away, blood mixed with the rain streaming behind. 

The community never had a problem since. Over time it has expanded in terms of infrastructure and the incident was never mentioned again, it never happened and no kid would dare bring it up. A year to the day of the lady at the gate, as the leaders called it while whispering to each other, the community had a gathering. It was a celebratory gathering to show how far they had come. The day started off as bright as midday at summer but that didn't last long. Grey clouds started to gather in the sky, rain was starting to pour down and lightning tore through the atmosphere,

The celebrations were soon brought to a halt as families ran inside their homes. The leader of the teachers was dashing to her house, fumbling her keys at the doorway when she heard a whisper "I told you that you shall pay". It sounded so close it was like it was inside her head. She turned around frantically and at the entrance gate she could see a shadowy figure stand there; cuffed to the gate with her arm torn to pieces and her head with a bullet hole in it. Suddenly she could hear the lady screaming so violently it caused her to drop to the ground. The clang of the handcuffs on the metal bars of the gate along with the exorbitant loud scream rang through the teachers gaining momentum until boom!! That was the sound her head made when it exploded.

No body ever knew what happened to the teacher. Some think she ran away while others think that one of the outsiders had got her while on a supply run. Whatever the theory she was never seen again, no trace of her death, she just vanished. The following year on the same date, the clouds gathered again, rain came down and lightning scuttled around the skies. The grocery store/sweet store owner was heading home when he heard a noise. It was a whisper and when he turned around he saw a shadow figure of an old lady.......

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Horror duets (1)

                                                    Bok Bok!!
                   By Markus Porkwing and folklore of the mind .                                                               
                       @MarkusPorkwing.      @Mindfolklore

Friday evening, I got the bus out to my parents place which was a large house in a small coastal village,  a fishing village to be exact. My duties were to watch over the place as they spent the weekend away while also looking after my dads chickens and hens who he cared for abnormally. He’s retired so I guess this gave him something to do with his free time. I didn’t mind as it also gave me something to do for the next two nights I have to spend here.  It wasn’t like there was much else going on,  the village was very desolate especially at night when it was almost eerie like.  The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks provided some sort of sound,  the rest was provided by your own thoughts. Although I say this,  I liked the break from the city as I strolled up the long driveway,  keys in hand.

Before I entered the house, I turned around. I had arrived just before dark, just like I wanted and the sun was beginning to set. They had a gorgeous view. It didn’t disappoint as the sun was setting into the ocean. Casting a reddish glow upon the sky and land. Beautiful. I stood there a minute or two absorbing the grandeur of it all. I don’t get sunsets like this in the city.  The house, I believe was built in the late 1880’s or so, I think that’s what my dad had said once before. Very rustic, very old and sometimes very creepy. I didn’t grow up here, it was more of a place my parents had moved to when he retired from his job in the Silcon Valley. I set the keys down, dropped my bags to the floor and stretched out the stiffness from the ride. I walked right up to the living room window, which had a great view of the village down below. I could see some of the lights glowing. Some headlights and brake lights moving about. I could even see the lights of fishing boats and buoys. This is going to be a nice, relaxing weekend.

I walked towards to fridge and made myself a quick sandwich. I had hoped that there was going to be some beer inside but unfortunately I had to settle for a coke, my parents were always the “No beer until you are of age” type even though me and the guys had often snuck into bars and got beer from stores. Darkness had completely taken over at this point and my inability to sit and watch television was gnawing at me, it’s like there’s a constant irritation somewhere inside me anytime that I have to sit for a while and do these same thing. So, I went out back. I went out to the small barn which was more like a shed if I’m honest. Out there I could hear them, the noise coming from them was so constant.  That clucking and just general annoying and disgusting bird noise that didn’t stop, how does he love these so much , I just don’t get it!!!  Intrusive thoughts started to take over .

I don’t understand how being here only a few hours could possibly be getting to me. I actually forgot how much I hated the sound of those cackling chickens. Through the dark I couldn’t see the chickens yet. The lights from the house behind me cast my shadow before me and it led the way towards the shed. Eventually as I drew closer, I could see some movement among the small coop on the side of the shed and hear that clucking and gawking noises they make. I was about ten feet away when the chickens stopped making noise suddenly, this made me stop and listen. No sound. Stupid chickens, creeping me out. I approached the coop and kneeled. I peered into the darkness and I could see a hen. Yes, clearly a hen, I could see its beady little eyes looking at me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see more of them, all staring at me. Same little creepy eyes locked onto me.

I froze for a few seconds and my mind started racing.  I ran inside , up the stairs to my backpack. I frantically searched through it but they weren’t there,  this made my paranoia and anxieties even worse,  I knew the dangers of forgetting my medication.  Down at the kitchen I splashed water on my face repeatedly but every time I closed my eyes all I could see was those hens looking at me,  getting closer and closer,  bigger and bigger with each blink. I was slowly losing myself and what’s worse is that I knew it was happening and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  My parents didn’t know about this problem I had and I wanted to keep it this way.  Why couldn’t I of just packed my meds,  it’s normally the first thing I put into the bag. It all started to take over,  the urges were getting stronger and stronger until I finally gave in.  I walked across to the cutlery drawer,  took out the sharpest knife I could find and started to pace slowly towards the shed. It was like I had no control.

It was cool outside but I was sweating. I can’t believe I forgot my meds, I stopped walking. What am I doing? I turned towards the house. I was about to go back, thinking this was all a mistake... paranoia from missing my meds I kept telling myself . Then I heard the hens cackling and bok boking. Bok bok in my head. BOK BOK IN MY HEAD! Make it stop. I turned around and with a deep breath of rage I moved in on the chickens. They were mocking me. BOK BOKING! BOK BOK BOK BOK! GET out of my head! I was at the door of the coop. Little beady eyes stared up at me, all the while all I could hear was BOK BOK BOK. PLEASE GOD MAKE THEM STOP!

The next thing I remember was the line of cars showing up at my door and me looking down at my bloody hands surrounded by many carcasses. It was like the sirens and lights snapped me out of wherever I was. I don’t remember killing them,  I don’t remember throwing their dead bodies on the road,  I don’t remember screaming continuously,  I don’t remember any of it. Doctor , do you believe me?  I can’t leave this place,  ever!!  I don’t want to go,  I know they are waiting for me.  Please!!! 

The door opened and closed , I sat relieved that my doctor bought that story again.  I knew what I was doing,  I hated those fucking chickens and hens and everything else out in that stupid narrow-minded village.  The only other thing I hate more was that the police arrived before I could get to my neighbours.

The Dark Side of Christmas - The Grither

When people think of the North Pole what are some of the things that come to mind?  Well for most it's gotta be where Santa lives,  where his reindeer's reside and where his elves work all year round. It's just an all-round happy place for that special time of year. Covered in snow and with it being the northernmost point of the earth, there is a certain mystique about the place.

This mystique for the most part is of positive curiosity,  everyone wants to see where Santa supposedly comes from,  but there is also a dark and dangerous side here that lies within the caves of the region.  A subject of folklore to most, The Grither is often talked about by families around a fire.

This was the case one Christmas Eve. Excited kids asked their father to tell them a story,  a scary story,that they are now old enough to hear one.  Their father after his patience was tested finally gave in to their demands and sat the two kids in from of the fire while he sat on the couch ready to start story time.

He started " There is a creature who lies within the caves of the North Pole called The Grither. No one ever knows what it looks like because everyone that had seen it had been eating by it.  Hands were as big as basketballs supposedly and the smell of rotten flesh from it's body you could smell a mile away. The monster is as big as your imagination allows and it is the most terrifying thing to roam around this time of year"

One of the kids whined "I think I have heard enough dad,  maybe I am not old enough for this yet" the other kid looked at his brother before asking his father to continue.  "Oh he has to continue now,  you have said his name" shouted in the kids Mother from the room outside. The story continued after their father reassured them " Don't worry my sons it's just a story"

"He is said to come for those that mention it's name and don't finish the story. When he comes for you all you will see is a....... " , one of the kids abruptly stopped him " Please Dad I don't wanna know what happens,  maybe next year when I'm older and braver ", his father agreed to call a halt to the story and told his boys to get ready for bed.

As the parents were bringing the boys upstairs the front door blew open,  a blizzard of snow took over the boys vision and when it passed they couldn't believe what they had seen.  A large figure covered in blood stood at the front door.  There was that horrible wet smell reeking from the heavy breathing intruder.  The boys quickly ran upstairs and hide under their bed, loud thuds soon followed. 

They huddled together while shaking with fear. The bedroom door opened slowly and inside it came, step by step searching and sniffing around the room. A strange noise came from it's mouth before it called out each of the boys names. The older boy opened its eyes and peeped out from under the bed waiting to see some terrifying creature, but what he saw was a pair of human legs and a white pair of trainers.

"Don't worry boys it's just me messing around, I got the costume from the store, come out from under the bed" playfully and humorously said the father, much to the boys relief. They joked and laughed about it until it really was time for bed and their mother came up and tucked them both in.

Sometime during the night, when all were fast asleep, the front door opened once more. Dirty prints were left on the steps of the stairs and the banister was covered in green goo. The boys woke suddenly to a large shadow standing over them both. "Dad stop we know it's you" said one of them while giggling along with it.

The bathroom lights went on and this time to the boys utter terror, in shouted their father "Boys, who are you talking to?"

Elisa Day

When people talk about Medieval Europe two of the most common answers are narrow cobblestone villages and beautiful women. Elisa Day was indeed a beautiful young woman who wandered through the narrow cobblestone streets. Lonely and in search for her perfect man , it was this very search that brought about her untimely and brutal death.

Elisa was known around the village for being one of the most beautiful women there was but no man would ever approach her, fear of rejection was one reason but another and possibly the main one was that she was slightly odd. Her head was always down, her long red hair not far from touching the cold cobble path, she walked like she didn't want anyone to interact with her but deep inside it was what she desired most.

Her beauty was said to be like that of the wild roses that grew down by the river, all bloody and red. Sultry in looks but misunderstood to the many, Elisa was a forlorn figure that longed for an escape and one day her wish was granted.  

A young outsider appeared in the village one cold and frosty morning. He was tall in stature but slim , he had dark hair that flopped down just below his ears and green eyes that were trance like once you made contact with them. He spotted Elisa walking solemnly through the streets and immediately he felt something inside,  something he never felt before,  but it made him feel alive although nervous he knew he had to try and talk to her. 

When he approached her Elisa seemed standoff-ish at first as if she thought he was after something or someone put him up to it,  but he quickly showed her that his intention was all born from his own thoughts and innocence was all they were.  She was mesmerized by his eyes and how softly he spoke,  it was almost like a language she didn't understand by the words he used. They spoke for hours without noticing,  they were both in as deep as each other and as the night was closing in he offered to walk her home,  to which she accepted.

At the door he offered his hand out to shake but Elisa misconstrued this as a motion for a hug to which they both laughed at before eventually hugging and saying goodnight.  They planned to meet up the day after and neither did renage on their agreement, 1.30 p.m on the button their eyes met each other in the distance as they walked closer and closer,  neither of them even blinking.

The young man had brought something,  it was a single rose and when he offered it to her he whispered in her ear that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of looking at and that the rose was a symbol of her long red hair that smelt so good and couldn't get out of his mind all night.  They yet again talked until dark before again he walked her home but this time a hug was not on offer but he took her in his arms and kissed her ruby-red lips.  They planned to meet the next day.

On the third day he had mentioned to her the night before to meet down by the river,  the spot where the wild roses grew.  She agreed to it and arrived at the spot waiting for his arrival. As she stood gazing into the distance and a smile on her face that would brighten up the darkest winters night she felt a hand clench hers and turned around swiftly to be met by a passionate kiss that sent her into another world in her head.  She didn't want it to end but not only did the kiss end but so did her life.

Moments later as her back was turned she was struck at the back of her head by the young man holding a rock. He held her in his arms one last time and whispered to her gently "All beauty must die.... " before beating her to death with the rock. The rose she was given the night before was placed between her teeth as her body was pushed into the flowing river.  The man stood watching her body drift off with the rock in his clenched left hand, blood dripping from it into a small stream that met with the river. 

As the years passed people sometimes asked where the beautiful yet detached lady had gone, no one  had any answers so she was forgotten about over time. There have been reports that a lady similar to her in appearance appears at the time of her death every year on the banks of the river. Supposedly she looks like she had done but the more you look at her,  her face starts to morph into her face of death,  all bashed and bloody. 

Other reports have said that when this ghostly figure appears the river turns red and roses appear along the bank spelling the words "All beauty must die" and you are then cursed until you meet your gruesome demise at the hands of this once beautiful and innocent young lady.