Do Your Winter Ghost Story Here!

[crabapple]

Do it! Post a short ghost story, true or fictional, as you like...make it a teeny tiny one, though. It's wintry outside and somewhat blustery, and it's nice to have a little ghost tale during the cold weather. wouldn't you agree? As a basic guideline, make 'em short enough to enjoy whilst sipping some hot cocoa, tea, or coffee. I'll put one up shortly. Bundle up, folks!

[Roderick Usher]

This is one of my twisted children's poems. It was down in the horror fiction post, but what the hell - I'm a whore.

Enjoy.

The Pond
(c) 2006 S.K.

Back behind my grandma’s house, where the wild grass grows,
There lies a pond, all inky black, which chills me to my bones.
It bubbles and it gurgles but I cannot tell you why
And when I gaze upon the pond time goes whizzing by.

One day I stared into that tarn until the sun had set
And that’s when something happened that I’m sure I’ll not forget.
The buzzing of the dragonflies and croaking of the frogs
Ended all at once as silence fell across the bog.

Then a ripple shimmered on the surface of the pond
And a rotten hand, ghostly white, reached up from beyond.
It beckoned me into the depths, and helpless, I obeyed
As water poured into my lungs and all my flesh decayed.

Through the murky bracken I could see my captor’s face
And screaming peels of bubbles, fell into its dark embrace.
The one who pulled me under had a face that looked like mine
He smiled and slipped away and from the water he did climb.

Still lying on the bottom of that cold, black pond am I
While the ghost imposter takes my place at grandma’s side.
And if you should come wandering to my pond some summer’s eve
I’ll pull you down and take your place and leave you trapped like me.

[urgeok]

Once upon a time a small balding man named Bob was hurrying home from at the office on a cold crisp winter night. Bob was worried and frustrated because he had that very day promised his wife he'd be home on time to help her with the christmas shopping. He almost made it too - until his boss caught up with him on the way out the door and hauled him back in to work on a report. Due immediately - but nowhere near complete due to the usual poor planning of his superior.
After a difficult and demanding day the last thing he needed was to be harangued by Linda the second he crossed the threshhold but that was his inevitable lot if he didnt get the lead out.
Bob knew from past experience that the amout of abuse will be increased proportionally to the number of minutes he is late.

Speeding along and with his focus on avoiding a major night wasting blow-out, Bob didnt see the long stretch of slick worn ice at the top of the cement stairs leading down to the path that would provide him with a shorter way home. He was almost mid air - wile e. coyote style before he realized that he had left the earth. Feet shooting out first, flailing his arms, Bobs neck snapped loudly as the back of his head bore the brunt of his weight as it hit the bottom stair 18 feet below.

As a crowd of pedestrians gathered and the ambulance was called, back in Bob and Linda's modest bungalo, Linda was storming all over the house - cursing Bob and musing which one of Bob's Christmas present to return to the store. This of course changed to silence, then sobbing after the police came to her door with the news.

One year from the night of Bobs unfortunate accident a young man was found dead at the bottom of those same cement stairs with a broken back and head injuries. He was on the way to the corner store for cigarettes and had been gone only 10 minutes before a small boy dragging a snow sled (on the way to St Mary's hill to meet his buddies) found him.

Not much was thought of the incident until roughly a year after that it happened again, this time to June, a mother of three. Her topple down the stairs wasn't fatal but it left her with permanent brain damage.
At the scene of the accident one of the paramedics heard her mumbling something incoherently so he leaned in closely - at the same time telling her
"take it easy, dont talk or move" but she continued and he was sure he made out the words "a man, a man, pushed..."
The paramedic assumed it was damage induced randomness and immediately let it slip from his mind.


Eight Years Later

Sgt. Michael Dennison arrived home from his shift at 5:15 on the dot. After doffing his uncomfortable shoes he popped into the kitchen to sneak a pre-dinner snack and found a note on the fridge from his wife Maddie letting him know that she was going to grab some egg nog and a couple of other things for when the Briars (the next door neighbours) come over for a little 'christmas cheer'. As they've only been in the house (and the town) for six months, it was nice to have made such good friends with the Briars so quickly .. they were decent people and so far - fun to hang out with.

Right next to the note he found the hand written shopping list she no doubt meant to take with her. Figuring that it would be quicker to run the note to her than have her go back out again for the items she forgot - he wriggled back into the uncomfortable shoes and started out after her.

The closest grocery store was the IGA just 10 minutes away. Since her car was still in the drive he knew she was walking, where she went, and what path she would take to get there so he strolled along smiling to himself at the thought of catching her making the absent minded goof.
The smile slowly fell off his face when he rounded the corner and saw the group of people gathered at the foot of the stairs leading up to the main road.
A body was being picked up on a stretcher to be placed in the back of the ambulance that was parked on the road at the top of the stairs.

Even from a distance Michael knew it was a fatality as he could see the sheets were pulled up over the victims head. His shift was over but he was still in uniform so he decided he'd better hurry over and see if he could help.
The ambulance men were taking the body up the stairs carefully when the lead man slipped - then caught himself, the jostling of the body causing one arm to come loose from under the sheets.
In almost the same instant Michael saw the sleeve of his wife's powder pink winter coat, and right under his feet, the already frozen pool of eggnog where the body had been.

In the fog of the days that followed, one thing stood out in Michaels memory, something he grasped at and clung to like a drowning man with a small piece of wood.
He recalled the words of an ambulance driver at the scene. While getting ready to leave one of the paramedics remarked to another officer at the scene that "this is just like last year" to which the policeman replied "and the year before that"
During the weeks of his bereavement leave Michael thought about that short exchange a lot. So much so that he returned to work early 'to catch up and keep busy'
Within a couple of minutes he found what he was looking for : an article detailing the accidental slipping death of a teenager at the exact same location as his wife on Nov 23rd, a year ago to the day from Maddies's accident.
Fueled by this information and a slow creeping hunch, Michael continued to dig and was rewarded with key information almost immediately.
There were 10 other fatal accidents at the same location all on or around November 23rd. There was also one non-fatality that occured eight years prior but after a couple of phone calls this was found to be a dead end as the woman in question passed away in her sleep 2 years ago at her home.
"This is crazy" he thought. "Every year for 11 years"
Michael compiled his findings into a file and placed it in the top drawer of his desk, then began the slow lonely process of rebuilding his life.

It was November 24th 7:30PM, almost one year later when the call Michael was waiting for was picked up by the station dispatcher.
Someone slipped down a high flight of stairs - sounds like a fatality.
Michael picked up the call and headed to the spot. He didnt need to hear the address, he knew.
Everything was as he expected it to be. The Crowd, the ambulance, almost an exact replay of the year before when he lost Maddie.
Only this time the body was still at the foot of the stairs surrounded by medical personelle. Michael went to the body. The paramedics were finished going through the motions - there was no way in heaven or earth this man could still be alive. He had landed heavily on the side of his head, his body weight forcing his neck to snap and turn completely around.
His body was on its front, legs akimbo, but his face, still wearing a look of astonishment, was facing the stars. Dead on impact.
Michael scanned the faces in the crowd, trying to remember if any of them were present a year ago, but he couldn't even remember how he got home that night. He ran up the stairs and looked up and down the street but saw nothing - he didnt even know what he was looking for.
He went back down the stairs and mingled with the officers, mostly listening - not saying much.
When at last the ambulance had left, the crowd dispersed, and the other officers had departed in their squad cars, Michael went back up ther steps.
He scoured the immediate area with a flashlight on his hands and knees. Looking for something, anything. A trip wire, foot prints, anything that might explain the impossible.
Finding nothing, knees freezing, Michael stood up and turned off the flashlight. As he did he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up from a chill that shouldnt have penatrated the collar of the heavy police issue winter coat. He turned and thought - for a split second - he saw..... something. The undefined outline of a man, with the lack of clarity one would have when just waking up after a long sleep. At the same time he felt a hard push on his chest causing his legs go out from under him.
The last thing his brain registered before being crushed on the cold hard pavement below was a quiet voice:
"Have a nice trip, see you next fall !"

[urgeok]

ps. i know it sucks but i just tore it out now while at work in a couple of minutes ...with a lot of interruptions..

its based on a christmas card i made once hahahaha

[Marley's Ghost]

Twas a cold day in winter
A NorEastern did blow
visability was lacking
in the wind and the snow

I trudged ever onward
to see my beloved one more time
To tell her I love her
and that all would be fine

The figure that followed
in this barren land
Was trying to prevent me
from my task at hand

Please leave me alone
I shouted to deaf ears
as it grew ever closer
It would catch me I fear

But I need just one more moment
to hold her and kiss her lips
The figure was unyeilding
and had me in its grip

I pleaded and begged
but it was all for naught
I couldn't even barter
This thing could not be bought

I looked down from above
My wife dressed all in black
This fucking bastard
won't let me go back

I should have told her everyday
how much she meant to me
But we take our loved ones for granted
Not thinking of what could be

Let my tale be a lesson
From Marley's Ghost to you all
Don't neglect the ones you love
In case The Reaper comes to call

[ShankS]

I was trying to be sarcastic earlier, damn word count only allows 10,000 words max, 'Ghost' screenplay was nearly 1/4 mill.

[urgeok]

I was trying to be sarcastic earlier, damn word count only allows 10,000 words max, 'Ghost' screenplay was nearly 1/4 mill.


well, do a rewrite :) maybe it'll be used when they remake that masterpiece eventually :)

[Zero]

http://i134.photobucket.com/albums/q108/zerohdc/monkey_gone_to_heaven.jpg

[stubbornforgey]

The burial was complete..
The last of the well wishers were still mingling around as the widow was preparing for her 1st night alone in the house.
She was hoping that at least one of her adult children would spend this night with her for she couldn't bear the thought of being all by herself in such a large house, with so many dark corners and so many hidden secrets.
Ok' she thought to herself..'you went a little too far with the rat poison this time..but ah well..he had to go sooner or later'
'I mean ..shit..how many fucken bottles of the crap did i have to drip feed him before it actually started to work..damn .. he must of have had a cast iron stomach'
After wiping away her well rehearsed tears and seeing the last of her guests off she slowly closed the door ..allowing her visitors to see the pain in her eyes as the door finally clicked shut..hoping that her sad face will be forever etched on thier memories on thier ride home and hoping she would be the topic of thier conversation...
'Aw poor mary'..'whats she going to do now'?..'gosh..and they were so in love'

The 1st hint of rain began to fall as she prepared herself for bed and it got heavier as she felt herself drift of into what was to be a peaceful sleep.
Sometime during her slumber she heard a strange sound coming from her wardrobe..a sound so eerie ..it trespassed into her dreams..as if calling her to sit up and take notice..in which she did with a startled jump.
By now , the house was in total darkness and the storm was well on its way..
'hello'..she called??..'hello' she repeated ..only this time with less uncertainty.
As she was about to climb from her bed to investigate..her closet flew open with such force..it shook the hinges of the door .
Nobody heard her screams as her beloved in all his zombie glory made his way towards her..nobody heard her as her beloved reached for her and kissed her fully on the lips as the poison mixed with stinking saliva dripped from his own.
The rest of the neighbourhood slept on as her beloved ripped off her head and began to feast on what was to become his 1st taste of human flesh.!!

[crabapple]

oh my goodness!~

[crabapple]

Okay, here's mine. It's not too much but maybe you'll like it. This happened about ten years back. A friend of mine named Frank had bought a house out in the desert a good hour and a half drive from Los Angeles. Real estate was cheap in this area because seriously, this was way in the middle of nowhere and I thought he was a little kooky for buying something this far out. You had to drive through lots of totally barren desert just to get to their neighborhood, which was just a few streets stuck together. And some of the streets weren't even paved. I only mention this to make the point that by the time I got there for my first visit, I hadn't seen anyone for miles and miles and that feeling of being "isolated" was quite pronounced.

Anyway, it was my understanding that this neighborhood itself was only a few years old and had been nothing but rocks and tumbleweeds, probably since forever. So his wife Gloria has cooked this amazing dinner of beef brisket and fresh rolls and stuff. Dinner is nice, and so Frank says, "I bet you want to sleep in the haunted room tonight. Well actually that's the only room, unless you want the couch in the livingroom." It was a two bedroom house. He and his wife had the master bedroom of course, and the other one was like a small guest bedroom.

Naturally I think he's having a fun on me. I am also aware that the house is only a few years old and they are the first occupants. So the idea that one of the rooms is haunted doesn't make a whole lot of sense, right? I ask him what the deal is. "Well, I'm not going to tell you. It's not a big deal, really, it's a really subtle thing. You sleep there tonight, and in the morning you can tell me if you noticed anything. That way you can't blame me for suggesting anything to you."

This bothers me, because I figure, well, if he's not going to even tell me what it is, and wants me to find out myself, then there must be something to it. So I bring my stuff into the room, and I am kind of disgusted by the girly bed they give me...I don't know why, it's just all kind of...too nice and too unslept-in. It looks like a display bed in a colonial museum or something. It's all firm and cold, in fact the whole room is cold, this is the desert, remember, so anything that's in direct contact with the elements outside will become like a popsicle on a cold night. I never feel comfortable sleeping away from home, anyway, so I am noticing all the little details with dissatisfaction. One thing that seems reassuring is that the room itself is really small, so if it is haunted, then literally, there isn't much room for a haunt. Whatever the haunting is, it's got to be something pretty damn small.

(Continued in a moment.)

[crabapple]

So I get ready for bed, turn the lights out and tuck myself in, and I'm honestly just hating every minute of this. I hate the bed, I hate the quiet of the house, I hate the creepy feeling of being in the middle of the desert. I guess I'm some sort of a city guy, and lights and traffic sounds are very comforting to me. So naturally I have trouble falling asleep, feels like I'm just lying in the dark there with my eyes closed for an hour. And at some point I don't remember, I fall asleep.

A while later I hear the window rattling and I kind of half wake up. The window is shaking intermittently like someone is outside grabbing it somehow. I think for a second, It's a burglar! and then suddenly I am wide awake and listening to this rattling window, but I have my eyes closed. Then I realize, this is probably the haunting Frank has been talking about. I open my eyes and look up at the window and I can't see anything, it's just dark out there. The window is still shaking now but it's calming down and now it's just sort of trembling, rattling softly for about twenty more seconds or so. And then it stops.

I think, "We're in the middle of the desert. A person would have to drive out here to even get here, if that is someone outside. And if that is someone, then they're probably freezing their ass off." I wait a while, listening for the sound of wind--there isn't any. The shaking window thing doesn't happen again. Is something else going to happen? I wait for the haunting to get worse. But there's nothing. It takes me another hour to pass out again and then I think I only nap for a little while because I wake up and the sun is just starting to come up and I feel like I haven't slept at all.

So we have toast and weak, lame coffee for breakfast and he says, "So did you hear it?"

"The window was shaking," I said.

"Yep--that's it. It happens every few nights," he tells me. "It usually happens about three or four in the morning. The first time I heard it, it scared the crap out of me because I thought someone was trying to break in. Then I realized that we were out in the middle of nowhere and if it's someone, they're crazy for being out here in the middle of the night. There's wild animals and rattlesnakes and stuff out there, and it's just not a smart place to be walking around outside at night."

"Hmm," I said. "So you don't know what it is at all, huh?"

"Nope."

He moved out of there a few years later and found a place closer to the city, so that's all I can tell you about it.

[stygianwitch]

"The window was shaking," I said.

"Hmm," I said. "So you don't know what it is at all, huh?"

"Nope."

He moved out of there a few years later and found a place closer to the city, so that's all I can tell you about it.

Has he ever enquired from the new tenants/owners whether they've experienced it, or if they've discovered what it is?

[crabapple]

Actually no, he never looked into it. It didn't seem to bother him too much. But it would be hard to figure out what it was, because the house was new, and this was in a new neighborhood that had never been built on, miles and miles out in the middle of the desert. A ghost couldn't pick a lonelier spot to go out and be in.

[crabapple]

Do more! I wanna read more stories. Surely some others amongstus can post a story ...?