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Strange Caller
When investigating the Sinner Killer of New York, Detective Henry Stark got an alarming phone call which nearly ended the whole case: "Hello." Henry answered the phone. "Whose your favourite serial killer?" The strange voice replied. "What? Who is this? Pranking the police is a serious offence!" "I'm the one you've been looking for." "You're... The Sinner Killer?" Henry gasped, rushing to his feet and beckoning other police officers to track down the caller's location. Henry could hear Sinner clapping his hands over the phone line. "When did you get so smart!" The voice laughed. "Why did you do it?" Henry asked. "Well... Why the fuck not?" The Sinner replied. "Because it's evil!" Henry snapped. "So is everyone else in this god forsaken city!" Sinner growled, sounding like some wild, rabid animal, "everyone's a sinner, even you Detective Henry Stark!" "So you think murder is the answer?!" "Yes!" "No." Henry shook his head, growing impatient, his fellow police officers were struggling to find the killer's location, keeping this psycho on the line was going to be difficult, sickeningly; Henry had to entertain the killer's disturbed ideals, "but... Why don't you enlighten me?" Sinner laughed in reply; "ok, Detective... I kill because we live in a world of faithless, sinful, greedy and disgusting people. There are gangsters and pimps. Whores and perverts. They're everywhere, around every street corner and they don't deserve to live." "Why do you say that?" Henry asked, trying not to vomit. "I just told you!" Sinner growled, "you're a bit slow ain't you?" Henry held his breath, trying not to scream in anger, he eyed the other officers, they were still tracking the phone call. "Cat got your tongue?!" Sinner giggled creepily. "I'm speechless!" Henry chuckled weakly, pretending to be impressed. "Now you see my genius!" Sinner replied, his voice sounded happy, as if smiling. "Yes I do." Henry almost gagged, entertaining this freak was torture. One of the cops in Henry's office nodded at the detective, indicating that they had finally found the killer's location. Henry grinned. "You're on smart cookie!" He said to Sinner. "I really appreciate that, Detective. Really I do. Oh yes I do!" "Tell me how you kill them?" Henry asked, as a whole squad of armed police men exited the station, they were heading towards the phone booth now where Sinner was calling from. "You already know that, Detective." Sinner replied, "you've seen my work." "Oh yeah..." Henry forced a laugh, "I like the time you beheaded that prostitute." He lied, and it hurt his soul to even say such a disgusting thing. "Oh did you? That little piece of lust deserved everything that came to her!" Sinner laughed, then came the sounds of police sirens in the background of Sinner's phone call, "well... It was nice talking, Doc. But I gotta go!" "NO WAIT!" Henry cried, but Sinner already hung up and fled. The police couldn't find him, he had disappeared, realising the boys in blue were on their way. The investigation continued and they were no step closer to finding this monster. Henry hated himself for even talking to Sinner, the conversation had made him sick, quite literally as he ran to the nearest toilet and puked his breakfast into the porcelain white bowl. Sometimes being a detective was more trouble than it's worth.
By Joseph Roy Wright10 months ago in Horror
Burning Man
Gregg Hardy always loved bonfire night, the classic British holiday on the fifth of November where Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the houses of parliament and failed miserably, only to be arrested. As part of that tradition, there was an effigy, which was typically a scarecrow or lifesized doll of Guy Fawkes that was lit on a bonfire. It has become a treasured holiday since its Inception in the 1600s that comes only five days after Halloween. In many ways, it is a similar holiday where people even dress up as Guy Fawkes and kids gather around to enjoy the festivities. There are many people who love both holidays equally and Gregg seemed to be one of those people. Unfortunately, there were always a lot of trouble makers knocking around this time of year too. Setting off fireworks in public and pranking people with other dangerous objects, such as sparklers and cheery bombs, etc. On one cold night in 2005, Gregg saw witness to a terrifying prank that went very, very wrong. Deadly wrong. Somebody (likely a teenager) was running around in a mustached Guy Fawkes mask, playing knock and run on hundreds of doors down a busy street in London on the night of Bonfire night. This prankster was leaving all kinds of fiery traps on people's doorsteps. Paper bags set on fire with dog shit in them, lit fireworks that were ready to blow up in the prank victim's face and smashed Molotov cocktails along the hard, concrete ground. The prankster was laughing manically, almost setting these houses on fire. Gregg was watching this scene unfold across the street where the prankster was running down. He didn't dare get involved, as burning alive because of some dumb kid's prank wasn't on his to-do list. However, his neighbour from across the street (who still had his Halloween decorations up, as if asking for trouble) came storming out of his house in a fit of rage that soon turned to panicked screams as the prankster had left five fireworks on his front garden that shot directly at the poor man who was exiting his home. In an instant, Gregg's neighbour was lit up like a Guy Fawkes effigy! The man screamed in agony, as he thrashed around wildly, falling to the floor and rolling around, quickly trying to extinguish the flames that had engulfed him. Gregg could only watch in horror as the horrifying, brutal and tragic death took place. That teenage prankster had already run further down the long street, he was out of sight now, fading into the darkness of night. Soon the fire spread from his neighbour's corpse to his front door, burning it in seconds, as the flames spread further, resulting in a huge house fire. Gregg called for a fire engine on his mobile phone, sirens arrived four minutes later with red flashing lights, glowing brighter than the fireworks that boomed in the black sky around them. Firefighters exited the big red truck and began extinguishing the flames with their hoses. A police car had arrived also, to question Gregg about what he saw. He told the police officer everything he witnessed, then a hunt for the killer in the Guy Fawkes mask was ordered. The police searched all night long, but there were many teenage kids who were running around dressed exactly like that, causing trouble that night. So nobody could charge any of them for a single crime. Perhaps one of those kids was the killer and he had to do community service or something like that, but true justice was not served that night. Gregg wasn't a big fan of bonfire night after that.
By Joseph Roy Wright10 months ago in Horror
Apple Tree Grave
Little Stephen Parker was cycling through the sunny countryside of Maine. He was a young boy, about seven years old, just having fun in the summer sun, a carefree child who didn't know what true horror was or meant quite yet. That was until he came upon an isolated apple tree, it was no taller than he was and it had obviously been planted by somebody from somewhere he'd never truly know. The tree was barely a tree yet, but it was growing up just like Stephen was and at the same height too. The boy named his new tree friend Harold and he would pick tiny apples from the growing tree, which was growing out of a large rectangle patch of short grass beside the much taller grass that surrounded it. The rectangle patch was long like a human coffin, Stephen's own mommy or daddy could lie down inside it and still have room to wiggle their toes. That made little Stephen giggle. He was too young and naive to question what was down there, perhaps the gardener (whoever he or she was) had planted lots and lots of apple seeds, but only one lucky tree got to grow up like Stephen did. This little boy was lonely though and didn't have many friends. "The other kids in school think I'm weird!" He cried to Harold the tree, "they're always picking on me." There would be no reply from the tree, but Stephen was a child with a wild imagination, he'd speak in a strange wooden voice pretending that was the tree. Talking to himself back and forth using his normal voice (as himself) and the silly wooden voice (for Harold the talking tree. "Maybe. You. Should. Take. My. Apples. To. School." Harold (Stephen doing a silly voice) would suggest. "You really think so?!" Replied Stephen (speaking normally). "Yes. Take. My. Apples. To. School." "You think the other kids will finally like me?!" "Yes. The. Other. Kids. Will. Like. That." "Oh goody!" Stephen would exclaim excitedly, "you're my best friend, Harold!" "You. Are. My. Best. Friend. Too!" "Yippee!" Stephen would pick ten different apples and put them in his bicycle's front basket, then joyfully cycle home in the lovely summer sun. "Mom, dad!" He sang, upon climbing off of his bicycle and entering their cozy little farm house. "What is it Stevy?!" His mother would call, running downstairs to hug her son. "Mommy! Mommy! I made a new friend today, mommy!" "Oh really!" His mom wept, she knew little Stephen had been struggling to make friends with the kids in school. "Yes Mommy, his name is Harold, Mommy! Harold!" "Harold?" She questioned the name, that surely wasn't a kid's name, "how old is he dear?" "I don't know, he's an apple tree!" "What?!" "He's an apple tree, mommy! Look!" He showed her one of the tiny green apples he picked from the tree, "I brought it home just for you and the other kids in school too!" "Oh well, that's nice!" Mommy laughed, she was relieved Stephen hadn't been talking to some creepy old man, "I'm sure the other kids in school would love the apples!" "Yippee!" Stephen exclaimed excitedly, running upstairs to tell daddy the good news. The next day in school; Stephen was suddenly the coolest kid around. Everyone wanted an apple, but he only had ten to give out. "Please get us more apples, Stevy!" The other kids cried, some of them were sucking up to him, "we'll be your best friend!" "Wow! Really?!" Stephen jumped in excitement! "Yes, really, really!" They all sang, it was beautiful. "Oh my gosh, yes! Yes! I'll get you all apples!" Stephen was the happiest little boy in the whole wide world. That weekend, Stephen visited his best friend Harold the tree. It had already grown an inch or two, possibly three in the time the two best friends had met. More tiny little apples were growing on the branches now too. "Hello Harold!" Stephen waved at his tree friend, before climbing off his bicycle, "my new friends loved the apples!" "I am. Glad. They. Like. Them!" Harold replied. "They sure do, buddy! Mind if I take more?!" "Oh. Yes. Take. Them. All!" "Thank you, Harold!" Stephen picked off more and more apples, filling his basket to the brim, "doesn't it hurt you?" "I. Have. Already. Been. Hurt. Stevy." Harold replied sadly. "I'm so sorry!" Stephen tried putting one of the apples back. "No. No. Not. That. Silly." Harold laughed. "Oh..." Stephen was confused, he didn't know what Harold meant, "what hurt you?" "Why. Don't. You. Bring. Your. Friends. Over. Next. Time?" Harold suggested, "they. Might. Know." "How?" Stephen asked. "I. Can. Tell. You. All. A. Fun. Little. Story." "Ok!" Stephen cheered, "that sounds fun, next time, we'll all come!" He smiled, before climbing back on his bicycle and returning home with all of his new apples. "Is Harold really an apple tree?" Daddy asked Stephen the moment he got home. "Yes, daddy, he sure is!" The boy replied, cheerfully, showing off his new apple collection, "my friends in school are going to love them!" "Are you sure they just don't want your apples, Stevy?" "What are you saying, that they're just pretending to get free food from me!" Stephen cried, then ran upstairs crying like a toddler, before slamming his bedroom door behind with a loud thump! "Debby, what do you know about this Harold the tree?!" Daddy stormed into the kitchen to confront Stephen's mother. "It's a real tree!" Debby stressed, "I saw him playing with it, look!" She pointed outside the window, on a tall hill upon the horizon stood a tiny apple tree, just barely visible from where there house was, "I saw him go up there, he talks to himself, pretending he's the tree. It's cute!" "So... Harold is just his imaginary friend?" "That's right, Kyle. Now stop worrying, ok? I love you!" She kissed him on the cheek then continued her cooking. Kyle wasn't entirely convinced, there was something else going on, he just couldn't put his finger on it. That Monday, all the other kids in school were lining up to eat Stephen's apples. "You're so cool, Stevy!" "This is awesome!" "Let's be friends!" "I love these apples!" "You're the best!" "These taste so good!" All the kids praised him, but Stephen couldn't help but wonder if his own father was right all along. Maybe these kids only saw him as a free lunch. So that's when Stephen decided to tell everyone in school about his magic tree friend. "The apple tree I'm getting these from is named Harold!" He told everyone on the playground, "I talk to him." Most of the kids laughed mockingly, but some were genuinely intrigued. "You... Talk to him?" One of the girls asked. "That's right, yes I do! I do!" Stephen nodded, "and he's my best friend. He wanted me to invite you all to meet him, what do you say?!" Half the school laughed, but at least twenty other students cried; "ok!" And agreed to go visit this talking tree of his. Maybe these would be Stephen's true friends. On Saturday, they all gathered around the short apple tree, it was standing a little taller than Stephen now, as it was growing little by little everyday. They were all thoroughly unimpressed, it was just a tiny little thing that only had small apples dangling off it. "Not quite the majestic tree you said it was." A kid named Mikey snorted. "Harold's my best friend!" Stephen cried. "What's that big long patch it's growing out of? it looks like an unmarked grave!" Jerry scoffed. "NO IT ISN'T!" Stephen whined. "It kinda... Looks like one." A girl named Cindy said. "No it doesn't!" Stephen wept. "You said it talks!" James snapped. "It does talk, it does!" Stephen nodded, "hello Harold!" "Hi. Kids." Stephen said to himself in that silly wooden voice. A couple of the kids laughed. "See, I told you! He really does talk!" Stephen cried (speaking in his normal voice). "Ok, sure!" Mikey entertained Stephen's delusions, "what's up, Mr Tree?!" "Hello. Mikey!" Stephen replied (speaking as Harold). "Growing anymore apples?" "Yes. You. Can. Pick. Them!" "Stephen said you'd tell us a story!" Jerry groaned. "Ok. Jerry. I'll. Tell. You. A. Story." "Do you have to talk slow like that?!" Mikey snapped at Stephen, "we'll be here all day!" "I'm not talking, it's Harold!" Stephen cried (returning to his normal voice). "No, it's you." Cindy said, "you're speaking as him." "That's not true!" "It is!" Jerry laughed, "I always knew you were the weird kid. Come on guys, let's go, this is lame!" "It's not lame!" Stephen cried. "I'm sorry..." Cindy walked away with the others, "I liked the apples though." Then she left, leaving poor little Stephen all alone with Harold the tree. "That's not true is it, Harold?" Stephen cried to the tree. "Tell. Your. Daddy." Harold replied. "Ok, I'll tell him how mean the other kids are!" "Oh daddy, it was awful! Just awful!" Stephen cried to Kyle. "What is it, son? What happened?" "The other kids in school, they said I was only pretending Harold was a talking tree. But he's real! He is real, daddy!" "There, there, son. I think Harold was just an imaginary friend." Kyle reassured him. "No daddy, he's a real talking tree! Honest! Honest!" "Sometimes reality is tough, kiddo!" Kyle patted his son on the back. "Je- Jerry said Harold was growing out of an unmarked grave!" "Wh- what?" Kyle stuttered. "AM UNMARKED GRAVE!" Stephen cried hysterically, "like th- the- there is a body under there! But it's not true! It's not!" "Ok, son... That's not possible. You're right. They were just teasing you." "I knew it!" Stephen sobbed, "they were never my friends at all." That night, as Stephen slept; Kyle ventured outside in the middle of the night to investigate this apple tree. The kids were right, there was a strange long, rectangular patch of grass much shorter than the rest, as if something tall as him was buried underneath there. "Oh my god." Kyle grimaced. He ran back home and grabbed a shovel, then returned to the apple tree. "Sorry about this 'Harold', Stephen's going to hate me for this!" Kyle winced, before digging into the short patch of grass. As his shovel dug deeper and deeper into the mud, something hard hit the bottom of his shovel. "Oh god..." Kyle shivered, as he pushed the mud aside, there was a rotting human skull beneath, and roots from the tree were growing out of the empty eye sockets. Somebody had killed this poor man (or woman) and buried their body underground and planted this apple tree to hide their tracks. Anyone else would've been able to tell what had really gone on, but to a small excitable child like Stephen, he just thought this was an innocent little apple tree. Kyle didn't know if his son had been talking to the corpse's ghost (possibly named Harold) this whole time. Or if it was all just some bizarre coincidence that he just so happened to make imaginary friends with a little tree, one that just so happened to have a dead body buried underneath it. Either way, nobody would ever know who buried the body under this tree, as not even the best Detective in Maine could guess who would have done this. The tale of the apple tree is one of the most eerie and disturbing murder mysteries in American history.
By Joseph Roy Wright10 months ago in Horror
Stench From The Basement
Andy and Juliet Springfield were newly weds and they wanted a brand new, shiny house to start their new and happy life together. They were Americans living in California, so they had lots of sunny, beautiful places to pick from. The couple searched for months and months and months, looking desperately for a good house to settle down into. Yet, most places were far too expensive and the sacrifices they'd have to make simply weren't worth it. As Spring became Summer and Summer became Autumn which soon entered Winter, the choices they had were getting more and more expensive and risky. That was until they stumbled across a deal of a lifetime. They found a beautiful three story house that sat by a creek far away from the rustle and bustle of the city, and deep within the lush, rich and gorgeous American countryside. It was perfect, so why was it so bloody cheap? Andy dared to ask about the humongous elephant in the room and the salesman took a deep long sigh; "the previous family disappeared." He said. "Without a trace?" Andy asked. "Yes." He winced, "but ghost stories don't exist." He smiled weakly, "perhaps they just up and left, in the middle of the night." "Strange." Andy shivered. "I guess you're no longer interested then?" Sighed the salesman. "No!" Juliet interjected, "it's not like the family were murdered." "Definitely not!" The salesman grinned. "How do you know?" Andy asked, suspiciously. "No blood, no bodies. Nothing. They just up and left. The locals like to spread silly ghost stories and won't buy the place-" "Which is why it's so cheap?" Andy interrupted. "Yes." The salesman nodded, "but it's all just lies." "I don't know..." Andy grumbled. "Excuse us!" Juliet apologised, before pulling her husband into a separate room, "we can't afford to keep looking!" She snapped, "we've searched for eleven months now and I'm sick of that apartment in LA and that fucking landlord, ain't you?!" "Yeah bu-" "No buts!" She barked, "so what if the family vanished? People leave without saying a word all the time. Maybe they just... I don't know, won the lottery and fucked off or something. Anything could have happened, that doesn't mean the house is haunted or anything stupid like that!" "All right..." Andy sighed, "it is a good deal." "Yes, it is a good deal!" Juliet cried, "I think we should get it!" "Ok, you're right." He nodded, "we ain't getting anywhere cheaper." Andy shrugged, "I guess this is the spot." "Thanks Andy!" She kissed her lover, "come on, let's tell him the good news!" The couple moved into the house three months later, it was the end of Winter by the time they hit their new home. It was lovely at first, but there was a small scent of something horrid in the basement. At first they thought it was simply mould, but the smell got worse. It became something like rot. "It's just an old house." Andy argued with his wife one night. "No, no, it ain't just mould, something's died down there!" "What? Like a rat?" "Yeah!" "Well... It will decompose eventually, right?" "Oh, that's just gross!" She snorted, "it's been getting worse for weeks now and it's driving me mad! Mad I tell you! I can't sleep at night!" "It's all the way downstairs in the basement!" He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I can smell it in the bedroom and the kitchen, it's making me feel ill. Like my stomach is always in a knot and I can't even write anymore!" "Not like that was ever really profitable!" Andy grumbled. "I don't care about the money!" She roared, "just get a shovel down there and dig around already?! There must be a dead rat hiding under all that garbage we keep in there." "What, you mean my vintage comics, vinyls and books?!" "Yes, it's all garbage, Andy! And it must be stinking up the joint, real bad. Real fucking bad." "It's not my collectibles!" He barked. "You better go down there and sort it out, or I'm burning all those things with or without your say so!" "All right, fine!" Andy stormed downstairs into the basement. It was dark and musty in there, the stench was so horrendous he almost puked! It didn't stink of mould or rot anymore, it was like sewage water full of dead fish. It stank like hell itself. Andy got mad and began searching frantically for the origin of the terrible, terrible smell. Eventually he noticed the ground in the far right corner of the basement was hollow beneath the wooden floor boards. His feet echoed louder on that spot and the wood actually bent slightly under his weight. So Andy began prying the floorboards open, and what he found underneath was something he'd never, ever forget. Never in a million years. A rotting human skull. Andy jumped back in fright and vomited all over himself. "You ok, honey?!" Juliet's voice called from above him. "C- c- call the police!" He stuttered. "What?!" "CALL THE POLICE!" The police came and they searched the basement, they all wore surgical masks to combat the foul stench, the couple were told to wait outside as the cops and forensics inside began their sweep. They found three bodies buried under the basement floor, they had been rotting under there for months and months, almost a whole year before Andy and Juliet even moved in. The mother, son and daughter of the previous family were all murdered, evidence of bullet and stab wounds were all over their rotting corpses. It seemed the husband had killed his whole family, then buried them under the floorboards and just left, never to be seen or heard from ever again. Andy and Juliet Springfield stayed in the house, after the corpses were unearthed and given proper burials in a nearby local cemetery. Despite the removal of their bodies, the couple still had nightmares about the dead family. Even in the day, they started hallucinating the family still in the house, like ghosts. Of course, these visions were just their own imaginations playing tricks on them. The mind can be a strange and cruel organ, making you think and see things that aren't even there. They would claim the house was haunted and left a month later in Spring. Then the house hunt began yet again, they weren't going to take any chances this time.
By Joseph Roy Wright10 months ago in Horror
The Last Day
Screams filled the air as the flames of a thousand suns licked at the misguided and disobedient souls. Searing heat rose from the core of the earth and ripped the flesh of the evils and wrong-doers from their bones, a degree of intensity unbeknown to humankind before the time of their judgement. The smell of burning ash combined with the sight of utter despair was probably the most satisfying moment of his career. This was the moment he had been waiting for – his moment of glory. Feeling the hatred and anger rise inside his body and allowing it to consume him, he confidently prowled towards the soul of the nearest person – a young man, who looked to be in his late teens, and was wailing like a banshee. Fear rose in the adolescent's eyes as the figure he had come to know as the creator of all evil harshly gripped his neck, lifted him and threw him against the shards of lava-covered rock. The teen released a horrified scream, and a satisfied smile crept across Lucifer's face as he savoured the moment. He did everything in his capacity to not think about it. His time was almost here and he intended to have as much fun as possible before eternal suffering overcame him. He had spent thousands of years harvesting souls just for these short few moments of domination. As the teen boy he had thrown against the burning pillar curled into a position of surrender and defeat, he heard the anguished wail of an elder woman. He knew that this was one of his favourites – they professed the name of the Messiah, but they lived for the pleasures of the world. He licked his lips and felt a shiver through his hell-bound spine as he turned on his heel and followed the sound he craved. She was within his sight, just a few paces away. This one is going to know pain and sorrow that the others will never see, he thought to himself. As he took the final few steps and stretched out his arm towards her cowering body, the overwhelming sound of a trumpet pierced his skull and demanded the attention of every ear. He stopped in his tracks, a sudden sense of impending doom overcoming him as he realised time had run out. The ground began to quake and the flames diminished to the tiniest flickers of ember, as the brightest light ever witnessed possessed every rank of Hell. All the dead within its walls were raised, and he watched as he anticipated the fate he was about to meet. He felt his wrists clamp behind his back, bound by chains, forcing him to impatiently await his final and everlasting judgement. One by one, each and every human soul was shown their earthly deeds and judged accordingly. A flicker of joy briefly buzzed through him as he watched an endless sea of the unsaved fall into the Lake of Fire, burning for their lack of faith, the faith that he had stolen from them. When the screaming stopped and silence drowned the walls of Hades, the light within the walls shifted to him and he froze like a deer in headlights. This was it. The end of his fun. He felt his feet lift from the ground and every muscle in his body tensed. He came face-to-face with his godly adversary, and without a word, he was hurled into the fiery pit, following the souls whose destruction he had celebrated. Every fibre of his being seized as he hit the eternal flames, his body no longer remembering a state of neutrality or an ounce of joy – then he realised. They weren’t the same. The humans were truly perishing. Their bodies withered away and their souls followed. One after another, the screams ceased and the suffering ended. They were being annihilated… but he wasn’t. He looked down at his own skin, battered and scorched but not destroyed. An overwhelming sense of fear and panic washed over him as he realised… he was the only one meant for this eternal damnation. As he watched his previously tortured souls achieve a state of unconscious and everlasting peace, he looked down at his own body in horror, begging it to melt and wither away. This was the last day, and yet it was only the beginning.
By Natasha Winter10 months ago in Horror
5 Terrifying Ghost Sightings Caught on Camera
I love a good ghost story, and let’s be real, a big part of the fun is the thrill of the unexplained. There’s something undeniable about that little rush of adrenaline you get when you hear about something truly strange. I remember when I was a kid, hearing about ghosts and haunted places always captured my imagination. The idea that something unseen could be just around the corner was captivating. Like many of you, I grew up watching shows dedicated to the paranormal and unexplained mysteries. These shows always held a special place for me. Anyway, speaking of ghosts and hauntings, here are some of the most terrifying ghost sightings ever to be caught on camera.
By Areeba Umair10 months ago in Horror
The Last Night in Cabin 12
Rain fell in sheets against the windows of Cabin 12 as the wind howled like an injured animal. Alex dropped his bags near the door, soaked, irritated, and exhausted. The cabin had been his uncle’s—remote, quiet, and cheap to use whenever he needed time away from the city. But he had forgotten just how isolated it really was.
By The Academy Awards10 months ago in Horror
