Reddit Collection (Fresh-Short #9) by DeYtH Banger (e book reader pdf .txt) 📖

when you were young, your little eyes could see me then. You would scream, and point at me, trying to hide behind the bars of your crib. You would continue to scream as your mother lifted you. It was only when she flipped the switch, and brought light into your pathetic world that I would leave. But it was no matter, for she would leave, she always left. And I would come back. You learnt quickly, bawling wasn’t going to drive me out. You decided to ignore me, to pretend I wasn’t there. Even as my greasy hair hung down over your face, and my breath rattled in your ear, still you ignored me. You became very good at it.

 

I tried, of course, to make myself noticed. Small things at first; a misplaced shoe, toys rolling across the floor, an open window. But this was too easy for you to ignore, too simple for you to explain. Do you remember Fluff? That putrid creature you adored so much? The one that mommy said ran away? I assure you it was in no fit state to run when I was finished with it. Do you remember little Stacey? That precious child who shared her candy with you? You always paid attention to her, you never ignored her. I hated her, pity about the accident. How unfortunate for an innocent child to fall victim to a rabid dog. How I laughed when I heard your mother say that. A rabid dog! She had no face left, you know? I got carried away, the taste of blood, the shrill screams in my ear, it overwhelmed me. But still you ignored me.

 

You became more withdrawn after that, spending hours on your computer, shut up in your room. It was great at first, we were closer than ever. You stayed up late, and I watched over your shoulder as you trawled the internet, researching how best to end your wretched life. You tried once too, but the rope snapped, do you remember? Well I just couldn’t let you off that easy. I couldn’t let you skip out on me. I will decide when you go; your life is mine to take only when I decide.

 

So little has changed since then. Sure, you got a job, you moved out, but I followed. You still sit in front of that screen every night, whittling away your time, numbing your senses, so you can drift off without suffering through those moments in between consciousness and sleep. Those moments where you catch a glimpse of me shuffling across the room, where you see the glint of my eyes and sense the chill in the room. How I savour those moments. You have forgotten me, yet you know I am here. You turn on the lights, in your bravest of moments, searching for me. But when you dissipate the dark, I too go with it, for I am the dark. I am the dark of your soul.

I will never leave, at least not alone. Oh some night you will see me, in all my horrific majesty, but I will be the last thing you see.

Who Was Phone

 by Anonymous

 

 

oK so basicaly its like this. youare at a friends house for like the night or watever and then you guys are making out on the couch (yeah!) and then like.. her dad calls on the phone and says “no i she likes it more if you use the other hand… yeah” and your alllike “oh dude your dad is trying to give me advice on how to diddle you” and then she’s like… “i don’t have a dad..” or whatever… but what!? WHO WAS PHONE?

 

also:

So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is “wut r u doing wit my daughter?” U tell ur girl n she say “my dad is ded”. THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

Stalked

 

Dear Reader,

 

I’d like to start off by saying that I don’t have a clue why I’m writing this letter. Maybe I want this thing to be known to the world, or something. The events described in this letter happened about a month and a half ago, in Springdale, Kentucky, although I started writing this about two weeks ago. I just haven’t really had the guts to finish until what happened at the gas station.

 

The story starts in late September, when my family went to go visit our relatives, who invited us up to celebrate one of them getting like 2,000 bucks in some scratch-off lottery thing. They live in this really hillbilly part of Springdale that people from Charleston, Shepherdstown and Duncanville (basically the least redneck parts of KY) like to call “Hicksville”. We lived in Duncanville.

 

 

It is way down in a valley, and exactly like how everyone pictures it when they hear about it – nothing but crappy shacks and rusty-ass rebuilt trailers.

 

The relatives we were visiting are absolutely weird. They all acted as if there was some sort of secret that they always had to keep hidden. Which they did, and that would be discovered later. So anyway, we’re up here in this godforsaken trailer, and it sucks. There’s like eight relatives, plus me, my dad, my mom, and my sister. About two hours in, my mom takes my cell phone so that I can “focus on the family time together” (which is crap, all we did the whole time was eat TV dinners and be forced to watch Nascar and shit). After like 6 hours of that, about ten minutes before we’re supposed to leave, it starts raining. We know how treacherous the roads can get down in the valley, so we decide to wait for the rain to die down.

 

Two hours later, it’s fucking dark as hell, ten o’clock, and there’s a flood warning for the area. I have my phone back by this time (no service, of course); I’m playing Tetris and Texas Hold’ Em and stuff. When suddenly I hear my dad start losing his mind in the next room. I walk over, and it turns out that they let slip that they’d buried their kid, Thomas, outside, and apparently were afraid the rain would wash up his body or some other crap. The kid was like six, he was attacked by a dog, and they never told the cops. Just fucking buried him like he was a family pet. My dad’s flipping out and rightfully so, because, you know, we live in the 21st century and all. So our relatives all say they’ll sort it all out in the morning. My parents tell me and my sister to stay in the same room as them during the night, and we do. None of us really suspected that they’d killed Thomas or anything, since they’re really peaceful. They didn’t even own any guns except for this one old rusty double-barrel shotgun they had on a mantle. Nevertheless, we were creeped the hell out, and intended to tell the cops in the morning once we got to town.

 

So, it was like 3 in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. Power had gone out for the fifth time or so, and I’m not able to charge my dead phone. Worst part is, I could see Thomas’s little grave right outside the window. Little cross on it and everything, and I assumed the kid couldn’t have been buried deep at all since they were so worried about him just washing up out of the grave. So I was just fixated on it. I kept being drawn to look out the window. And then I saw the fucking worst thing in my life.

Something was creeping through the trees toward the house. I stared at it for a while, but couldn’t get a good look at it since it was raining and the brush was so thick. For a few minutes I assumed it was two really pale horses, kind of ambling through the woods side-by-side. But then it walked into the moonlight, and I saw that it was all one thing, like some kind of human torso, but wider. It finally stepped into full view, and I saw it had something like six legs, kind of somewhere between a beetle’s legs and a horse’s legs. Two arms, right where someone would normally have them, but they were about a half a foot longer than any normal man’s arms. It had a bald head, but the face looked like some sort of fucking bizarre blank kind of mask, this clenched-up, furrowed forehead and a nose that looked sort of like a raven’s beak. It didn’t have eyes, either…just the sockets where eyes would go. It looked like it had a human mouth, just a very large one. What still strikes me to this day is that it seemed to have a stinger on its back. Right between where a normal person would have shoulder blades. The thing moved sort of gracefully, and made these soft thump-thumping noises when it moved. It must’ve been like seven, or eight feet tall, but sounded like it weighed maybe only 100 pounds at most.

 

It starts walking towards Thomas’s grave, and then I finally snap out of whatever trance I was in, and scream. My mom is the first to wake up, and I tell her to look out the window. She rushes over, and doesn’t really seem to understand what she’s looking at. After a minute, though, the thing bends down and starts pawing at the grave with its clawed hands. My dad and Jasper, my uncle, rush in, and Jasper fucking loses his shit. Screams like a little girl, runs back out of the room, yelling for his father screaming “It’s outside, it came and it’s outside!”

 

I look back and see the thing is digging furiously at the ground, kicking up huge mounds of dirt. I hear the sound of feet running around the house. I think they were looking for the shotgun. The thing reaches into the hole and grabs up what I assume was Thomas’s body by the leg in one hand. The thing kind of gallops back into the woods, snapping all these branches and shit, and then that’s when we all hear it:

 

A kid crying. The sound of a child sobbing and crying, from the direction that the thing took off in. So we left as soon as the rain let up, at like 5 am. I don’t even think we told anyone at the house,