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Long term stories Short Stories Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary Writing and Poetry

Haunted Town- Journal Entry 4- He Had The Drink…

“Sure! I could use a drink. It’s been a hell of a night.” John didn’t hesitate to grab the shot glass of whiskey. He swallowed the drink whole and slammed down the glass.

“I don’t think that was a good idea professor. You need to keep a clear head.”

“Do you want another drink?” Vince asked.

“Nah, one is good for now. Thank you kindly for your generosity! I deeply appreciate it.” John seemed to feel a sense of relief after having the drink.

FYI I switched to texting so no one can hear me.

“So I beg to ask the question, where is your phone?” I asked in an anxious tone. I couldn’t help myself. I started to feel this heaviness in the room, like as if we were being watched by someone, but more like something.

“Your phone doesn’t work, young man?”

“I have no service.”

“Ah! I have no idea how technology works. We do have a phone, but the line is a bit shaky. These old wires don’t work like how they used to.”

“Hey, we’re going to have a look around!” Angela’s voice echoed in the entire bar.

They looked among the loose leaf papers, newspapers, flyers, and photographs. I couldn’t quite overhear their conversations, but what I did know was that I was desperate to get to that phone. John and Vince continued to talk as I walked off towards the phone. I could vaguely overhear something about a ‘freak accident’, and ‘witch trials’, but I couldn’t care less.

I got to the phone which was an old, dusty, black dial up phone which seemed to be way past its expiration date. Some of the numbers were either broken off or faded on the dial on the phone and some of the paint was starting to chip away. I thought to myself, Man this place is old! I dialed 9-1-1 and at first the phone just rang and rang… and rang… until finally I heard some static. Finally a voice!

“9-1…. wh-a… is… yo-r em-rge-…cy?” A young female voice answered the phone.

“Yes hello my name is Andrew! We were in an accident up the road. We’re here in the Black Cat Bar up in Little Hope. We plan on going into town. Please send help to Little Hope! There are five of us!”

“Is an-y… hu-t o- mi-ing? I n-d a -… inf-ma-tion.”

“No one that we know of is hurt. It’s me, Andrew Foster, my professor John, my peers Taylor, Daniel, and Angela. The only one missing is our bus driver and I believe his name is Anthony.”

“W- wi… end -lp -…oon.”

“Oh thank god. How soon?” I felt a sense of dread as the static started to grow louder and louder. It began to give me a splitting headache.

“An-ony is -ed. For-et -im.” the voice started to grow almost demonic. I couldn’t understand it. Then a loud crashing sound was made next to me. A glass fell from a shelf and scared the shit out of me. Soon another voice hopped on the line.

“What is this?” The voice sounded like a deeper male’s voice, similar to mine, and yet still different. It sounded like it was from a different time or place, perhaps both.

“Who are you?”

“This is the Devil’s work here. I will not succumb to a witch’s spell. Your twisted words will fall on deaf ears.”

“I don’t understand.” A loud roar filled my ears before the line went dead. It caused me to drop the phone. It scared me to death. I didn’t know what to think.

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(Disclaimer: this is just a fan fiction from Little Hope! All rights reserved. Original credit goes to Dark Pictures Anthology. This story has differences compared to the original one. However, you can still make choices that can affect your outcome.)

Categories
Long term stories Short Stories Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary Writing and Poetry

Haunted Town- Journal Entry 4- No Drink

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on this one. I gotta keep a clear head.” John sighed in relief knowing that he made the best choice that he could.

“Suit yourself. Like I said before, drinking is all I have left.” Vince paused and took a drink. “After the tragic history this town has been through.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What is it that you’re talking to? A cell phone?” Vince asked.

“I’m keeping track of everything on my phone just in case if anything happens to us or if we ever get in touch with someone. I have no service so I can’t call 911. This is all the phone is good for.”

“Ah I see, like a diary.”

“We’re going to have a look around!” Angela exclaimed to John and I.

“See what you can dig up.” Said Vince.

I could hear Angela, Daniel, and Taylor rustling through newspapers, loose leaf papers, old flyers, and pictures laying around the bar. I could overhear them talking about how interesting everything looked as they looked through the historical monument that is this old bar.

“Do you have a phone?” John asked calmly. I knew inside he was just as anxious to get out of here as everyone else.

“We have one, but the line isn’t very reliable. These wires are so old they just don’t work like how they used to.” Vince poured another drink.

“It’s worth a shot.” I said.

I walked off to try out the phone. John and the old man continued to talk as Taylor, Angela, and Daniel looked around. I found the phone. It was so old, like decades old, black and covered in dust. It was one of those phones with a top handle and buttons that spin. A couple of the numbers were almost faded away or missing, but I knew what was what. It didn’t matter to me, what mattered was going home safe and sound.

“Here goes nothing.” I spun the numbers to 9-1-1. I could hear a couple clicks and then a ring as I put the phone handle to my ear. It rung three more times before I heard a very raspy, static filled voice.

“9-1… wh-a … is yo-r emerge-y?” A mature male voice said over the phone.

“Yes! Hello, this is an emergency! We had a bus crash down the road and there are five people are here at Black Cat Bar in Little Hope.”

“I-… c..an se… ..lp but I- ne-… -ore info…-tion.”

“My name is Andrew, Andrew Foster. The others are Taylor, John, Angela, and Daniel. Our bus driver, I think his name is Anthony, is missing.”

“I-… an…. hu….rt?”

“No I don’t think so, it’s just our bus driver is missing. Please come to Little Hope. Please come to town! We need help!”

“A…. som…. wi….” the static got louder and I swear I could hear other garbled noises on the other end.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Hello???” Then the static got quiet and another voice chimed in.

“Who is this that beckons for my time?” It sounded like someone from another time or another place. Nowhere I can necessarily pinpoint.

“What? Who are you?”

“This is the work of the Devil. I will not give into its filthy tricks.” It was a deeper voice, yet had a ring similar to mine. “I withhold my name from you heathen.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are cursed!” A massive roar of static and some unknown creature came through the phone. It was ear shattering! The noise scared me so much that I dropped the phone to the floor.

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(Disclaimer: this is just a fan fiction! All rights belong to Dark Pictures Anthology. This is all for fun. A lot of the story is different from the game to add some originality, yet some aspects of the game are still there. You can make some decisions which will affect the outcome of the story.)