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

Haunted Town- Journal Entry 4.5- That Scared Me

(Disclaimer: this is a Little Hope Fan fiction, this is all for fun! All rights reserved. Original credit goes to Dark Pictures Anthology. The story is a bit different but has similarities just to mix things up. You can make choices that affect the story.)

“Andrew!” Everyone yelled in unison as I yelped when I dropped the phone.

“Are you okay?” Daniel and Taylor quickly came up to me, then Angela and John.

“What happened? Did you get ahold of anyone?” John asked.

“You look pale.” Angela said, acting concerned.

“I got a hold of someone. A male voice answered the phone, but it wasn’t quite clear. I was able to tell us where we were and what happened, where we were, it was just hard to make out everything he said. Then he cut out and another voice joined the line.”

“Another voice? What do you mean another voice?” Angela was pressing for more answers.

“It sounded like mine, but deeper, and it had an accent to it. It thought I was the Devil’s work and that it wouldn’t ‘succumb’ to it.” I said using my fingers as quotation marks.

“I wouldn’t doubt that you heard something strange like that young man.” The older man chimed in, looking at everyone from the barstools. “Little Hope itself is cursed. Now I suggest you get out of here, before things get worse.”

“Why are you still here then? Why is it that you can’t hear or see those things, but you know of them?” I was scared, but I was so desperate for answers. I needed to know what was going on with this town!

“Well, there’s nothing left for me to fight for. I stick to my roots, they can’t hurt me like how they can hurt you.” He got up from the barstool, put his beaten up green coat on, and started to head towards the door. We followed him out into the street to where he parked his bike. We couldn’t just let him leave so soon with this conundrum on our hands. It weighs heavy on our minds like how the fog does in the streets.

“It really was nice meeting all of you kind folks, but this town has taken the lives of too many people. There’s not too many people left here in Little Hope. Now I suggest you pull your bootstraps up and get the hell out of here.”

“But the fog, it won’t let us leave!” Taylor yelled at the man who got onto his old blue bike.

“There is a trail that is just up the road from here. It will take you up the River through an old hiking trail. You’re going to pass by a bridge that is by the old Little Hope Middle School and an old Bridge. Do not cross it! Stay on the road. You will eventually find the diner up the road. They have a working phone. I wish you the best of luck.” He peddled off into the fog.

“There’s something that seems off about him.” Daniel said.

“What does he mean about our roots not being easy for us?” Taylor said as she shrugged in confusion.

“We can’t stay here anymore. I say we head towards the bus!” Taylor said.

“You’re joking right? Splitting up is not something we should do at all. Haven’t you guys watched horror movies?” John said assertively.

“Yeah, they’re dumb and they don’t make sense which is why I want to go back. Besides, there’s stuff back there that I want to get that might be useful.”

“Like what? I want to know what thing of yours you want to get is so important.” Angela said in a skeptical tone.

“When are you going to get off my back? There’s nothing wrong with going back and getting-“

“Your other phone? Makeup? A charger? Those things don’t matter to us right now! What does matter is staying close to town so when help arrives we can be here to get it.” Angela was really starting to push Taylor’s buttons.

“I was going to say possibly another flashlight, a first aid kit, and yes maybe my personal belongings!” Taylor yelled.

“Lay off Taylor. It’s been a rough night for everyone.” Daniel blurted out.

“Ah I see you have your boyfriend sticking up for you too?” Angela said with a mischievous smile.

“Will you stay out of our business!?” Taylor exclaimed. “God.” She whispered to herself as she put her hand to her face.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough night. I just can’t wait to get out of here.” Angela sighed.

“It’s our teacher’s fault for getting us into this mess!” Taylor pointed at John.

“I didn’t know we were going to get into this crash in the first place. You can’t just blame it all on me.” John said in disbelief.

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for this stupid field trip.”

“If anyone thinks they can do a better job, step right up!”

Intervene Calmly

Intervene Aggressively

To be continued…

Categories
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?” The old man 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 the old man 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.

To be continued…

(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.” The old man 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?” The old man 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 the old man.

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.” The old man 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.

To be continued…

(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.)

Categories
Dreams

Morbid Lady

She haunts my dreams.

Ever since I was little, a black widow incessantly terrorizes me. She wraps me in her wisps of silk and chains me to the walls of her hidden chambers until I wake up alone shaking in fear. The teeth make my hair stand on end. Lifeless eyes, those eyes terrify me.

She preys upon my vulnerability. She thrives on feeding my mind with tarnished thoughts and nightmares. She floods my being with the black waters of death every time I dream of her. If it’s not the water, it’s fire or tar. It’s pure torture. It feels too real to be just a dream. She stands there and laughs. Laughs with multiple voices coming out of her throat. How can she laugh like that?

When I wake up, it feels like I have been tortured for years. I tell myself I have to avoid that woman at all costs as much as possible.

Because of this, my guard is never let down. I don’t sleep, I don’t rest. I don’t leave my home. I work from home and go to college online now. I don’t visit people I know or love anymore, I just can’t. I don’t go outside or run errands unless I absolutely have to. There is no other way than to be on my guard and to protect myself in the only way I know how.

Every time I fall asleep, I see her. Sometimes I can’t defeat the urge to sleep.

She sips on my soul. She has for over 18 years now. My life force continues to fade away as my nightmares go on like this. No one believes me. I’ve tried to tell people, but I have been told it’s all in my brain or that I’m crazy. I’m not crazy dammit! Doctors either give me medications or send me to therapists. It’s a vicious, endless, nonstop cycle. It’s useless.

No one is safe from her, not even you dear. I’m telling you this now before it is too late.

She is the Devil of blackness. She’s a parasite from another dimension! I don’t know how or why she’s here, but she chose me for whatever reason.

There is no time left. She will end you, just like how she’s going to end me.

Categories
Positivty and Funnies Randomness Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary

Positivity and Funnies: Zombies!!!!

With how everything has been over the past few months, why not share a few laughs with a few zombie memes? It’s silly, horror themed for the horror fam, and some of them are just so darn cute! Let’s take a moment from the stressful news and brighten up your day with something silly (possibly bringing things that were once dead in the meme world… double the undead process!!)

Good god the myth of hungry zombie kitties are true! Feed them on time or else! 😱
Do you ever get that spine tingling (or in this case ‘munching’ feeling) that something is watching you?
Look on the bright side, at least we will all be eaten equally in the zombie apocalypse. There will be no need for protests on food chain discrimination here!
I thought that death was supposed to look scary…
Here’s an interesting game: you can only pick three things in your home that you can use during the zombie apocalypse. Will you start off as the people on top, or as the people on the bottom? The choice is yours!
The undead MUST have a sense of fashion! Do you still take selfies?

Oh no honey this has nothing to do with bath salts… the first step to recovery is acceptance and you must accept that you are a zombie. 😂

Who keeps calm anymore????? I don’t!!!

I hope you enjoyed this short bit of funnies! Stay safe and have a wonderful evening.

Categories
Randomness Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary Writing and Poetry

Burn Them Before They Rise

I can’t emphasize the seriousness of this post. No one believes a word that I have to say, but dammit I hope that whoever is reading this right now will. I don’t have much time left to explain.

Has anyone been watching or reading the news??? Well I have news for you: it’s nothing like how everyone has been saying it is. It’s worse. Far, far worse, but in a different way. You see, this is no ‘normal’ by the book pandemic. What pandemic is normal? It’s not, but what I mean is, it’s not a typical disease where people get sick and die…

This is the part where people start to think I’m crazy or that I have serious mental health issues… I don’t. They don’t stay dead! They won’t fucking stay dead.

I used to be a nurse technician in a hospital which was in a very small town, about a couple hours or so away from Los Angeles, California. I can’t disclose any information for the sake of confidentiality and time. When Flu season started, it really wasn’t all that serious at first. But then the cases started to increase, by handfuls, then it turned into dozens. Our hospital only can handle so much so local counties had to volunteer to help. The thing is, when we ran our normal tests like for blood, urine, swab, etc, it didn’t come up as the flu. Not even the strep, common cold, meningitis, sinus infection, or any typical infections during this time of year. It wasn’t the flu anymore… it was something else. People were dying left and right. Yes, some did recover, but not enough of them to say that any true progress was made. It’s more of a 90% fatality rate. If caught early, 75%. Although, that’s rare, more along the lines of 10-15% rare. Most medications, pain relievers, anti inflammatory medications, fever reducers, antibiotics, antivirals, you name it, they really don’t work. Nothing… works…

When they die, each and every one of them emit this really putrid smell of death, rotten flesh, and decay. You can smell it within an hour of them dying. It makes no sense… necrosis kicks in so quickly, too quickly. If they aren’t bagged up and buried ASAP, they will attack with homicidal aggression. They have inhuman strength! It’s not just that… they leak and blood and liquid blackness from the pores of their skins. They grow and twist and contort and it’s just my god…

The first person that they attacked was my mom who was a doctor working with me at the time. Limbs were torn, hair was pulled, eyes gone, head smashed, everything that was my mom was turned into a pile of muscle and bone. I tried to fight the thing by throwing a vase at its head, but it didn’t work. I quit over the phone the next day. I have overheard from other coworkers that they were able to take down that one patient, but that wasn’t the first incident in that hospital. That body was dead for an hour and a half tops. I watched the news for a few days and they showed a map of the globe of the affected areas. I was in absolute disbelief.

My Dad passed away many years ago and the only one I have is my fiancé is on a business trip in another state. The town is completely shut down because of what has happened to the hospital, but I have decided that there is nothing left here for me and it is not safe. Shit! The banging on my doors and windows has been absolutely nonstop!

The hospitals are almost completely overrun and those things are everywhere. There’s no time to hold a funeral or wake for someone unless if they have died from something other than this damned disease, which is rare these days. Burn them before they rise, or else you will be their next meal. Oh my god! Theykbryjkga;?7

(All content in this story is fictional. Artwork rights of image belong to original owner.)

Categories
Randomness Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary

Please, Don’t Try This Profession

Please don’t try this…. ever.

You won’t come back in one piece, or ever.

How I know is because I am a witness.

I have witnessed ‘The Quiet Ritual’ by the CLA (Celebration of Life) done multiple times.

It is for people who are either terminally ill or for those no longer wish to be on this earth.

We celebrate life one more time and at the end of the celebration, the person who is ready to go, goes in their own way.

However, the one who holds the ceremony has to either be a higher authoritative figure in law or religion.

I’m a priest in a Catholic Church.

I’m a relatively young man with no life and all I have wanted to do is make people happy.

I have given so many elders a celebration on their last day of life on earth which has made them and their families happy.

I know this may sound great and all, but here’s the catch to this private service: I also did mention it is for those who no longer wish to be on this earth.

This could be for people who aren’t elderly or sick per say, but for people who are tapping out.

This is the only organization in the world that will allow something like this.

I was very reluctant to do this, but I signed a contract for 5 years and I couldn’t back out of it.

I was offered great pay and I couldn’t go anywhere else work wise.

After the first person I helped tapped out, that’s when I heard the voices.

They told me that every time I had to do a ritual, I had to take a small piece of myself off of my body.

I was overwhelmed with dreams, visions, shadows, and the b-b-bugs… the fucking bugs.

They crawled over me during my sleep.

Thousands of flies and maggots.

Each day, each ritual, each death, each patch of skin…

Patch of skin… patch of skin… patch of skin…

(Image art credit to original owner)

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

Deadly Kiss- She Rises Again

I kept my eyes closed as the ominous man pulled me through what felt like being warped through swirling tunnels of time, but there was no time. Not that I could feel.

I was petrified, yet secure at the same time. The man held me close to his chest as we swiftly warped through the swirling tunnels. I held on tight for I was afraid that I was going to fall into some black abyss if I let go.

I felt this overbearing need to just cry. I held back tears what felt like lifetimes ago… before I died. 

Suddenly the swirling tunnels stopped and we landed onto the same exact spot I was before, but minus my body and the blade that ended my life. I will never forget the face of my stone-cold killer.

Here we are dear. We are right where we need to be.

His mouth never moved when he spoke, but his eyes and face would make movements equivalent to the tone of the words he expressed. He did not blink at all, for he didn’t have eye lids. 

Are you alright? 

He put his ice cold hand on my shoulder. It felt cold to the touch, yet my heart felt warmth from the gesture. I nodded softly. I tried to take a step forward to look at the spot I was murdered and I fell to my knees. My body fell like an old rag doll! I had absolutely no control of my body’s movements at all. I was disconnected from myself, from everyone, everything, the world… my world. Gone. Forever. Taken by the hands of a killer who I thought was the love of my life. It was one big lie; a lie that I so desperately wanted to be true.

My emotions flooded over me like the overbearing current of a river breaking way through a fragile, worn down dam. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. My chest and throat tightened up. I began to sob; it wasn’t just part of my body that sobbed, it was every fiber of my being that sobbed. I was robbed of my body and of my life. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it. 

The ominous man pulled me up onto my knees and sat down with me on the blood soaked concrete. 

Don’t cry dear. It’s going to be okay. Your pain is over and the healing will finally begin. Justice will soon be in your hands.

“How? How is everything going to be okay? I’m dead and it’s all over! How can a dead person get justice? It’s impossible!” 

I cried even harder. I realized that I would never be able to see any of my family or friends again. I felt robbed, hopeless, helpless, and stuck… stuck in this darkness. Instead of arguing back or trying to use more words to comfort or assure me, he just sat there with me. He held me closer to his icy cold body. 

After a few moments, I started to slow down. A few minutes after, I completely stopped crying. When I was still alive, this would never have happened. I used to cry until I fell asleep on my couch or on my bed at home. My fiance, or should I say, stone-cold killer, didn’t have any patience. He always focused on a way to fix whatever made me upset or for me to ‘get over it’. I hated it. I didn’t want to share anything with him because I was afraid I would immediately get judged or hurt. 

You have quite a beautiful voice. My heart breaks for you. Many moons ago I felt the same exact way that you did. 

“What happened? How did you die?” 

The Ominous man glanced down at the crimson colored cement, and then back up at me.

I was once betrayed like you. Someone who I thought I could trust stabbed me in the back, literally. It was an argument over what my once niave spirit worried about, which was money and time. So we met up at a park to talk things out like adults. The conversation wasn’t going anywhere and I thought it was best that it was time for me to go home. I stood up from the bench and turned my back only to be dragged into the trees under the hill below. I felt an excruciating pain in the middle of my spine. And then I felt it again, and again, and again through my head, neck, and lower spine. Everything faded to red and then black. I woke up what felt like moments later in pure blackness. I got up and managed to crawl up the hill with whatever strength I had left. A passerby in that park found me and called for help. By the time help came, it was too late. I was gone.

“Oh my god, that’s awful! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe someone did that to you.”

I had a wife, two children, a home, an ever changing career. It was yanked away from me just like how that filthy creature took your life. I was angry, heartbroken, confused, and I felt that I was forever stuck on this plane. Time went by and I wasted away. The one who I truly believed was the love of my life turned to another not long after I died. My children grew up and they moved on. They were very very little when I passed. I got tired of watching myself waste away. I had to seek justice out for myself, and I did just that!

“And then what happened?”

Only time will tell my dear. 

He helped me up and I felt myself gain a little bit more control of my body. I was able to stand up on my own and in fact, I felt lighter. I felt physically, emotionally, and spiritually lighter. It was like as if a weight was taken off my body. I haven’t felt anything like that in years.

Oh, and you can call me Gerald, or Brandy. Whatever works for you dear.

For once in my existence, I felt as though that whatever facing me was not going to be insurmountable. Maybe, I can stop this situation from getting any worse. Maybe I can stop my killer and show everyone the kind of person this monster really is. Maybe I can save others from getting killed too!

Maybe Brandy can help me. I need to know why he is here though. Why is he helping me? Is he a guardian angel? Is he death? Is he just an ordinary ghost or phantom? What is he? Who is he? 

To be continued…

Back to Part 1

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Categories
Positivty and Funnies Randomness Weird-Crazy-Perhaps Scary

Positivity and Funnies: Howl-O-ween funnehs

It might be only September, but does that really matter? Hell no! Halloween, aka spooky season is here! Decor, movies, candy galore? It’s never too early to get excited for Halloween, it’s also never too early nor too late for the funnies! Here we go!

“I don’t like horror movies.”

…. awkward *eye twitches*

I freaking hate it when this happens! That’s why you should never wash your mask Jason!

It’s never too early for Halloween dammit!!!

This sounds like a fun project for the whole family! (Your neighbors will love you and appreciate you for this)! 😁

This is what horror villains do for fun! 😂

Oh my gosh they are just so VERY “friendly”! Uh… Hm…

Here’s the truth about vampires and why they’re not fun to be with: they all suck!

Hey, it’s what I do! It really does work! 👍

If it makes you happy and it doesn’t hurt anyone, then why not? (Unless if you enjoy killing people like Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers… *gulp*).

The definition of Creepypasta can have emphasis and class, right?

Have a nice night everyone!

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

Those Ancient Hills (Pet Semetary Fanfic)- That dog is supposed to be dead (Part 1)

zombie-dog

I’m starting to wonder if this is something more than a doctor could fix. Again I go to the doctor, again I get the same results, with the exception of having the flu and a severe sinus infection. I’ve seen all kinds of doctors and specialists since I first started school. Call me impatient, but it seems like nothing is getting better with my mental health. I’ve seen multiple therapists, two psychiatrists, a school counselor, a neurologist, a general practitioner, a social worker, you name it! I’ve had test after test after test done and they all come out normal. Blood tests, Urine tests, stress tests, MRIs, Pet Scans, CT Scans, several assessments made by EVERY medical professional I have seen and everything comes back normal. My medications have been switched around 4 times already, and nothing works permanently. I’m starting to wonder if anyone believes me anymore. This can’t be…

I need to be completely open about something. Mental Health awareness has always been something that I have been wanting to support since I was in high school, so I want to share something personal about myself. Maybe those who are struggling might find some comfort in this.

My family and I have been through a lot of trauma in the past. We’ve lost relatives ranging from cancer, car crashes, or suicide. It always seemed to hit either my cousins or aunts and uncles. We’ve also been robbed twice while being at home and almost lost our house to a fire caused by some shotty wiring in our old laundry room. But the truth is, there is one thing that happened in my life that has scarred me for the rest of my days. I never really mentioned this before, but the truth is I had an older sister. Her name was Lydia, but we called her Lily. She died almost 10 years ago. I lost my older sister due to self harm. She was 14 and I was only 10 at the time when it happened. We were in the living room one day, watching TV and she randomly stands up, stares off into space, then heads into the kitchen. I followed her because something within me told me to. She went straight to the knife set, filled her hands with all kinds of knives, and started to cut and scratch at her skin. I remember that she screamed at the voices who told her to ‘scratch her skin off’ with the knives. I ran in there and fought to pull the knives out of her hands. She stabbed me and tried to stab my parents as we tried to stop her. She pushed all of us away and then began to skin the knives into her skull so she could rip her skin, hair, and ears off. After struggling for a few moments, my sister dropped all of the knives except for one. She looked at me and said,”This is for you, brother. I am sorry” and she proceeded to stab herself once in the gut and once in the heart. She collapsed to the floor and a large pool of blood enveloped the kitchen floor. I covered up her wounds the best I could while my mom tried to keep her with us. My dad was on the phone with 911… as soon as they arrived, it was too late.

Truth be told, Lydia was very very sick. What happened was not her fault. For years I thought that it was my fault that she died, but my parents and many others convinced me otherwise. She was diagnosed with a rare form of Schizophrenia that only a select handful of the human population has at the age of 6. It develops at a very young age and only gets worse as you get older. My parents had another baby girl a few years after my sister passed away. I could never understand why they decided to have another child after that. I felt like they just did it so they could fill that void that my older sister left behind. I was diagnosed with Bipolar II and PTSD at the age of 11. Supposedly I was ‘acting out’ in school, ‘not acting like myself’, and had been changing for the worse, according to my parents. My parents were afraid that I was developing the same illness that claimed my sister, but thankfully I was spared. I felt as though I was treated differently from everyone else, thanks to rumors being spread about my sister’s death. Regardless of what happened, Dani and Jeff have always stuck by my side.

With that being said, did I somehow empathically ‘inherit’ my sister’s illness after she died? Was I truly truly sick? Or maybe I’m really not sick and something very wrong is going on here. Maybe the Pet Sematary is a real place. Maybe that Pascow guy really does exist. Maybe Dani and Jeff did something they really shouldn’t have. Maybe the Creed family murders are true. Maybe there is such things as this cursed place that brings the dead to life beyond its main circle. God only knows, because I don’t. I decided that the first thing I was going to do after seeing the doctor was grab my laptop and head on over to the Public Library instead of the school’s library. I believe the Public Library will have more information on these legends than the school library would.

After my doctor’s visit, I open the door to find a pool of blood on the doormat. There was a trail of blood that led to the doorway of Jeff’s room. A pair of glowing red eyes stood in the room engulfed by darkness. I took a couple steps forward, weaving around the blood and saw a gruesome sight. It was Jack… but at the same time it wasn’t Jack. The dog took a few steps forward and he looked just as he did when he died, but worse… much worse. His fur was matted with mud and this awful smelling sludge water. His eyes were sunken in beyond the red. His stance was awkward and bent, almost like a V. I thought that the dog was going to attack me, but he didn’t. He just stood there and stared at me. It felt like eons had passed as we continued to stare at each other. I was stuck and I couldn’t move a single muscle in my body.

Christ almighty… thinking about this is making me feel sick… I can’t move a single muscle in my body. I have to keep this short for now. I feel as though I’m being watched. I’ll post more of what happened later on. Peace.

Intro | Previous Part ( Something Weird is Going On Here) |That Dog is Supposed to be Dead (Pt 2)

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(This is a fanfic series is based off of Stephen King’s original Pet Sematary as well as Pet Sematary 1 & 2 films.)