Okay, so the events I’m about to share with you literally happened like last night and I’m still fucking shaking. I’m not here to tell a story. I’m here to get insight from all you guys that are in to fucked up stuff like this. I don’t wanna hear “dude your writing is terrible” because I just don’t fucking care at this point. I just want someone to say it’ll all be alright. I want HELP. Fair warning: I say fuck a lot.
Now that we’ve cleared that up here’s a little background on me. I’m your average hard working blue collar all American guy. I work nights in Texas but I live in Louisiana and every evening I make an hour long drive to get to my job and on this little drive I’ll stop to get a red bull and a pack of camel blue shorts to help me get through the night. Always stop at the same gas station, always pay the same amount, $13.35. Hell, the old lady behind the cash register knows my name at this point. The one thing I never stop for though is to use the bathroom. this time I did.
Everything was normal I walked in nodded hello to Pam (old cash register lady) and walk to the back cooler to grab my red bull. It was at this point that the Taco Bell that I had for dinner decided to make its appearance and began to bang it’s war drums against my stomach. Fuck you Taco Bell. I instantly headed towards the bathroom gripping my stomach in agony. I Needed to purge myself of this unholy entity quickly before it destroyed my favorite pair of work jeans. With Lightning quick speed I locked myself in the first stall I could reach and pulled my pants down and sat on the toilet. With a sigh of relief I began to release my bowels. Holy mother of god it felt amazing. As I sat there I began scrolling through reddit no sleep on my phone, which has become a daily ritual for me. About a minute went by and I heard the bathroom door open and someone shuffle in.
Now this would be completely normal and itself had the unidentified person not walk directly to the stall I was in and just stand there. I waited for a knock so I could give the awkward “Occupado” that I usually do when this happens. It was then that I noticed the person’s feet. I could tell that it was a woman by the size and shape, and that they were wearing women’s sandals. Little green ones with pink flowers painted on the thongs. but their feet were dirty as fuck. Like haven’t showered in a month dirty. I just figured some drunk girl accidentally stumbled into the men’s room.
“Uhhhh hello?” I said in the most casual Way one can while sitting on a toilet. After a second I started hearing whispering behind the door like she was talking to herself. I just couldn’t make out what she was saying. Okay so now it was a little weird but I just wrote it off as the bitch was just some homeless crazy person. “Someone’s in here.” I said, slightly annoyed at whoever this was that was bothering me while I was trying to take care of business. Then I heard two knocks. Very slow and very deliberate. “Yeah. Hey. Occupied.” Two more knocks. This was starting to piss me off. “Look lady-” I was cut short by a loud banging that shook the whole stall. Bang bang bang. It’s like she was hitting the door with a fucking sledge hammer. Over and over again. Bang bang bang. And she’s still just whispering away, having her own little conversation as she battering rams the stall door repeatedly.
At this point I was a mix of really fucking pissed and pretty fucking freaked out. “What the fuck is your problem!?” I yelled. Kicking the door back. The banging continued but now it was accompanied by a wet smacking sound. And then she spoke. “Let us in.” Her voice sounded almost childlike which just added to the creepy factor. Bang bang bang. “Let us in. Let us in.” The banging and wet smacking sound got so loud I had to cover my ears. “LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU CRAZY BITCH!!!” And then almost instantly she stopped.
I watched her feet as she backed away from the door and right into the bathroom wall. She slid down the wall until she sat facing my stall. I waited for five minutes for something else to happen but when nothing did I stood up, pulled up my pants, and reached hesitantly for the lock. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding in my ears. I didn’t really think about what I would do once I opened the door but if I didn’t get out of there I’d never make it to work on time and I doubted the old “Some crazy woman wouldn’t let me shit in peace” excuse would get me much sympathy from the boss man.
So I went for it. Very slowly I opened it. I let it swing all the way open to get a good look at this chick. I want to remember what she looks like before I book it out of there. And there she is. Sitting there staring up at me and smiling this big fucked up horror film smile. She’s got blood just dripping down her face from her forehead. I pull the stall door around and see blood splatter. This crazy fuck was bashing her crazy fuck head into the fucking door until she fucking bled. I was surprised she was even still conscious. “What the hell is wrong with you lady?” Was the most intelligent question I could muster. She just stared. She must’ve been on drugs or something.
I felt bad for her. I inched my way to the sink to grab paper towels to help her stop the bleeding of her nose and forehead. Her head never turned but her eyes followed me the whole time and that creepy fucking smile never left her lips. I grabbed the towels and squatted down so I was eye level with her. My face and hers were about two feet apart as I dabbed at her forehead with a paper towel. She was actually pretty cute if you could get over the bloody, creepy smiling and wide eyed stare. Maybe 22 years old, black hair, and petite. But then I noticed her eyes. Like REALLY noticed them. She was staring right at me but it’s like she wasn’t even there. Like she was empty. It made me shiver a bit.
I continued trying to clean her up and finally she spoke again with the same little kid voice. “Why didn’t you let us in?” At this point she couldn’t really startle me anymore so I non-chalantely said “Well I wasn’t expecting company so I didn’t have time to clean the place up.” In the most sarcastic way I could. Nothing. Not even a giggle. She just kept up the creepy possessed act.
I was just about done helping her and going to stand when she said “Will you let us in now?” And before I could reply I see movement to my left and I jump up just in time as a box cutter blade slashes through the air and instead of hitting my throat makes contact with my wrist. I start spurting blood instantly. I’m standing there holding my wrist and gritting my teeth and she’s still just sitting there. Only now she’s holding up this box cutter, smiling at me like she did me a favor.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” I screamed, as I tried to stop the bleeding. But I instantaneously forgot about any damage I’d taken after what happened next. This girl. This fucking girl starts running the box cutter down her face. I don’t mean just skimming over it either. I mean she was digging it as far into her fucking skin as it would go then dragging it down her face. Over and over again and she was just giggling about it. The cuts kept coming, the blood kept flowing. And the sound…oh God the sound it made. I gag just thinking about it. Like a knife through a very raw steak.
I just stood there, watching in horror as she mutilated her face with the blade. I couldn’t do anything. I felt sick. She just stared at me with those blank eyes and giggled some more. Fuck. There was so much blood and more came as she sliced through her eyelids and a white/red liquid oozed from the socket. She cut through her lips until they hung by nothing but a strand of meat and when the lips were gone she started on her gums and tongue. Just slicing and slicing. Oh God the sound…I couldn’t watch anymore.
I turned away and began slowly making my way to the door. I had to get out of there. “Wait.” I heard her mutter behind me. “Please God help me PLEASE!!” There was pain in her voice. So much pain. And it was HER voice. Not the childish tone she had before. I looked to her. She was on her hands and knees vomiting uncontrollably. In between retches she looked at me with begging eyes. HER eyes. I started to cry and sob like a fucking baby. I fell to my knees.
“HOW!?” I cried. “Tell me how! I’ll do anything just tell me how!” I held my face and cried into my bloody hands. This was so fucked up. This was so fucked up. “Tell me how…” I whispered. Sniffling. “Let us in.” That childish voice…I looked up and she stood over me.
Her face like bloody shredded meat. One blank eye looked down on me as I kneeled there, shaking from terror. “Let us in.” She said with a smile as she raised the blade to her throat and sliced from side to side three times, spewing her blood all over me, and then she collapsed in a bloody heap. She was seizing, convulsing, dying…but she was still fucking smiling.
Then I ran. Covered in blood I ran out of the store, to my car, an I drove home. 120 miles and hour the whole way. When I got home I locked myself in the bathroom and sat in the shower, crying as scalding hot water washed away the blood. So much blood. That was 14 hours ago. My boss called me 100 times but fuck him. He didn’t see it. He didn’t see the smile. He didn’t hear that childish voice demanding “Let me in.”
Whooooaaaaa I completely forgot! We turn two years old today!
Thanks everyone for keeping this going for 2 incredible years!!
I don’t consider myself to be a particularly superstitious person. Ok sure, I get a kick out of the horoscope once in a while, my boyfriend and I like to humor the idea that spirits and poltergeists exist and how we’d haunt people when we died and came back as ghosts. In fact, my boyfriend refuses to go anywhere near an Ouija Board. Refuses to even think of it. I blame all the crummy horror movies he watches.
“Why even tempt it?” he’d say. “Why would you want to taunt evil ghosts like that? Ghosts never play fair and if you piss one off you’re screwed!”
I don’t think he was ever serious. Just precautionary.
But maybe he was right.
God, this all happened so long ago, but I’m still shaken. Can barely write about it now without my nerves acting up.
Ok, here it goes. A few weeks ago my mom, sis, and I went to Colorado for an entire week on vacation. We were going to drive all over the state, visit parks and go horseback riding and whitewater rafting and so much more. I was excited. And I sorely needed a break from work, anyway.
We drove 16 hours out there, and spent our first day rafting down the rivers. After an exciting day we drove to a ranch house to go horseback riding. We got there at sunset, so it was too late to ride, but we had all next day to ride the trails and see the sights. The ranch was … dumpy. All run-down with scraps of steel everywhere and the shoddy cabins that we were staying in were in desperate need for repair. I swear the roof over our shack of a cabin was a giant piece of drywall with shingles stapled to the top. My sister and I thoroughly checked the place for spiders and bugs before we even thought of bringing our luggage inside.
It was only for the night, I reassured myself. Just one night in a dumpy shack on a rock-hard bed that probably had bed bugs under the sheets. I shuddered at the thought.
My mom tried to cheer us up. She had brought skewers and a pack of giant beef hot dogs to roast over the communal fire pit. Happy to get out of the shack, my sister and I made a nice cozy fire, and soon a few other people from the other cabins came out to sit around the fire and roast s’mores and share stories. We talked about where we were from, where we were going, and our adventures along the way. Pretty soon the stories turned into tall tales and urban legends and the sort of stuff you’d usually tell around a bonfire.
That’s when I spoke up. I loved stories, especially scary ones. And hey, we’re out west, we’re in Native American territory, why not liven the place up with my favorite Indian myth, the legend of the Skinwalkers.
Now, for those of you who don’t know, Skinwalkers are considered very evil, very dangerous beings. They were humans who gained the ability to take on the form of an animal by wearing its skin, usually through very dark and taboo magic. I knew all this, and told my story. Who doesn’t love a good ghost story?
Everyone seemed to be enjoying it. I admit I took some creative liberties with it, really just retelling an old werewolf story but with a skinwalker instead. I bullshitted a lot of the story, really, and added a few things that weren’t in the mythos at all. I gave our beloved frightening skinwalker wide, crazed eyes with pinpoints for pupils with a matching insane smile. I made the skinwalker horribly misshapen with swollen joints and arms that were too long and legs that were too short and a head that never sat straight on its shoulders. I made it as terrifying as I could imagine.
No one minded. They actually really liked it and a man from Kentucky admitted the visuals alone were enough to creep him out. Victory in my book, if you ask me. And once I was done everyone decided it was getting really late, our firewood was dwindling and it was as good a time as any to turn in for the night. We packed up our skewers and s’mores, doused the fire, and headed to our little shacks.
I tossed and turned a lot trying to fall asleep. Couldn’t get comfortable on that damn bed. A rock was probably cozier than that mattress. So against my better judgment, I got out of bed, and walked about the cabin. I reasoned that if I stayed up late enough, I would be so tired that I would fall asleep no matter what I was laying on. I think I briefly contemplated sleeping on the floor. I wasn’t that desperate yet.
It was pitch-black outside. No lights from any nearby street lamps, no car headlights, hell, not even the cabin lights were on. And I don’t remember seeing a single star. It was a bit creepy, but I shrugged off the shiver creeping up my back as simply the cold tile floor making me shake.
I did, however, find it odd there weren’t any lights on at all on the property. You’d think there’d be a floodlight on the horse stables or on the main office, but no, nothing. This was really weird. I stepped outside in my flimsy foam flip flops to get a better look. I could barely make out the ranch. And for some stupid fucking reason I decided to go walking around.
Eventually my eyes adjusted where I could see well enough to move around. I paced up and down the road where the cabins sat and circled around to the fenced in field where the horses were out grazing. Except there weren’t any horses. Probably in the stables for the night, I reasoned. I shivered again. It was getting awfully cold.
I turned right around to head back to my own cabin. It was stupid of me to be out all alone at an obscene hour, I had realized. I needed to get to bed.
But when I turned, there was something in the middle of the road. Its shape was swallowed up by the surrounding darkness; I could barely make it out. It was tall and thin. I shrugged it off as just a pole or something else and kept walking but then it moved.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat and I could barely breathe. I just imagined that, I said. I just imagined it, I’m freaking myself out, get your fucking head straight!
It moved again. My paralyzed throat managed to squeak out a pathetically weak whimper as my legs began to lose strength. I shivered violently against a cold that was building up inside of me.
My eyes began to focus on the impossibly dark figure standing against a barely visible sleet grey night. Now I could see it. It was … it was a person, but like nothing I had ever seen before.
Its arms were impossibly long. Its legs impossibly short. It had a torso far too long for its rail thin body and a head much too big for its stick neck.
Its right arm was sticking out to its side, swinging up and down. Its blockish head, rolled onto its left shoulder, jerkily twitched up and down, up and down. It didn’t move other than that, just stood there, twitching, arms jerking up and down, head lolling around its shoulder. I still stood there like the dumbfuck I was. My cabin was a few hundred yards behind that … thing. And I wasn’t so stupid as to try to walk past it. My only option was to go around, behind the cabins and the stables and hope it didn’t see me.
I forced myself to lift my foot off the ground to step backwards. My flipflop made a wet smacking sound as it flopped against my feet and I immediately froze in horror. The thing stopped too. It stood there perfectly straight, perfectly still, listening. I stayed as still as I could. My breath was shallow and panicked and I tried to force myself to slow my breathing before I started wheezing. My heart thundered in my chest, my whole body was shaking. But I didn’t move. Neither did it.
I began to slowly, so goddamn slowly, bend over and slipped my feet out of those fucking flip-flops. My feet touched the dirt and the crumbly gravel, but at least now I could move silently. I spared a quick glance to the side to see where I was going. Two cabins were immediately to my right. I could slip between them with ease, as there was no visible debris between them.
I only looked away for a second. When I turned back that fucking thing was gone. It was fucking gone, it fucking knew I was there, it was coming for me, oh fuck! Yet I still couldn’t fucking move! I was paralyzed, I couldn’t move no matter how loud my head screamed run run RUN YOU FUCK, RUN! I heard something behind me. I turned instinctively, even though I knew fucking better I still turned the fuck around!
I was greeted with two bulging eyes, oh fuck, its eyes! Staring at me unblinking with two black pinholes for pupils and an insane smile that was stretched far too wide to be anything remotely human.
My paralysis broke as I stared at that fucking thing. I ran, I fucking ran, crying my eyes out, trying to scream but a horrible lead weight in my throat silenced me. My feet pounded on the dirt, I stomped over anything in my way, I even impaled my foot on a sharp motherfucking rock, I didn’t fucking care I just fucking ran!
I felt the cold creeping up my back, oh god, that cold! It was sinking right into my bones and I couldn’t stop shaking or sobbing and I didn’t stop until I burst through the cabin doors and dead bolted the lock and leaped into my bed. I huddled under the blankets, hiding my head and there I gasped and shook for breath.
And I waited.
I didn’t sleep that entire night. I was too scared, I couldn’t get rid of that chill. All I thought about was that thing … standing there and twitching …
Morning finally broke and I finally allowed breath of relief. Whatever I had seen had not come for me, and now that it was light it couldn’t take me by surprise. Mom noticed my bleeding foot, and the blood I tracked through the cabin. I shrugged it off, said I cut myself the night before when we were making s’mores. I don’t think she believed me but she didn’t push it.
We left not long after that. And as we left I looked at the place where that thing once stood and I shuddered again. But there was nothing. I assured myself, there was nothing.
We said good-bye to the ranchers and to our companions, and I noticed the man from Kentucky who said had thoroughly enjoyed my story. He told me again how much he liked it. Said he was going to tell it to his own kids when he got home. They really liked scary stories, he said.
And as we drove away, his head rolled onto his left shoulder, and he smiled a wide, insane smile as he waved us good-bye …