Each and every time I asked Dad what he was doing in the basement, his answer was always the same.
“I’ll show you when you’re old enough.”
I imagined he meant old enough to drive, so that I could dispose of bodies for him in the woods. Or maybe old enough to drink, so that I could scout out our next victims at dive bars. Or, possibly, old enough to own a gun, so that I could more efficiently partake in the slaughter.
Patrick Albers claimed he was a Vampire.
Even at 11 years old you know it’s absolute nonsense.
But because you’re 11 you encourage this; a paradox bought on by children being the right sort of smart but the wrong sort of wise.
He preferred the nickname ‘Caligo’ which he said was Latin for Vampire. It earned him a lot of School insults. Obviously.
Twenty-three kids, no more. That was the plan.
It was my therapist’s suggestion that I give out candy this Halloween, and I’d been making such progress that it sounded like a good idea. I moved to this quiet hamlet at her recommendation, after all; the familiarity of a small town should help with the paranoia. And it has, until tonight.
My husband is a naval test pilot. He wants to be an astronaut, so he attends several conferences and training sessions every year. Yesterday, after being gone for several weeks, he returned home…different.
His eyes were darker, the iris almost black where it used to be a bright summer green. Four times I’ve found him standing in doorways, perfectly still, staring into nothing. Last night was the worst, it was terrifying. He got up out of bed around 11 and walked across the room. At first I thought he was heading to the bathroom or kitchen, but the bedroom door never opened. I turned over, flipped on the light and screamed. He was standing in the corner of the room closest to me, facing the wall. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was muttering. Hands in fists and swaying. I didn’t want to, but I approached him slowly, carefully and reached out.
All seven of us made it back that day.
We’d left early morning. It was cold. Heavy snow the night before.
It was supposed to be a simple job. The higher-ups had managed to hack some distribution warehouse’s manifest. We had a shopping list of supplies; everything we’d need. Every. Fucking. Thing.
Must be around five now. I’m not sure, wish there was a clock in my room. A noise outside. Mommy’s car driving away. A shiver runs down my spine. This is it. Mom is gone again, which means I’m alone with… him. He’ll come. Any moment now. Bastard, I won’t let him. I won’t put up with it anymore.
*He’s gonna hurt you. * Shut your pie hole. If he hurts me again, I’m going to tell.
When I first saw the post, I didn’t know how to react. “Prices constricting websites rising yet again.” I sat there, baffled, unsure of how I was going to pay my internet bill, let alone my rent. This was the fourth time in the past three months they’d decided to jack up the prices.
“I’m not sure where all that money was going, but at this point, they’ve probably got enough to employ a small army.”
You did not see the best ones yet… 23 Two Sentence Horror Stories That Will Scare The Hell Out Of You
When I was 12 years old, I was gearing up for an awesome Halloween
out with my friends. At that time, it was still relatively safe for kids
to go combing neighborhoods in search of candy and treats without a lot
of parental supervision. Times have certainly changed now but after
this incident, I’m not sure I’d ever want my kids out alone at night
especially on Halloween.