Anything for You, My Dear

You want my name? My name is not important and it stays forgotten, for it is no longer needed. Who I used to be was weak and so is the name given to me by my idiotic parents. I am known as Creepy Mistress by all who speak of me. Why Creepy Mistress? Well you see that’s a long story. But that is what you came here for. Well, where should I begin?

Maybe to start off with that I never really knew my producers. I was left by a dumpster when I was only three years old with a note that said only my birth date and that name that still evades me. This isn’t like every other story where the baby cries and is found by a loving nun. No, not at all. I was found by a mailman that happened to walk by and he took me home. Sounds like a nice guy right? Wrong. He wasn’t anywhere near nice. He molested me and kept me locked up for two years until I finally escaped. I got my revenge later. I spent the next 7 years in different foster homes. When I was twelve, I was sent to Austin and that’s where everything began.

I was just staring at Bedichek Middle School but I looked like I should be graduating from high school. I was quite shapely. I wasn’t too thin and I wasn’t too pudgy. My breasts were well developed, already a D cup at the age of 14. I was pretty. Guys tended to be attracted to me but I wasn’t interested in them. What does that have to do with anything? It has everything to do with what happened. Now please refrain from interrupting.

Now where was I? Oh yes. I wasn’t a normal teenager, but I did have one friend. His name was Josh. He was crazy but nowhere near my level. I met Josh by the cafeteria. Sitting there talking to him I could tell something was up but every time I asked, he just shook his head. I looked around just in time to see it. There was a boy, and he was very handsome, but he looked out of place. He stood behind a girl whispering in her ear but she didn’t turn. It was like she didn’t know he was there. She turned to look at her friend and as she did, that the boy picked up her tray and threw it at a girl on the other side of the room. The girl turned around and looked at the girl who seemed to throw her tray and angrily threw her lunch tray back at her. I scratched my head. The boy was gone, but where did he go? I looked and there he was, sitting halfway across the room watching the whole thing, laughing. I looked at Josh.

“Did you see that?” I asked. Apparently not.

“See what?” Josh responded.

“That boy; he started a fight...”

“What boy? I don’t see anyone.”He looked in the direction I was pointing.

I shook my head “Never mind.” Josh looked at me and began to tell me the story of the school ghost. I listened as he told me the many different ways this boy was said to die, all of which were horribly gruesome. He said his name was Billy.

“Billy?” As I said his name I felt cold air on my neck. The hairs on my body stood up and I heard a faint whisper.

“Yes, my dear, I am here,” It almost felt like a hand was on my shoulder.

Josh looked at me. “Are you ok?” as soon as he asked that I heard a growl from behind me and then as quick as the feeling had come it was gone. The day from then on was anything from normal. Many times throughout the day I felt that same touch and heard words in my ear. The last time I heard it said simply, “Meet me in the theater.”

I was afraid I didn’t know what was going to happen, but curious, I went any way. The feeling that hung in the air should have warned me to turn back. It was dark, too. The only source of light was one small spotlight. I slowly walked toward it as I got closer I saw that there something in the middle of it. I walked up onto the stage and stood in the middle of the light. On the ground there was a single red rose and a piece of paper. I picked them up and looked at the paper.

"Dear beautiful,

Will you dance with me until the end of forever?"

As I finished reading the last word I felt the gush of wind on the back of my neck again. “Well, my dear, what do you say?”

Before I could answer I was staring at him. Billy. His eyes like charcoal reflected me and everything behind me. I felt his ghostly hand in mine. He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me close to him. He starts to move and he dances me around the room. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. He’s ….he’s beautiful…. He’s so amazing. He looked into my eyes. And in his ghostly voice whispered, “I love you.” And I loved him and I wanted to be with him. My head felt light and anything I was thinking had vanished. It was like a voice that told me I’d do anything for him. He smiled and kissed my lips and who I used to be vanished.

He whispered in my ear. “Do you love me too?” I nodded. He smiled. “Then prove it.” He placed something in my hand and then was gone. I looked down. In my hand was a beautiful axe, double sided with a white ribbon tied around the bottom. Upon further inspection, I saw the letters C.M carved into it.

“What does C.M stand for?” I asked aloud.

“Creepy Mistress. That is who you are now.” It sounded like it was coming from the axe. I looked down as it glowed a blood red. A smile spread across my face. Yes this felt right. This is who I was.

The newscaster was heard the next morning. “Seven teenagers were brutally murdered outside of Bedichek Middle School last night. Four girls and three boys were found dead. Not very much is known about the killer's motive but it is known that all seven of the students were members of the theater arts program at the school. Police are doing everything possible to find the person responsible for this. Lord help us all. ”

I heard the sobs of my “sister” in the next room. Poor girl. Her best friend was killed last night. I left and walked to Josh’s house and from there we went to school. When we got to school there were a lot of people crying. It was expected. Me and Josh didn’t speak much until finally he asked me.

“So did you go meet your little ghost?” he asked. I nodded in response. “And what did he want?”

“He just wanted to tell me he loved me and well... I think I love him too.” Josh had a look of fear.

“You can’t be serious! He’s dead. What kind of relationship can you have with a dead guy? Please, if you know what’s good for you, stay away from him,” Josh said. I shot him an icy glare

“Who are you to tell me who I can and can’t be with?” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

“I just have a bad feeling about this, so please listen to me! He’s no good for you.” I moved his hands off my shoulders and walked away angrily

A school assembly was held that day. It was about the recent murders.

I saw Josh at the assembly, but I ignored him. The principle came to the microphone. He spoke of the murders. As he listed the names I could see it all play back in my head. How they begged me to stop, how their eyes filled with fear. I remembered how good the girl's nude bodies looked as I kissed each of their lips and then sliced each of their throats open with my axe. The boy got their turn a quick kiss and a quick death, my red lip stick marked their lips. After they were dead I cut off their left ring finger and kept them as a trophy, I could still taste their blood... If they would have just stayed away from him, I wouldn’t have had to do it. Billy was proud of the mess I made of them.

I heard his voice in my ear. “Mistress, meet me again.”

Luckily for me, the bell rang and I went straight to him.

He was there waiting for me. He pressed his ghostly lips against mine. “My dear, you did a wonderful job protecting me.” I smiled wickedly.

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I do have one favor to ask you…”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

The Dealer

In Old Town, Sacramento, CA (or Old Sac, as referred to by the locals), across from a popular store called Evangeline's, is a peculiar pair of entrances, one on the left leads downstairs to a series of quiet office spaces and a sign saying there is an old arcade down the hall. The other is just an empty hall where there is some antique posters and a few toy shops which have their doors closed even in the middle of the day, despite still having toys inside. Most of the time, people hardly notice either one of these places, or simply choose not to enter them. There is virtually, no one in sight when you enter.

There is no sign of anyone preventing you from leaving, and yet one will get the sense that they shouldn't be there. That they're being watched, but there is no obvious source. At this point most people get unnerved by this and will go no further.

Come night, however, the story changes. Not just night. Late night. Between the hours of one and three to be exact. You must be alone. Go into the right entrance and you will be shocked to find a dark figure hiding in the shadows at the end of the corridor, by the second entrance. His face is hidden by the shadow. Approach him and ask him and simply ask him what time it is. He will tip his head up and reveal a wide smile on a dark-skinned body. You can't exactly tell if that's his actual skin pigment or if it's just the effect of the darkness. He will reply saying 'It's far too late for someone to be asking strangers what time it is, young lad/lass.'

From there, ask him which way North is. His smile will grow even wider this time and he will point to one of the toy stores, obviously NOT the direction of North. Leave him and walk to the toy store. Open the door and go inside. You will behold a vast assortment of toys off all shapes, sizes and eras. You will find toys in perfect condition from as far as the mid-19th century. Even Santa would be proud to have a store like this. If you look back at the door, you'll see a sign saying "Edward North's Gifts and Toys." You are allowed to take three of any toy in the store, but just make sure that the third one is an authentic Indian Tomahawk on display at the very back.

When you leave the store, leave everything, except the tomahawk, at the foot of the store entrance. No need to fret about them being stolen, they will be taken care of. Approach the man in the suit again and ask him this time where south is. He will grin again but this time he'll reveal his nose as well. He will ask to see if you are worthy to know, and you must show the weapon in your hands.

Still smiling, he will tip his hat and proceed to go to the stairway next door. Follow him. He will lead you down the hall, nearly black as pitch. You'll see offices with names of stores and people written on the glass. He will stop in front of a door. This door has no markings on it. Follow him into his office and he'll turn on the light, revealing his full face and his pointed ears. He will pull out a deck of cards and begin to shuffle, staring at you the whole time. He will then place THREE cards face down in an upside-down triangle formation. He will ask only one question. 'East or West?' You must solve the riddle yourself and swing the tomahawk down on the correct card.

If you choose correctly, he'll tip his hat to you again and show you to an arcade called "Frank South's Games & Arcade," You will play games from the past, present and even the future. When you've played to your heart's content, you will black out and wake up to find yourself in your own bed. The toys you've picked out will be on the foot of your bed.

Now, if you pick the WRONG card...

Tenia 5 Demonios Dentro

Nunca me asusté tanto como este día, pero cómo puedo hacer entender a la gente que no fue mi culpa: mi amiga está poseída por 5 demonios…

Todos me tomaron por loco y ahora estoy encerrado entre 4 paredes, todavía me pregunto qué pasó con el vídeo de mi cámara, ¿quién lo tiene?, era la única forma para mostrar que no era culpable, ahora no puedo hacer nada, ¿quién podrá salvarnos?, ¿quién podrá salvarme?…

…

Un día estaba caminando con mi amiga Florencia, ella me contaba que conocía un lugar en donde vendían cosas de magia negra, pero que nunca se había animado a entrar porque le daba miedo, ella me preguntó si la podía acompañar porque quería ver cómo era el lugar y si era cierto todo lo que le contaban sus compañeros, yo riéndome de lo que ella me contaba le dije que sí, pero que la próxima vez no crea en tantas tonteras de lo que le dicen los demás…

Llegamos a esa tienda, tenía un nombre llamado Nybras, en su entrada, habían muchas muñecas de porcelana, eran de diferentes tamaños, además era un cuarto muy grande lleno de ellas. Decidimos pasar a otro cuarto pero era muy difícil porque, a cada paso que dábamos, observábamos como que si las muñecas nos siguieran con los ojos…

Llegando al otro cuarto, vi muchos libros, con una estrella y números en el medio, mucho no me fijé porque creía que todo era falso y solo los ponían para dar un aspecto tétrico a ese lugar, de repente sentimos que alguien pasaba por detrás de nosotros, caminando lentamente, el lugar estaba oscuro y no se veía muy bien…

Nos dimos la vuelta y vimos un hombre muy viejo, tenía una tunica de color azul oscuro y caminaba medio encorvado, el hombre nos miró y dijo que era lo que queríamos…

Florencia le dijo al hombre que quería un collar de los que estaban colgados en una vitrina, el hombre fue caminando y le preguntó cuál de todos era el que se iba a llevar…

Ella le dijo que quería ese que parecía que tenía una víbora en una cruz, el hombre sorprendido miró a Florencia, le dijo que ese collar lleva con él mucho tiempo, casi 23 años y en todo su tiempo nunca nadie se sintió atraído por él, decidió regalarle el collar y nos dijo que ya estaba por cerrar…

Cuando salíamos de esa habitación, observamos que todas las muñecas tenían manchas en la cara, como que si estuvieran llorando, nosotros pensamos que el hombre lo hizo para que nos diera miedo, al salir, sentimos como un llanto de una mujer, como que si estuviera sufriendo, pero no le dimos importancia y nos fuimos…

Flor me invitó a quedarme en su casa ese día, para que molestemos y veamos películas, le dije que sí, creo que fue la peor decisión que tomé en mi vida…

Llegando la noche, veo a mi amiga usando ese collar que le regalaron, sin darle importancia, prendí mi cámara de filmar y comenzamos a molestar hasta que nos pusimos a ver la tele y comer pizzas, aquí comienza todo lo malo…

Recuerdo que eran las 4 de la mañana cuando desperté asustado, no sabía en qué momento quedé dormido pero había sentido como que si alguien me hubiera jalado la pierna, recuerdo que estábamos solos, porque sus padres habían salido así que no podría ser nadie, solo mi amiga, me levanté de la cama y quise prender la luz, sentí que ella me dijo que tenia frío, y dijo si la podía abrazar…

Me acerqué lentamente a su cama, y puse mis brazos sobre ella, estaba helada, le pregunté por qué me tocó el pie, pero no me dijo nada, solo empecé a sentir que ella no podía respirar…

Agarré la cámara que estaba en su mesa de luz y prendí la luz que tiene para filmar, su piel estaba pálida, y sus ojos tenían grandes ojeras que parecían como si estuviera dormida…

Quedé sorprendido, pensaba que estaba volando de fiebre, cuando la quise tocar, sentí que lentamente se habría la puerta que estaba detrás mío, me di la vuelta y cuando alumbre con la cámara no había nadie, me volví a poner de frente y vi que Flor ya no estaba en su cama, la empecé a buscar en medio de la oscuridad con la cámara y pude ver que estaba parada en la esquina de la puerta cerca del baño que daba con su sala…

Le dije que venga y dejara de jugar, ella me miró seria, hizo una sonrisa, levantó su mano y agarró uno de sus dedos, me respondió diciendo que esto era lo ´último que iba a ver de su amiga, vi que empezó a doblárselo hasta que se lo quebró, siguió girando el dedo, hasta que se podía ver la sangre brotar de los costados, ella no mostraba dolor alguno, era como que si no fuera ella…

Mirando lo que estaba haciendo, fui a detenerla pero la puerta de su pieza se cerró sola, como que si el viento la hubiera cerrado, quise forcejear pero no pasaba nada, parecía como que si le hubieran puesto llaves…

Quise prender la luz, pero no había electricidad, comencé a gritarle a Flor para que dejara de jugar y que me abra la puerta, de repente, la puerta se abrió sola y tenía escrito con sangre un mensaje diciendo “Te Animas a Jugar Conmigo”…

Nervioso empecé a alumbrar con la cámara, toda la casa estaba oscura, sentía gritos y risas por todos lados, agarré un palo de jockey que era de ella y comencé a caminar lentamente por el comedor de ella, en el medio del comedor había una mesa, vi que la sangre se dirigía hasta debajo de ella, y cuando alumbre pude ver a Florencia que se estaba cortando sus labios con una tijera y pedazos de carne a lado de ella, tenía un ojo sangrando y cortada las orejas…

Me miró fijamente y me dijo, “te gusta cómo se ve tu amiga, ahora es más linda”, sorprendido por lo que estaba pasando quise creer que todo esto era un sueño, pero al ver que ella se estaba acercando gateando, corrí hasta donde estaba el baño a refugiarme…

Sentía que golpeaba muy fuerte la puerta y que empujaba con una fuerza impresionante, metía sus dedos sin uñas y su lengua por debajo de la puerta, cuando me estaba a punto de dar por vencido, siento que alguien entra en su caza… Eran sus padres con su hermano menor… 

Al sentir el grito de la madre, decido salir rápidamente pero no los encontraba…

Comencé a revisar toda la casa, pero cada vez sentía como que si alguien corriera detrás mío, decidí ir al cuarto de arriba de su casa, pero al subir las escaleras, veo como que si hubieran pelucas con cuero, lentamente me agaché y al tocarlas pude ver la sangre que tenía, que era muy pegajosa, pensaba que se había arrancado el cabello, no me di cuenta hasta que vi a sus padres colgados en las escaleras, no tenían pelos ni cuero cabelludo, ella les había arrancado los pelos…

Sus caras no tenían ojos ni tampoco labios, en sus estómagos estaba escrito, “(padre), apresúrate en encontrar al pequeño, (madre) veremos si llegas a tiempo antes de que te atrape”, levantando la mirada pude observar que ella estaba mirándome sonriente y subió las escaleras…

No entendía qué estaba pasando, por qué mi amiga se estaba haciendo daño y por qué mató a sus padres, pero no quise quedarme quieto antes de encontrar a su hermanito, subí las escaleras rápidamente fijándome que ella no este cerca mío, había un pasillo hasta donde estaban las habitaciones de su hermanito y de los padres…

En la pared al final del pasillo estaba escrito: “cuál camino eliges”…

Ciegamente corrí hasta la habitación del hermano y cuando empujé la puerta pude ver a su hermanito con un palo que le había perforado su boca hasta salir por su espalda y con dos agujas de tejer clavadas en los ojos, sus piernas todas lastimadas llenas de clavos y sus pequeñas manos cortadas…

Me saltaron las lágrimas por el niño que solo tenía 4 años y quería mucho a su hermana, mis manos estaban paralizadas, quería tocarlo pero estaba todo lastimado, sentí una riza muy fuerte en la casa, parecía la de un hombre, cerré la puerta de la habitación de su hermano y la trabé con la cama…

Sentía golpe tras golpe en la puerta, se estaba quebrando, sabía que ya era mi hora, me fijé rápidamente si no había algo en el cuarto y en la pared, pude ver una cruz colgada, al sacarla la envolví en el palo de jockey y esperé el momento para que ella entrara…

Puse la cámara con luz en la mesa de luz para que se confundiera y valla hasta ahí, al romper la puerta, pude ver cómo entraba sus brazos y rápidamente se metió por ese pequeño hueco, se dirigía a la cámara, me levanté y con la parte donde tenía envuelta la cruz en el palo, le pegué en la cabeza dejándola inmóvil…

Agarré un par de sabanas y comencé a atarla, la saqué de la pieza y fui hasta donde estaban las escaleras, la colgué desde sus brazos y cuando la alumbré con la cámara pude ver una cortada profunda que tenia en su ojo izquierdo, al observarlo pude ver cómo abrió su otro ojo y comenzó a gritar diciendo que la liberara…

Agarré la cruz poniéndola cerca de su frente, le dije quién era y por qué le hacía esto a mi amiga...

Me contestó diciendo “realmente tu pregunta tendría que ser quiénes somos y por qué estamos jugando con este pedazo de carne”

Enojado comencé a rezar, mi amiga o mejor dicho quienes estaban dentro de ella comenzaron a gritar y a decirme malas palabras, hasta que volví a preguntar quiénes eran y por qué le hacían eso a mi amiga…

Respondieron “Somos 5 los que están en el cuerpo de tu amiga, el primero se llama “Eurynomus unos de los príncipes del infierno que le gusta alimentarse de los muertos”, el segundo se llama “Abaddon rey de los demonios del infierno”, el tercero se llama “Mastema líder de los Ángeles caídos”, el cuarto “Thamuz el embajador del infierno”, y por último yo el que nadie cree que existe, el ángel que fue desterrado y encerrado hasta que se escapó, el que fue derrotado por un arcángel por el poder de su señor. Soy el señor de toda la maldad, la violencia y la muerte en el mundo, soy “El Diablo, líder, rey y poseedor del infierno”…

Al oír esto fue algo tan escalofriante, su cara comenzó a deformarse y a tomar un aspecto monstruoso, sus ojos parecían de un lagarto, vi que su collar estaba por dentro de su piel, le pregunte si ese collar era el que había causado todo esto y que significaba Nybras que era el nombre de la tienda…

Me dijo “Nybras es el demonio encargado de ser publicista y comerciante del infierno, fue el demonio que nos regaló ese collar, además él fue el que hizo que tu amiga se fijara en ese collar en el cual estábamos nosotros, esperando un cuerpo para matar gente, y cuando la posesión está completa, el collar empieza a entrar por dentro de la piel de la persona hasta unirse, después nada ni nadie la puede salvar, a menos que quieras matar a tu amiga”…

Agarré fuertemente el palo y me puse a pensar, me saltaban las lágrimas, pero era la única forma para detener y que ella pueda descansar, sentía las risas de los demonios burlándose…

Ya había tomado una decisión, matarla para que esos demonios no le hagan ni tampoco hagan más daño a nadie, fui hasta la cocina y agarré un cuchillo, lo puse en su cuello, cuando estaba a punto de cortarle la garganta, entraron por la puerta un par de personas, me tiraron y comenzaron a golpear, era la Policía…

Vi a mi amiga colgada y comenzó a gritar "suéltenme, está loco, mató a mis padres y hermano". Quedé congelado, no podía creerlo, los demonios se estaban haciendo pasar por mi amiga, negué todo, dije que estaba poseída, que traten de acercarle la cruz a la cabeza o que miraran el video, pero no me creyeron, me apuntaban en la cabeza con un arma y me decían que si volvía a hablar, me iban a pegar un tiro y que no había ninguna cámara…

Salí de la casa y pude ver a todos los vecinos que me tiraban piedras, mis padres que decían que era una vergüenza, nadie sabía nada, no tenía la culpa, me subieron a la patrulla y en otra iba mi amiga, o mejor dicho ellos…

Al llegar a la comisaría, me golpearon hasta quebrarme un brazo y una pierna, y me metieron a la celda, mientras que mi amiga estaba sentada siendo atendida por los médicos que estaban en la comisaría, comencé a gritar que estaba poseída, pero no me hacían caso…

Ahora solo faltan minutos para la muerte, estoy lastimado, inmóvil, ¿qué puedo hacer? No me creyeron cuando les avisé… 

Se acaba de cortar la luz, siento a esos policías gritando y disparando, quise advertirles pero no importa, nada cambiará, cuando me fijé en la ventana de la puerta, pude ver su cara que estaba mirándome, se corrió rápidamente y comencé a oír pasos, cada vez más fuertes…

Hasta que dejaron de sonar los pasos y entré en medio de la oscuridad de la celda…

Una luz se veía, mi cámara estaba adentro prendida y filmándome sentado…

Sentí una mano muy fría en mi hombro y la otra en mi garganta…

Y en la oscuridad se sentían las palabras que me decían…

"¿Tienes miedo a jugar?"...

The Hills

Did you ever hear of the tales of women roaming the hillside? Their moans and screams are heard for miles around. They will slowly start to get louder and louder until they just stop....Then what? Well, I finally found out what happens when those screams stop. It all happened the other night. I work at a lumber yard. I don't really cut the lumber, or even work outside for that matter. I just do the mundane office work. We always get a man, his name being James Roberts. He calls us every day, at least 5 times a day, to complain about us cutting logs near his property.

After the 5th call I became fed up with this guy so I decided to take the rest of the day off. It was already 8 o'clock at night anyway and I was the only one at the yard, so it didn't really matter all that much. I got into my car and decided to take my usual way home. I normally take the service road. It is a very fast way home, because there really isn't any traffic. Normally, there is nobody on the road, but tonight was a special night. The road is very far in the woods, so it's pitch black. I remember getting only three miles down the road, but then I started hearing some kind of noise in the distance... It sounded like a female's scream; high-pitched and generally terrified. This gnaws at the back of my skull for a bit, but eventually I get over it.

Most of the teenagers here go out in the woods to drink and ride their ATV's around. They don't really mess with us so I'm no too worried. Once I finally get to my house, I decide to open all the windows to let some cool evening oxygen in. Once I get settled, I make some dinner for myself, a microwave meal. About half way through my meal, I heard the same screams again. This worried me a bit more, because my house is really far in the woods, and I have never heard the kids scream this close to my house.

I looked outside my window. Now when you look out my window, you can see some trees, and then you see hills. The hills are these amazing, beautiful, rolling wonders that seem to go on forever. I can't really see that much outside my window due to it being so dark. I decide to let it go and just sit back and relax. I settle into my seat, grab my laptop, and start doing some work... But then I heard more screams.

They were louder. They were more intense, too; they had more emotion to them. I close my laptop quickly and race to my closet. I always keep a small handgun in a narrow opening in my closet wall for protection, so I grab the gun and race to the window. As I was doing so, the screams were getting louder and louder until they sounded like they were not father away than 500 feet from the house. I look outside the window and hear a very loud scream. I stepped back from the window, and the scream got so loud it sounded like it was right outside the window, but then.... It stopped.

I slowly pointed my gun at the window, shaking. I slowly took my other hand and started to move the curtain from the window cautiously. What I saw is still ingrained in my head. When I opened the curtain, I saw a woman's bloody face. She had long black hair, and her mouth... Oh, god her mouth! It was very large and wide... It was like an abyss too; never ending, and pitch black. It was an abyss with a rotten smell, that's for sure. Then she started to bang her head against the window, screaming at the top of her lungs once more. The blood was pouring down her face and she would just stare at me with those blank, empty eyes. I got scared... I fired a round into her head.

That had no apparent effect on her, because she just kept on going. Then she stopped, looking behind her, and resumed her scream. She paused once more. She looked like she was waiting for someone, or something, for that matter, to respond. Then another scream came. Then another and another and another. It sounded like there was at least 10 of them -- were they... Trying to sing? No, that was a silly thought. She then looked back at the window and started to scream again. I ran back into my bedroom and pulled out my machete, since the gun had no obvious effect on the screaming nuisance -- well, more like terror -- either way you put it, she was seriously creepy.

I ran back to the living room and the screams were getting louder. When i got back to the window, I saw many of them -- all women -- just banging their heads against my window... Their bloody heads of hell. I slid my machete through the window, breaking it and going deep in one of their heads. But it wouldn't come out of her head! I knew that was an idiotic move, because they started pouring into my house.

I started to fire in wild uncontrolled finger movements. They then grabbed me and started to tear my arms and legs apart. One of them tore my stomach open and took my intestines and start to chew into them. Another took my heart and started to nibble it. Funny, now that I think about it, because all I was thinking was "Damned cannibals!" Another then took the muscle from my body and started to chew them off like they were chicken. Once they tore me to bits and had nothing else to eat, they started to scream again. Walking out of my house screaming. Moving on to their next target.

Do you wanna know how I'm able to tell you this, even though I was eaten? I have become one of them. We are coming for you. Don't look out your window or I will kill you. I will rip your heart out and drink the blood from your veins and then start to tear the flesh from the bones of your body. We will always find you, no matter where you hide, where you run. We are always in the hills, watching, waiting... Won't you join us, and feel the glory of blood seeping through your hair?

El Telefono Publico

Este chico si que es irresponsable- Me quejaba yo por las 2 horas que se demoraba mi amigo Dayer, quien con su voz de ”niño bueno” nos dijo ”a las 10 am estoy en el parque”, y solo estabamos yo y mi otro amigo Jose Luis.

A Jose Luis no parecia importarle mucho, el se distraia viendo a los niños jugar futbol, ”que mal juegan” me decia. En un momento de aburrimiento, decidimos echar una siesta en el parque mientras esperabamos que Dayer llegara, después de todo, sin el no podiamos ir a un lugar, que no especifico pero solo digo que el solo nos podia dejar entrar. Antes de echarme a dormir, pude notar a una chica hablando por el telefono publico, solo me fije, no le preste atención y me heche a dormir. Una rama que me cayó del arbol bajo el cual dormia me hizo saltar de golpe. Lo primero que hize fue fijarme la hora.

-25 minutos y ese idiota no llama- dije yo volviendo a quejarme del irresponsable de mi amigo.

-Dale mas tiempo, y no me hables que quiero dormir- me dijo Jose Luis, quien fue el primero en llegar, y claro, el primero en cortar su sueño.

En eso al voltearme para volver a mi siesta, veo que la chica seguia hablando por el teléfono público, lo raro era que desde que la vi, ella no hablaba, parecia más bien que estaba escuchando. Ya habian pasado 25 minutos o mas desde que la vi, quien sabe desde que momento haya estado ahi, y de por si no es normal que una persona este tanto tiempo en un teléfono público.

-Cuantas monedas habrá gastado- me dije pensativo, y decidí en vez de dormir, observarla.

Mis ojos se rendian ante el sueño, pero yo seguia mirandola. Habrían pasado unos 15 minutos más pero ella seguia ahí, en el teléfono público, sin hablar y sin depositar monedas.

-Oye Jose Luis, ¿te has fijado en esa chica de aya?- le dije a mi amigo mientras lo sacudia para llamar su atención.

-Que tienes esa chica- me respondió.

-Esta parada ahi hace mas de 40 minutos sin decir nada.

-Tal vez esta hablando con su novio, dejala en paz ademas a ti que te interesa lo que haga.

Poco despues de que Jose Luis dijera eso, pude notar que la chica colgó el telefono, solo después que una sonrisa se marcara en su rostro.

-Mierda, vamos a ver- le dije a Jose Luis, empujándolo para que avanzara. Pero grande fue mi sorpresa cuando nos dimos cuenta de que el teléfono que ella estaba utilizando estaba descompuesto y al parecer, hace mucho tiempo. -Tal vez es una enferma mental- me dijo Jose Luis sin importarle mucho. Unos minutos después llego mi amigo Dayer y nos fuimos a ese lugar, del cuál no les puedo dar información.

Al día siguiente, fui a llamar desde un teléfono público a mi papa ya que necesitaba que me lleve a un lugar que no conocia para una entrevista de trabajo. Como yo vivía cerca de la ubicación del teléfono público desde donde llamaba esa misteriosa chica, pasé por ahi solo ppor curiosidad.

Ahí estaba. La misma chica hablando o escuchando, o creyendo escuchar desde el telefono. ”Esta loca” pensé, y busqué otro teléfono público desde donde llamar a mi padre. Pero mi naturaleza desde pequeño siempre había sido la de ser curioso, siempre me atrajo el misterio, el terror y cosas que necesiten valor para demostrarse, esta era una de ellas y yo lo sabía, como tambien sabía que ella no estaba loca, o por lo menos no tanto. Al día siguiente decidi sentarme en el parque y ver si llegaba. Llegé a las 9 am puesto a que las dos veces que la vi fue poco después de las 10 am y a las 10:30 am, entonces creí que vendría más temprano. Hasta que a las 9 y 35 llegó. Tomó el telefono, y púso una moneda. Se quedo callada. Puse a andar un cronometro para tomar el tiempo en que demoraba esa llamada. Mis ojos eran seducidos una vez más por el sueño pero mi convicción era mas grande y luche por mantenerme despierto hasta que esa chica soltara el teléfono.

Exactamente a la hora volvió a sonreir y soltó en telefono. 1 hora. 1 hora que demoró la llamada y solo púso una moneda. La curiosidad me mataba, entonces decidí esperar hasta que se fuera de mi vista, para correr al teléfono y esta vez hacer yo una llamada. Hize lo mismo, puse una moneda y espere. El telefono como siempre apagado ¿cual era el truco?, como tenia una hora decidi dejar el telefono de tal manera que no se corte la llamada, despúes de todo como esta alogrado nadie se preocuparia de devolverlo a su sitio. Minutos antes de que llege la hora, volví y cojí el teléfono. Ya solo faltaban segundos para cumplir la hora y descubrir si ciertamente esa chica era una enferma mental, o si el teléfono, pues, no era inservible despúes de todo. Fué grande mi sorpresa cuando al cumplirse la hora escuché una voz gruesa que me hizo saltar.

-Pardos- dijo la voz que no volvió a repetir ruido alguno. Me quedé con el telefono en la mano. Una voz. Una hora despúes una voz me dijo ”Pardos”, pero ¿que significaba lo que me dijo?

Al llegar a casa me llamaron los de mi entrevista de trabajo, y me dijeron que me habían aceptado, que empezaria a trabajar la proxima semana y que el día de mañana debia acercarme para firmar el contrato. Estaba realmente contento por la nueva oportunidad que se me daba cuando sono mi celular, pero esta vez eran de otra empresa, de Pardos Chicken, y como tambien habia enviado mi curriculum a ellos, me llamaron para una entrevista. Pero ya tenia trabajo asegurado, deberia decirles ”no gracias” o simplemente colgarles. Cuando hiba a hacer eso, me acorde de la voz del teléfono público. ”Pardos”. No perdia nada en ir e intentar.

Fue lo mejor que pude hacer. Resultó que el puesto que me ofrecian tenia mas beneficios que el trabajo al que ya me habían aceptado y tenia mucha mejor paga. Así que decidi quedarme con Pardos. Estaba realmente agradecido con la voz del teléfono público que decidi volver a visitarlo. Ese mismo día se me habian perdido 5 soles, pero no les di importancia, todavia tenia un sol para llamar desde ese teléfono público. Hize lo mismo, deposite la moneda, deje el teléfono, me fui a descansar, y volvi en una hora. Al llegar, volvi a escuchar la voz, solo que esta vez me dijo con un tono entrecortado ”En-el-patio”.

Colgé. Rápidamente fui a casa y vi el patio. No había nada, excepto algo brillante en medio del pasto, una moneda de 5 soles, seguro se me debio haber caido mientras llegaba a casa y no lo escuche porque el pasto no hizo sonar su caída. Estaba tan agradecido con ese telefono, que comenze a utilizarlo para todo. Si se me perdia algo recurria a el, si debia tomar una decision recurria a el, ya casi se había convertido en un amigo intimo para mi, aunque claro, no le conté a nadie lo del teléfono, ni si quiera a mi familia. Todo hiba bien, de maravilla, hasta que llegó ese fatidico día. Bueno, yo hiba a comprar tranquilamente a la tienda que estaba a la vuelta de mi casa cuando me tope con ella. Era la chica que vi por primera vez usando ese telefono público. Yo segui caminando pero ella se me puso en medio y me dijo ”No vuelvas a usar mi telefono” y se fue. Bah! no le hiba a hacer caso, es un teléfono público y todos tienen derecho a usarlo. Además si lo volvia a usar que hiba a hacer ¿llamar a la policia? por un momento vacilaba con esos pensamientos sin darme cuenta en el lio que me había metido.

Ese mismo día, después de usar el telefono para saber que juego descargar a mi computadora, vi a esa chica de lejos. Ella estaba mirandome atenta desde una esquina, y wao, si que parecia fuera de orbita. Estaba como drogada, tenia una mirada fuerte, y al ver que yo la vi, corrio hacia mi. Rayos estaba sangrando, tenía cortes por todos sus brazos y piernas. Ella corria de una manera alocada, a la par gritaba desmesuradamente ”MI TELEFONO MI TELEFONO DEJA MI TELEFONO TE LO ADVERTI” mientras corria como si no le importara que un carro la atropellara al cruzar la pista, como si yo fuese su objetivo, su prioridad para clavar esas tijeras que llevaba en su mano. Sin pensarlo dos veces corri. No podia volver a casa, ella me seguiria y sabria donde vivo, ¡seria peor!.

Eran aproximadamente las 6 de la tarde y no había casi ningún alma en la calle a quien pedir ayuda. Pero como yo era muy rápido logre perderla, fue en ese momento que una idea llego a mi mente. ¡Ya se! me dije, utilizaria el telefono para saber como deshacerme de ella o como calmarla, lo que sea que me diga el teléfono sera sobre ella y me ayudará, después de todo, siempre me dice cosas que debo saber. Deposite una moneda, lo deje colgando, rápidamente me escondí en el parque, en una pequeña habitacion donde se hallaban las herramientas del conserje de la municipalidad y cerré con llave. Al pasar una hora decidí asomarme a ver si la chica estaba por ahi, al ver que no estaba, corri rápidamente al teléfono público. Solo faltaban dos minutos. ¡Rayos! debi salir cuando solo faltaran segundos. Espere dos minutos con el corazon en mi mano, volteando y girando a ver cada calle y cada extremo de la pista haber si se acercaba esa extraña muchacha deseando escuchar esa gruesa y entrecortada voz emergiendo del teléfono público. Llegó el momento y pegue mi oido al teléfono, dandome cuenta lo mucho que había llegado a depender de el ultimamente y que por culpa de ese teléfono mi vida estaba colgando de un hilo.

Escuche su voz, esa voz que siempre me había ayudado, esa voz que me tenía encadenado a su dependencia, voz sabia a la que recurria en momentos de necesidad, me alegre al oirla una vez más, aunque al terminar de escucharla me di cuenta de que todo era en vano, y que esa voz me podia decir que camino tomar pero no alterar el camino, mostrarme la manera de resolver el problema, pero no resolverlo. No recuerdo nada más despúes de haber escuchado la voz salir de el teléfono público, tal vez todo paso tan rápido que ni siquiera lo sentí, solo recuerdo lo que la voz me dijo: ”Detras-de-ti”.

Robert the Doll

n the late 1800s, Thomas Otto and his family moved in to a mansion at the corner of Eaton and Simonton streets in Key West, Florida now known as the Artist House. The Ottos were known to be stern with their servants, sometimes even mistreating them. It was the treatment of one such Haitian servant that provides a twist in this story.

This woman was hired to take care of their son, Robert. One day, Mrs. Otto supposedly witnessed her practicing black magic in their backyard and fired her.

Before she left, the woman gave Robert a lifelike doll which stood 3 feet tall, had buttons for eyes, human hair (believed to be Robert's), and was filled with straw.

Dolls that resembled children were not unheard of during this time, but this one proved to be special. Robert named the doll after himself and often dressed it in his clothes. Robert, the doll, became his trustworthy companion. He took it with him on shopping trips into town. The doll had a seat at the dinner table where Robert would sneak it bites of food when his parents weren't looking. Robert would even be tucked into bed with the boy at night. Soon this innocent relationship took on a strange nature.

Soon after, Robert chose to be referred to by his middle name, Gene, after being scolded by his mother. He told her that Robert was the doll's name, not his. Gene was often heard in his toy room having conversations with Robert. Gene would say something in his childish manner and responses could be heard in a much lower voice. Sometimes Gene would become very agitated, worrying the servants and his mother. She would, on occasion, burst in to find her son cowering in a corner while Robert sat perched in a chair or on the bed glaring at him. This was only the beginning.

Household objects would be found thrown across the room, Gene's toys turned up mutilated, and giggling could be heard. Whenever these unusual acts took place, Gene always said, "Robert did it!" The boy took the punishment but always insisted that the blame was Robert's. As the mischief grew, more and more servants took their leave as new ones were hired. The Ottos' relatives felt it was time to do something. With the recommendation of a great aunt, Gene's parents removed Robert from his care and placed him in a box in the attic. This is where he resided for many years.

After the death of his father, Gene was willed his boyhood home. He decided to live in the Victorian mansion with his new wife. Gene had become an artist, and felt the house was spacious and would provide a place for him to paint. He went to the attic and dusted off his childhood toy. He became attached to the doll despite his wife's displeasure. Gene would take the doll along with them everywhere they went. He even sat in his favorite little chair while Gene and his wife slept nearby. The Turret Room became Robert's domain after Mrs. Otto moved him back to the attic. Their marriage slowly became sour until Mrs. Otto supposedly went insane and died of unknown reasons. Gene followed soon behind.

Robert supposedly attacked people, sometimes locking them in the attic. People who passed by claimed to hear evil laughter coming from the Turret Room. For some time, Robert remained in the empty house by himself until a new family purchased the mansion and restored it. The doll was once again moved to the attic. This pleased it as much as the last time. The doll was often found throughout the house. On one certain night, Robert was found at the foot of the owners' bed giggling with a kitchen knife in hand. This was enough to send them fleeing from the home.

Robert was later moved to the East Martello Museum in Key West, where he sits perched in a glass box. Despite his new living quarters, the doll is believed to not have given up his menacing ways. Visitors and employees claim they have seen the doll move. His smile has been known to turn into a scowl. One employee cleaned Robert, turned off all the lights and left for the night.

The next day, he returned to find lights turned on, Robert sitting in a different position than the night before and a fresh layer of dust on his shoes. Some say he'll even curse you. If you want to take a picture of him, you must ask politely. He'll tilt his head in permission. However, if he doesn't and you take the picture anyways, a curse will befall upon you and anyone who accompanied you to the museum. The same will happen if you make fun of him.

To this day, Robert remains at the East Martello Museum in his sailor suit clutching his stuffed lion, continuing his menacing ways.

Umbra Domina

I will never soon forget the day my I met her. On December 5, 1988, I met her. Serena Umbrae, my wife. She has black hair that blends with the night sky, a figure that was desired by every other boy in our class. Then there were her eyes, oh goodness her eyes. They were that kind of shimmering silver that you see reflected on the ocean at midnight. I saw a lot of that in my college days, living in St. Augustine.

We met in Flagler College, that ancient building in St. Augustine that fills me with hope for the current generation. We are both big into fine art, sharing the same inspiration for our drawings and paintings. Our inspiration came from Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh. I wasn’t really big on sketching. But my wife is. I’d always see her with that pen and that sketch pad, drawing away. And here’s the weird thing. I never found out what it was she was working so hard on.

We left Flagler College as a happy couple, still dating, and we never got sick of each other, and we were constantly told that we were the cutest couple, me being such a dark and odd fellow and her being the bubbliest person that there ever was. We eventually moved in with each other, and, not long after that, got married. I proposed to her on a full moon on the St. Augustine Beach, symbolizing the Starry Night that inspired us as young adults. She thought it was so romantic she just couldn’t say no. The wedding was beautiful, but nowhere near as beautiful as my wife. But even after we were married, she continued working in her sketch pad. Sometimes I feel as if she loves that pad more than me. But now I know why.

Well, I tend to watch the news a lot more than I used to, and there was the weather, the abductions, the murders. But worst of all, there was a picture of what looked like my wife and her note pad. Then, with a small touch of static, a sketch of Starry Night, drawn in blood, appeared; half finished with “I’m Sorry” scribbled onto the unfinished half. I turned around, and there she was.

My wife stood at least a foot and a half taller, with dark hairy appendages protruding from her back. In her hands was a finished sketch of Starry Night, drawn in blood. But the moon was a skull. And a signature of what appeared to be darker blood was “Umbra Domina.” And that’s it, that’s all I remember. I just remember waking up in this strait jacket.

I can still see that skull, to this day. But trust me, Umbra Domina is still out there, and it’s still in need of blood for her next masterpiece.

KILLER VOICE

There was that sound again. That terrifying, growling noise. What was it? I whipped around and almost got heart failure. Not because there was a dog growling at me. Not because a bear had found me in the woods. But because there was nothing there. How could it be? It just was not possible. I had sensed a hand creeping down his back, its touch icy cold like the winter snow, and the growl had reached my ears from behind. But when I turned around, there was nothing.

“Hey Morty! Get back to work!” my friend, John, yelled. “We need loads of wood for the fire tonight!”

I grabbed the axe that I had dropped on the ground and swung it at the tree with all my might, slicing into the trunk. With a few swings, all that was left of the tree was a small stump on the ground. Then it came again. The touch on his back.

“Morty…” the growl sounded human, like someone was really, really angry, but he was trying his best to keep it calm. I almost dropped the axe on my legs and screamed with terror, but I decided to find the person playing the practical joke on me and give him a good smack in the face.

“Shut up, John, it’s not funny!” I shouted. But it was stupid, because John was cutting another tree right next to me. But at the moment my mind was not functioning.

“What? What did I do?” John frowned at me, letting his arms hang on his sides.

“Dude, stop caressing my back and whispering my freaking name in my ear. You wanna be a ghost? I’ll kill you and you’ll get your wish!” I yelled.

“Man, no one’s caressing your back and whispering your name! There’s no one behind you!”

“Yeah, right…”

“Shut up and continue with your work! Stop playing practical jokes on me!”

I decided to let it pass. No way to argue with a moron.

That night, we started a campfire. The winter was really cold out in the woods. Our shack wasn’t that warm too, and if we started a fire in it, our whole shack would burn down, because it was the most makeshift shack you could find, so we decided to have the campfire behind the shack. We roasted some fish that we caught and ate happily. Me…I was not really happy. The growling had stopped but I still had that feeling that someone else was watching.

“Morty, it’s probably the wind or something, because far as I know, there’s no one in this area except for us. We’re just doing our job and cutting wood to earn a living, anyway, so just focus on the job for the next few days and get it done fast! Maybe you haven’t been getting enough sleep too, so you’re probably hallucinating. Just don’t worry, dude. We’ll get out of here soon enough…” John said.

His reassurances would never console me.

Tonight. Tonight.

Something was going to happen that night. I knew it. I felt it. I smelled it. I saw it happening, but I didn’t know what it was. It was going to hurt us. It had latched on to us. It was going to enjoy watching us suffer.

“Morty, something wrong? Is it that voice again? You look pale, man.”

“Nothing’s wrong, John! It’s all fine…”

It wasn’t. Nope. Tonight. Tonight, Morty, tonight. The voice I had heard. The growling. It was all in my head. But it was real. Someone was there. Hiding. Waiting. Tonight, tonight. Yes…tonight something would happen. Something that would bring him happiness beyond imagination. Oh, yes, tonight. It would happen. I suddenly felt a longing for blood. I looked into the night sky. The moon was blood red. It seemed as though the devil was staring down at me, grinning at me wickedly, making me choose. Tonight, you die. Tonight, he dies. Which one?

“Tonight, John, tonight.”

“Tonight, what?” “Tonight. It will happen.”

“What will happen?”

“Tonight…”

He looked really scared. He should be. The last thing I remembered was him dragging me into the shack and dumping me on the sofa to sleep with the blanket covering me. Then he went to another room and shut the door, locking it too.

Hopeless. It’s impossible to evade me forever.

With that, I, too, went to sleep.

I woke up with a terrible headache, but I felt like all my life I was carrying a 10kg sack of rice on my back and now it was finally lifted off of me.

“John?” I called. “John, you there?”

Not a single sound. Probably deep asleep. Outside the sky flashed with lightning, and the rain droplets were slamming into the windows and the main door, as though trying to break through. I noticed the John’s room door was ajar. The light was off. I crept forward and opened the door fully. Everything was perfectly clean. A dent in the mattress showed that someone had recently slept on the bed, but he was gone. A creak. There was no mistake. It was the sound of a door opening slightly. I whipped around instantly and grabbed a loose wooden plank beside me. My bedroom door was ajar too, and I kicked it open. No one.

“Who is it?” my voice trembled as I spoke. Someone unwelcome was in our shack. I was almost certain. “Morty, oh, Morty…” someone caressed my back and whispered in my ear.

“What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” I was almost screaming now. Scrambling away from my bedroom, I stood in the middle of the living room, randomly swinging the wooden plank around, guarding myself from an invisible person.

“Who are you...?” the voice whispered in my ear, and I felt a sudden urge to laugh manically. I confidently strolled up to my bedroom door and pushed it open. There was a hole in the ceiling where the rain was pouring through. A ladder was propped against the wall underneath the hole. I climbed it without knowing who had blasted the hole in the ceiling or put the ladder there. At the moment, all I wanted was the truth. What was going on?

“The truth could be very powerful…” it whispered in my ear again.

“I don’t care,” I said loudly. “It doesn't matter! Nothing matters? Where’s John, eh? Where’s my friend?”

“You don’t want to know…” I was standing on the roof. It was unusually red. The wood was wet. I touched it and licked it. It was a metallic taste.

Blood.

And on the roof? The voice was right. I didn't want to know the truth. The truth was a very powerful thing. It could kill someone. Even worse, it could spare you, but destroy you emotionally, so that living was much worse than dying. The truth made me feel that way now. The truth made living worse than dying. But the secret to defeating the truth was to embrace it and accept it. That’s what I did. And that choice made my life better—or my death. There the body lay, on the roof, a terrified expression on its face. John never looked more scared in life. But now he was as scared as he could be. There was a bloody hole in his chest. That weight in my pocket…why hadn’t I felt it before? I reached into my right pocket, closed my fingers around the object and pulled it out. It was a dagger. Then the laughter came. It never ended. Maybe I would die this way, unable to breathe because the laughter kept coming. But the laughter turned into screams soon enough, as a loose wooden plank burst out of the roof and shot into my neck, instantly killing me.

I could feel, smell, touch and hear. I heard screams of agony and I felt my skin blistering. I could smell something burning. Opening my eyes, I realized that I was still alive.

“No, my dear boy. Not alive at all. You are perfectly dead…”

I turned around and stared. The devil stared back. It was grinning, like the moon that night. That night… I had killed John. I had murdered him. And then I had died. But how did I die?

“You don’t understand, do you? Perhaps I should show you who you really are, and what happened…Perhaps a glimpse is in order.”

I understood what had happened after I died. I had been transported to Hell, where most criminals dwelled and screamed in agony as they were tortured for their crimes. But there were exceptions, like me for example. Satan felt happy that there was another person to join his cause, and he sent them out to roam the Earth and bring about terror and destruction. I was one of those people. And I was proud.

There they were, the two of them innocently sitting in front of the campfire. There I sat, looking terrified. So that’s how I looked…was I really that scared? Scared of myself? I had no idea. Laughing at my own stupidity, I floated over to him, or rather, I floated over to myself.

"Tonight, Morty," I whispered in his ear, "Tonight..."