True horror

This guy drives from Mumbai to Pune and decides not to take the new expressway as he wants to see the scenery.



The inevitable happens and when he reaches the ghats his car breaks down - he's stranded miles from nowhere.

Having no choice he starts walking on the side of the road, hoping to get a lift to the nearest human habitation. It's dark and raining he's wet and shivering.





The night rolls on and no car goes by, the monsoon rains are so strong he

can hardly see a few feet ahead of him.

Suddenly he sees a car coming towards him. It slows and then stops next to him without thinking the guy opens the car's door and jumps in.

Seated in the back, he leans forward to thank the person who had saved his life, but....... he realizes there is nobody behind the wheel!!!

Even though there's no one in the front seat and no sound of any engine even, the car starts moving slowly.





The guy looks at the road ahead and sees a curve coming (remember, this is in the hills and there is a steep, steep drop beyond the curve).





Scared almost to death he starts to pray, begging the Lord for his life. He hasn't come out of shock, when just before he hits the curve, a hand appears through the window and moves the wheel!





The car makes the curve safely and continues on the road to the next bend.

The guy, now paralyzed in terror, watches how the hand appears every time they are before a curve and moves the steering wheel just enough to get the car around each bend.





Finally, the guy sees lights ahead. Gathering his courage he wrenches open the door of the silent, slowly moving car, scrambles out and runs as hard as he can towards the lights.

It's a small town. Wet and in shock goes to a roadside dhaba, which is open, he asks for a drink. They find some hooch and give him a shot.





And he starts telling whoever is in the dhaba about the horrible experience

he's just been through.

A silence envelops everybody when they realize the guy isn't drunk, and is really frightened - he's crying and shaking.

So they give him more hooch and talk about what they should do, whether to call the police or find a priest, or what.

But just then two guys(santa & banta) walk into the dhaba....and says to the other





"Look, Banta - that's the guy who got into our car while we were pushing the car from behind!

Horror Love

Have you heared of horror love? 

Well it is when you marry a guy and he will kill you. 

One day a girl named Carolina. This girl married a man that was 28 and he kill her. 

Because she was looking at a man that was 26. 

(The girl was 12) She got kill right in frount of the boy she was looking for.

So the girl came back to life a kill the man. 

Then the girl got withe the 26 year old boy. 

Then the boy also killed her. 

So if your name is Carolina then the first guy will come and kill you in 24 hours.

A Spirit

One night I had watched a scary movie with my husband before he had to go to work.
I was sitting down under a tree and I look up to see that I am in a cemetery. I walk and I look around, I see a house. I see a big creepy house that looks empty like no one lives there. I stare and study it to see if there might be a possibility of someone living there.
As I turn around to see if there is a exit, I see this figure just blocking my way. It is a man who has his shirt torn and has a cut on the side of his stomach, it is bleeding so much and I say "Oh my, sir are you ok? Do you know if there is a exit?" as I ask I' shaking in fear. He just looks at me with a face as if he wants to just hit me or come at me.. sort of kill me. So I'm scared and I run to the creepy house as the man is chasing me.
I'm screaming and knowing its a dream just trying to figure out how to wake up. So I'm in the house and there is no one there and I go upstairs to look at the windows hoping to see how to get out the cemetery, and I turn around to look for a cell phone, the man is behind me and he says "Please help me. I have been stuck her for years and I don't know how to leave I'm trapped, My name is Angel"
So I wake up and I call my husband and he says its just a dream and that I should really get some rest. I went to bed. The next morning my husband and I drove to Dallas,Tx to visit our beloved family members and we pass by a cemetery and I notice the bricks I seen in my dream and I go and talk to one of the workers and told him about my dream. Then he showed me to the head stone and the head stone had a picture of Angel and I started crying because he was real. As I drive to my grandma's I tell her about it and so did my husband. Then sh says, Vanessa you don't remember Angel?
I say no, then she says remember when you were 7yrs old he died right there then she pointed across her yard. She said you used to always say he would follow you places then you got older and moved you forgot about him. He found you again. My husband was so freaked out and I was like oh.. like as if it didn't bother me!! Ever since that trip and the dream I do feel happy to know that I'm still important to a ghost :) I believe that Angels spirit sill lives and I ALWAYS visit his grave when I go to Dallas.

Part Time Job

Selena Belloes fumbled with the key in her pocket. She rushed to the side door of the tall, brick house.
Let's get this over with, she thought to herself.
The door slowly swung open, door hinges creaking. Selena quickly walked over to the dog crate, holding a big, brown dog. She couldn't remember what breed it was, but she didn't care.
When the dog saw Selena, he started banging around in his cage. It was a struggle to get the leash on the big dog.
After she finally calmed the dog down and got outside, she started walking him. It was more like he was walking Selena; every squirrel or cat, or anything that moved would send the dog into a phsycotic running/barking phase.
Selena became tired of being dragged around and took the dog to the nearest park so he could run around. When she arrived she let the dog loose and sat on the nearest bench. There was another bench a couple metres away. On it, there was a well dressed man. He looked as if he had just gotten out of a meeting. There was something different about this man, but Selena just couldn't put her finger on it.
The man looked up to see Selena look at him, so he smiled. Selena gave him a wary smile back.
"Is that your dog?" The man asked. "No, he's my neighbour's, I'm just walking him." Selena answered.
The man got up and sat down next to her. "Part-Time job? I remember my first job at some fast food joint. Wasn't great. Do you like this job?" He asked.
Why is he talking to me? Selena thought. "Yeah, it's alright. The dog is cute." She pointed to the dog.
"Oh, that's the dog you're walking?" He said. He looked down at the dog and a worried look crept onto his face. When he saw that Selena was uncofortable, he added "Oh sorry, I must be a little creepy."
Selena cut him some slack and giggled. She then decided to pull out her iPod when he walked away.
Later on, Selena got the dog back on his leash and headed out. As she was leaving the park she saw the man she was talking with earlier, sitting on the grass in the middle of the field. He looked up at her, and when their eyes met, his tongue lashed out into the cool air. His tongue was twice as long as a regular tongue should be.
I'm just seeing things, Selena thought.
Walking through the streets towards a trail that lead through the forest, Slena couldn't get her mind off of that man. He was chatting with her, and then he smiles at her, revealing jagged teeth and an unnaturally long tongue. Wierd.
When she made it to the Trail, Selena rested for a minute or two. In the distance, she could see the man walking down the street with hs dress coat slung over his shoulder.
Selena bacame paranoid. "Maybe he's just walking home," She said. But the man then crossed the street over to where the trail started.
Selena started walking again.
When she looked over her shoulder, she didn't see the man. "He probably didn't even go nto the trail." She mumbled.
Suddenly, the dog started to growl. He was pointed in the direction of the nearest bush.
Selena picked up the pace. Out of the bush, the man jumped out, breaking into a sprint towards Selena.
Selena screamed and bolted deeper into the trail. The dog's leash slipped out of her hand and the dog started running ahead of Selena, not even hesitating.
Slena looked behind her. The man was on her heels! Selena screamed again and kicked out at the man. She missed and the kick slowed her down. The man lunged and brought Selena down in a big heap, him on top.
He rolled over and held down Selena's arms on the ground. He lashed his tongue out again and it nicked the side of her face. The saliva burned like acid.
Selena screamed again as the saliva seeped into her cheek. He grinned, and revealed razor sharp teeth spatted with pink saliva. He dove his mouth down toward the flesh on her neck. His teeth cut through her skin like a knife through butter and blood sprayed everywhere. He released his clamp on her neck and licked the side of her face again.
"Stop screaming", he hissed.

Nancy Belloes and two doctors stared through the one way glass. Behind it sat Selena, lying on the end of her bed.
"So tell me again," Nancy said to one of the doctors, "What happened?"
One of the doctors stepped up. He was dressed as if he had just gotten out of a meeting, except he had four streaks of blood on the side of his face where something scratched him.
"I was sitting at the park when I saw the girl walk towards the nearest bench, dragging behind a dog. The dog wasn't moving, so I got suspicious. When she sat down, she began mumbling to herself, staring intently at the dog's carcass, I knew she was a nut job." The doctor explained.
"I sat down beside her and had a nice chat. I asked her about the dog, and clearly she didn't realize that it was dead. When I sat back again on another bench, she pulled out a switchblade with an orange tint to it. I looked closer and saw that it was dried blood. I assumed that it was what she used for the dog. She put on her iPod and I decided to give her some space so I went to the field to keep some distance." The doctor cast a worried look towards Nancy.
"Then she started flicking the blade in and out of the holder and ran off dragging the dog. So I followed her incase something were to happen.
By the time she got to the Trail, she started cutting the dog's corpes with the Switchblade. It was the most disturbing thing I have ever witnessed."
The doctor got tears in his eyes. "I chased her down but she took off and, and..." The doctor paused.
"I had to tackle her to the ground, not before she sliced her cheek and then neck open. The cuts weren't deep but the blood sprayed everywhere from the neck wound. If I weren't medically experienced, she would have died."
Selena looked up from the spot on the white bed she was sitting on. She cast a glance at her mother, and preceded to bang her skull on the wall.

Different

Cassie marched towards me with a malicious look on her face.
"What are YOU doing, freak?" She shot.
I looked up from my book and adjusted my shirt before answering.
"Sitting. What does it look like?" I responded.
"Not here you're not." Cassie replied before pushing the back of my chair foward, sending me flying.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed as I hit the floor in a crumpled heap. I heard a sickening crunch as my arm collided with the floor, bending in an unnatural direction.
"Ow you-" I spat out before the pain from the break caught up with me.
The pain in my arm was agonizing. I had never broken a bone in my entire life, this was awful.
"Oops, did I break your little arm, freak?" Cassie giggled.
Cassie screamed and I turned my head to see a small pool of vomit right by my head.
"Well Autumn, your arm is fractured in three different parts. What on earth happened?" Dr. Rowan asked.
"I slipped," I lied. There was no point making Cassie hate me more. "I was walking to class and I slipped."
"Well," He said to my mom, "Make her stay home for two or three days to rest up, then back to school."
Back to school. Back to Cassie.
Three days later, I returned to school. The first person I saw was Cassie, gossiping with her friends. She saw me, flipped her long brown hair and sauntered toward me. Her friends followed. One of them fished through her bag as she came towards me.
"Oh, hey Autumn. I'm totes sorry about breaking your arm. Now you're even more of a freak." She cackled.
The one girl fishing through her bag finally got what she was looking for and pulled out a thick, black-felt marker. She handed it to Cassie.
"Can we sign your cast?" She asked. I could see that nothing good could come from this.
"Sure Cassie! I would love for you to sign my cast, but can you even spell your own name?" I rudely replied. The girl broke my arm, so I had a bone to pick.
Cassies expresion turned dark. "I tried being nice Autumn." She said.
"Girls, grab her arms." She added as they dragged me to the nearest girls bathroom.
I got home from detention for being late for class, and I headed straight for my room.
I examined my cast. The word "FREAK" was written on every inche of the plaster. Great, I only have this on for another 3 months.
Sooner or later my parents are going to see this and ask who did it to me. I can't think of an excuse to cover this. I looked at the small amount of exposed skin on my arm. It was pale, almost blue, and looked as if some parts had scales.
School the next day was tough. I was cornered again in the bathroom by the Cassie Cult, who thought it would be fun to write 'FREAK' on my forhead. This was too much.
"Cassie, sorry for bursting your 'Disney' bubble, but, I don't really want your handwriting on my skin. No, I don't want anything of yours on my skin." I said sarcastically.
"Girls, grab the freak's arms." Cassie ordered.
As the girl's arms reached for mine, my un-injured arm lashed out and caught a blonde friend of Cassie's face with superhuman strength, knocking the glasses off of her face. The girl yelped and held her nose.
The girls backed off as Cassie yelled, "What are you doing, freak?"
She lunged at me and I dodged away, but not before she got hold of my cast, and yanked upward. I bellowed in pain and fell to the floor. Once again, I violently puked at the feet of the girl whose nose I'd presumebly broken.
The girls fled the bathroom. Behind them was the girl with the broken nose. She scowled at me and left.
In my bedroom, I sat on my bed. I examined my arms. Both of my fingers now had long, jagged claws. Now all the skin on my injured arm was pale blue and some parts red, like blood. My other arm was now becoming blue/red. I picked up a swimming trophy froma few years ago, and crushed it with my hand. Then, the cast on my arm slowly cracked in half as if an invisible saw was cutting through it. The shell fell off, revealing soft skin underneath. There were sores all over my skin squirting pus and blood down my arm; some sores the size of a dime, others the size of a baseball.
Suddenly, my arm convulsed. whipping upward and slashed the claws across my face.
Red streaks of blood ran down my face and I passed out.
The next day I cornered Cassie in the bathroom.
"What do you want freak? Do you want me to tape you to a toilet again like last month?" She teased.
I smiled without humour. I rolled up my sleeves and revealed the clawed, bloody hand, then to the rest of the blue, pusy arm.
Cassie shrieked.
She didn't stand a chance.
The police were called to the school that day. They found a girl in the bathroom, barely alive. She had deep scratches up and down her body, and several abnormally large sores covering most of her torso, arms, and legs. The girls legs were broken.
The part that puzzles the police, is that the word 'FREAK' was scrathed into the victim's forhead.

Friday

I awoke to the sound of my alarm blaring beside my head.
I groggily reached my arm out to shut off the annoying siren. On my clock, it said the date: Friday. I love Friday's!
I went downstairs and grabbed a bowl of cereal, before almost being pushed out the door by my rushing family.
I arrived at the bus stop. I rode the bus almost everyday, and it is boring and stinky. I can't WAIT until I get my own car.
As I'm waiting for the bus, I can see my friend Melissa's car in the distance. When she pulled up I looked to see that my other friends were in the car.
I couldn't make up my mind. Almost all the seats were taken. I decided to sit with Kevin and Sarah in the back.
After a long day of school, I hopped in Melissa's car again and we began cruisin' down the highway. I couldn't remember where Melissa said we were going, but I didn't care! This was Fun! (FunFunFun).
Melissa pulled up at Kevin's party, but Kevin didn't know what day it was. So, I informed him that:
Yesterday was Thursday.
Today it is Friday.
Tomorrow is Saturday.
And Sunday comes afterward.
Kevin thanked me and we partied! YA!
Hey, is that Usher?

The Hounted Souls

It has to do with her in her new house as a kid and she had that room that was closest to the back and she couldn’t sleep in that room at all. Even after her family had been there for a while, she couldn’t. Every time she would try to sleep in there, she would hear this ghostly tone.
She would try to tell her mom about it, but she mom didn’t believe her. Nobody did. No madder how many times she would tell her family she kept hearing the noises, nobody would believe her.
One night her mom had enough of her saying she was hearing the ghostly tone. Her mom told her to sleep on the couch until she got comfortable with sleeping in her bedroom. Even sleeping on the couch for a month or so, she still was afraid to sleep in her room. She could go in there during the day. God forbid she went in there after nine o’clock.
Finally, she got tired of being a sixteen year old baby. So she took her dog and went in there to sleep. The dog could sense a spirit. My grandma’s dog kept on barking without stopping. It was that bad. The dog finally got so scared, it scratched on the door so much that my grandma had to let him out.Her mom heard my grandma screaming all the way from her room. So my grandma’s mom rushed in to my grandma’s room. My grandma was sitting on her bed shaking from the fear. So her mom finally believed her story.
The very next night, my grandma and her mom stayed in that haunted room. My grandma would turn off the light, lie back in bed, and be good for s minute. Then the light would turn on, she would get up and turn it back off. It kept going like that for a few hours. Them put of no were, the door swings opens and puts a dint in the wall. Both my grandma and her mom started to scream bloody murder. They both started walking to the door, well more like slowly creeping to it anyway.
My grandma’s mom heard the same noise grandma had told her about. Only it was trying to say something. Like it was giving them a chance to leave the room for good. They couldn’t make out what it was trying to say.
They stood there for hours trembling the fact the spirit was no joke. All of a sudden, there was righting on my grandma’s wall. It said, “Get out of this room or die trying. It’s not safe in here. I figured you would find that out by now. Leave or I will have to force you to.”
They didn’t believe it, but that next morning, they definitely had their eyes opened. They started to see my grandma’s stuff getting thrown around like ragdolls. Everything she had was crushed. You could hear the voice saying “I warned you. Now leave! Or face the consequences!”
They packed up and moved that next day. They never mentioned that disturbed house again. But they never stopped dreaming about it every now and again.
Legend has it, who every stays in that house, dies of fright within a few months. Now warning for them to leave expect for a few noises that could be mad by the wind or a tree brushing up again the house. But other than that there was not warning. No explosions. Just a bunch of un- answered questions. It’s like a pile of dust on the face of existence that nobody cares about. It will be sitting there for years and no one will have a single reaction to it.

Married To a Serial Killers

The girl's choked scream gave me a sense of satisfaction as I tightened my grip on her neck. She flailed wildly, but it was no use. My iron grip blocked her airways and I could see her face turning a pretty shade of purple. I smiled. This was always my favourite part—when I can feel the life leaving her body by my own two hands. Then she went still. The job was done. I shoved her body into my camo-sack and hoisted her onto my shoulder. In the dead of the night, there were no witnesses. I quietly carried her to my car and threw her into the back seat, then climbed into the front seat and started the vehicle.
I drove to the lake and did not pass a single car on the way. I stopped at the edge of the lake and gathered the sack filled with body in my arms. I shucked her out of my sack and onto the dewey ground. I stared at her, mesmerised by the fact that I had ended her life. But that feeling quickly passed, just like it had with the other girls. I touched her cheek gently, as if I had once cared about her. My fingers curled around her golden locks of hair. I whipped out my scissors from my back pocket and chopped off a few of those gorgeous hairs. It's always something I've done, a way to commemorate the girl I killed. Then without further adue, I picked her lifeless body up and chucked her into the fridged waters of the lake. Almost immediately, she began to sink.
Feeling as though I've completed my misson, I hopped back in the car. I drove back to my home, where only one light was still on. I cautiously opened the door and tiptoed down the hallway. I went into my son's room first. Andrew was sleeping soundly, clutching his stuffed bear. My six-year-old son still had nightmares, but they were less frequent when he had his bear. I bent and kissed his forehead. He didn't even stir. I quietly left his room and started for Samantha's. Samantha was nine years old and no longer needed a stuffed animal to sleep. She just perferred to have one with her. Just as I had to Andrew, I bent and kissed her forehead. Then I backed out of her room and soundlessly entered my room.
"Where have you been, Joey?" My wife, Leann, asked in a hushed voice.
I looked at her. Her blonde hair was messily surrounding her tired looking face. Bags under her eyes indicated that she'd been waiting up for me.
"Sorry, Annie, but my boss needed me to file a few things," I lied coolly.
She smiled weakly. "Can't you tell him you have a family you need to spend some time with?"
I faked a smile back. "He said I wouldn't need to work late for a least the rest of the week."
She sighed. "Well, then I guess that's good. Now come to bed." She patted the bed beside her, inviting me to join her.
I hurriedly undressed and got into my pajamas and jumped into the warm bed with my gorgeous wife.
"I miss you when you're working," she mumbled into my ear.
When she kissed me, I believably acted like I was enjoying it, but really, I was still reliving my latest kill.

Town Vampire

Another wave of shock hit the small town of LockHue on December 14th 1834. People were spending their pennies in the market, trying to get as much as they could before boarding up their houses.
News of a mysterious figure, who seduces men, then kills them was being passed around in town.
Some people even said that the figure would take the men back to her home, and drink the blood from the wound.
People also said that the mysterious figure only victimized men. Me, being a small, young woman was told that I should still take notice, for they did not know what the fiend would do next.
My Mother, now an old hag dying of an illness, had sent me to the market to purchase some food and herbs for her. By the time I arrived, the markets were cleared out.
I bought the remaining items for Mother. No one was at the market except for two young boys I have encountered before.
The first boy stepped up and said, "You're probably the vampire!"
The town had nicknamed the killer, "The Vampire" because of it's method of killing.
'I am not." I replied boldly. "Just because I am a young woman outside at this time of night does not mean I am a blood sucking fiend!"
One of the lads reached into the basket of goods I was carrying and took out an apple.
"I will take this then. Only a vampire could catch me. I am the fastest boy I know." He took off in a run.
Stealing from a young lady was un-exceptable.
I shoved down the first boy and and bit his neck, the boy screamed and then stopped breathing. I drained his body and ran after the other boy with super-human speed.
I jumped onto his back and snapped his neck. I took the apple out of his cold hand.
No one's faster than the vampire.

Alive or Dead???

"Call the AMBULANCE! Mother will Die!" Sophie yelled at Sammy. Sammy immediately called the ambulance 9-1-1. The ambulance go at Sophie and Sammy's house in a hurry. The brought Colin at the hospital. But it's too late! Colin died. Sophie and Sammy cried because their Mother Colin was dead.
"So that's your great grandmother Colin died." Barbara said to her daughter, Sandy. "When did grandmother died?" Sandy asked. "About twenty years ago." Barbara said.
The next day, since at the house. Sandy woke up early and it's SATURDAY! Her favorite weekend. And she was watching tv. While someone knocked at the door.
"Hi Sandy." The woman said. "Aunt Sophie!" Sandy said. She was in joy when she saw her favorite Aunt, Sophie. Barbara wasn't at home that day.
The night, at their house, a Witness of ghost. It's Colin! Sandy's grandmother! Haunting Sandy. Sandy is afraid. "Come, my dear. Come to Grandma. Sandy ran out of the house and called neighbors. And no one heard her. No one.
Sandy screamed very loud and someone heard her. They would go from her tomorrow.
The next day, they ran through her. But it's too late! Sandy diisapeared on darkness. She was dead.
Barbara came home and her neighbors told Barbara Sandy is dead. Barbara was very sad.
But Sandy isn't dead, she was from someone at a lair. Her grandmother Colin at heaven.

Mirror

Selima Alula is standing in front of her full length mirror, grimacing at the obese woman staring back at her. Her diet is obviously not working. She cringes at the stretch marks that have appeared on her stomach and the rolls of fat that encompass her knees and elbows. Selima stares at her sausage like fingers in the mirror, her finger nails barely visible through the fat. She frowns at her unsightly brown hair and begins to cry. A half empty bottle of diet pills sits next to her sink on her vanity.
Her daily workout routine starts with a one hundred calorie granola bar and a five mile run that gives way to three ounces of water and an hour of yoga, from there she goes to work at Millay's Fitness and Health Foods where she is a spinning instructor. For lunch Selima has a four hundred calorie health shake and six carrot sticks. After work, she gets home and has a quarter of an apple, four ounces of water, and jogs another five miles. Dinner consists of a half -boiled chicken breast with four pieces of broccoli and five skittles as a special treat. Before bed she completes an hour of light weight lifting, takes a shower, and goes to bed.
Every morning Selima steps on the scale in front of her full length mirror and everyday it reads consistently between eighty-two and eighty-seven pounds. Fucking piece of shit, she thinks to herself, these things are always wrong. They must be off by two hundred pounds. I wonder when someone will make a scale that is accurate. She steps off the scale and throws it in the garbage.
Selima has a strained relationship with her mother because of her obesity. Her mother is always meddling in her business and trying to get Selima to eat more. How fat does my mother want me to get? Does she want me to end up like Dad? Selima's father died of a massive heart attack due to his weight issues when she was twelve. She could never forgive her Mother for feeding her Dad all those fried, fatty foods, and allowing him to sit around all day without exercise.
This particular morning, as Selima stands in front of her mirror crying, she begins to feel her heart race and her breathing becomes difficult. She is holding eight little white diet pills in her hand. The harder she tries to breath the harder it is to get oxygen to her brain. She notices her ankles were swollen, but contributes that to her obesity. Her skin goes pale as her left arm started to tingle. Selima starts getting dizzy. She drops to one knee and stares into the mirror. The fat monstrosity stares back. Selima slams the reflection of the beast in the face with her tiny fist. She turns around and puts her back against the mirror, to avoid seeing herself. She looks at the pills in her right hand as her chest tightens one last time as everything goes dark. Her tiny, malnourished body sits lifeless against her mirror.
Amiles Alula stands in front of her mirror full of confidence. She sees a thin, beautiful woman staring back at her. Her long legs give way to perfect hips and a tight stomach. Her breasts are supple and perky. She admires her full brown eyes and smiles while she combs her long brunette hair. A half empty box of cookies sits on her vanity next to the sink.
Amiles doesn't exercise very often, hell she never works out at all. Every morning for breakfast she has three eggs, four slices of bacon, buttered toast, and two biscuits covered in gravy while washing it all down with most of a two liter of Diet Coke. After breakfast she gets into her SUV and drives to Jack's Meat Packing, where she inspects the packaged meat for any defects. If she is lucky she might find one mistake a week. When the horn for lunch blows, Amiles drives herself to the nearest drive-thru and orders various combo meals. Her favorite is the #3, a triple cheeseburger and large fries, paired with a #12, a double fish sandwich with extra tartar sauce and large fries. Every day she gets something different, but this meal is always a constant.
After work is done for the day, Amiles goes home and makes a healthy, homemade dinner. Meatloaf and brown gravy is her all-time favorite and is a weekly, if not bi-weekly meal. When her plate is clean and her belly full, she sits on her over sized sofa and watches her recorded soap operas. Before bed time Amiles eats a large bowl of ice cream covered in chocolate syrup and nuts. She figures the nuts are a healthy alternative to sugar sprinkles.
Amiles visits her Father every Sunday for a large dinner. Her relationship with her Dad grew strong when at the age of twelve when her Mother died of Anorexia. From that point on Amiles decided to never hold back what she eats. The only time she gets aggravated with her Father is when he makes remarks about their weight. She thinks to herself, I don't know what he is talking about. He is the size of a bus but I am as fit as a fiddle. One of these days I am going to tell him to quit calling me fat, even if it is in undertones.
On this fine morning, Amiles stands looking at herself over in the mirror and eats another chocolate chip cookie. Beads of sweat start forming on her forehead and neck as her complexion grows pale. Her legs give way beneath her and she falls to her knees, smacking her face on the mirror as she goes. Her left arm tightens and goes numb at the same time. She has the feeling that an elephant is sitting on her chest as she rolls over to sit on her butt. She leans her back against the mirror as the sweat is rolling into her eyes. As she takes her last breathe she looks through blurry eyes at the cookie still in her right hand. Her mammoth, over fed body sits lifeless against her mirror.
Two dead bodies sit back to back only separated by a thin piece of reflective glass. The two women knew each other well, although they had never actually met. In one world an anorexic woman holds eight tiny diet pills, and in another, a morbidly obese woman holds a chocolate chip cookie.

Love that Kills

The first thing I noticed about her was her hands, her white-as-porcelain hands that held her thin fingers. She had seen me looking at her and smiled, her naturally red lips opening to show her teeth. I smiled back, no move-star smile but a smile nonetheless. The teacher had told her to take a seat; she sat in the only seat left, right beside me, on my right. When she sat down I looked at her, past my long fringe, to watch her write. Her fingers curled around the pencil delicately. She was left-handed, my favorite. “Hi, I’m Angeline, my friends call me Angel though,” she said to me as she turned with her right hand outstretched. I grabbed her hand lightly, “I’m Luke, you can call me Luke,” I said as she giggled. She withdrew her lovely hand and went back to writing, brushing her black hair from her eyes with one hand before taking the pencil in hand.
She and I joked and laughed with each other, every day I wanted her more, only for me. Her lips curled into a smile each time she saw me, her special smile for me, only me. Angel had always waved with her ghostly white hands, perfectly clear and thin hands. Sometimes we would play and I could grab her hand, bend on one knee, and kiss her perfect hand, touching my lips to it softly. One day she had come in, her face tear-streaked and paler than usual. “Luke! My mother… she was… I t-though,” Angel burst into tears and ran into my arms, locking her arms around my neck. I was puzzled and hugged her back, rubbing her back softly. “What happened,” I had whispered to her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and took a step back. “My mom was walking home last night from her job and s-she was a-a-attacked. Some guy came up behind her and put a cloth over her mouth. A-and when she woke up she was handcuffed to a table or something. The guy cut off her hands off, once she woke up.” Angel said the last sentence differently; instead of saying it with fear and her shaking voice she had said it with hate and disgust.
I cringe, “Ew-I mean, I hope your mom’s alright… is she in the hospital?”
“Yeah, they say she’ll probably make it through this and be able to describe to us what the guy who did this looked like.”
“That’s good! I’m glad she’s fine, but… where are her hands?” I asked hesitantly.
“The sicko took them with him,” she said, her face was scrunched up into a frown.
She was my favorite. Angel. I loved her; I think I still love her. I can’t sort out my feelings right now, I’m so messed up. It’s all wrong right now.
Angel’s mother turned out to be fine and described the guy that attacked her. It turns out he goes to our school, after the police looked into the case farther, they realized that it wasn’t the first case of stolen hands in Zolot City, it was the eighth pair of hands cut off and all of the victims described the man who attacked them similarly. Her mother described him and shed a new light on the case, at least that’s what the news said. The reporter had exclaimed that the killer was a student at our school, our uniform not similar to any other. I was in my house when Angel called, her voice hysterical. “Luke! I think I’m next! The guy sent me a letter! He s-said, ‘Your hands are pretty, let me touch them.’ Luke, what should I-,” Angel’s voice cut off suddenly, her phone producing a noise similar to that of a dropping box. Then the phone clattered to the ground. I ran outside, and didn’t stop until I reached Angel’s house.
The police swarm around her house, I called them, to say that she was missing, about the letter, and the phone call I kept replaying in my jumbled head. I didn’t want it to turn out like this, with Angel I would have a different relationship, one that would last and I couldn’t ruin without dying inside. Somehow I managed to mess it all up.
***
A MONTH LATER
Angel was still missing, and I seemed like the mourning boyfriend who cried for her loss but still believed she would come back, though I know she wouldn’t. Angeline was with me, in my house. I carefully went into my house, and went down the stairs, into a large and dark room that is my basement. I could hear a quiet whimper, almost silent enough that it was only a breeze playing in my ears. I walked to the lit part of the room, standing in front of a girl, tied up and gagged. She looked up at me, her eyes widening and her head turning back and forth quickly, scared. “Sh! I’ve come to break you out, I found out you were here and had to get you out,” I whisper to her lying easily. I can see tears well up in her eyes and a smile break out on her face, a relieved expression now on her face. She looked happy as I went behind her and pretended to untie the ropes; I was really grabbing a large knife on the table behind her.
I dropped the knife heavily on the wooden board her hands were handcuffed to. I looked her in the eyes, “Angel, I love your hands, they’re so perfect. Just let me touch them.”
Angeline’s face stops moving, her relived expression turning into one of horror, shock, and disbelief. I smile at her, not to her but at her. I love her. “I love you,” I told her and she shuddered. I let the knife stay in the wood, not letting the steel slide through her wrists just yet. My heart was beating loudly, and thumping so quickly. My lips touched Angel’s pale, slender fingers. A rush surged through my body as I disconnected Angel’s hands from her body. I hold them tenderly and put them in a jar filled to the brim with formalin, usually used to keep specimens alive. My fingers used to the routine, screw the lid on the jar and set the jar on a high shelf. This shelf has eight other jars with beautiful hands in them and my heart flutters as I look at them. I spin on my heels to face Angel.
The wooden board is soaked with her blood; the screaming that she produced has stopped. Her head had flopped forward when she passed out from the pain. She used to be so perfect, but now I can’t see the beauty that was once there.
***
I know that months later I would be going into the basement filled with my treasures daily. I know this because that’s what I’m doing now.
I slowly go down the creaky stairs, creep toward the lit portion of the room, and kneel in front of Angel. Her eyes are closed, forever, and her body is shriveled up. I rub my hand on her cheek before bringing her hands-in-the-jar in front of me. “I love you so much Angel. Do you know how much I love you?” And for the first time in years I cry, letting the salty drops run down my face and plop onto the reddish, wooden board. “I love you so much.”

House on Halloween Hill

All of the trick or treaters avoided the house on halloween hill. The owners were really scary and only ever came out at night. It started when a boy called Josh and his girlfriend were ghostbusting. Josh’s girlfriend dared him to go up to the house. So off he went up the hill. The owners had gone out for their midnight shopping. He went down the stairs to the basement and just as he got to the bottom, he heard the front door open. He hid in one of the boxes. He heard footsteps on the stairs. He opened the lid slightly and saw the woman open a fridge and take out a bottle of blood. She then went up the stairs and closed the door. He got out of the box he was hiding in and turned to look at it. To his horror there infront of him were two coffins. Before long he heard them again. Josh froze in shock. He had to hide but could not move. The door opened and in walked the owners. They saw Josh straight away. They grabbed him. He screamed. Josh was never seen again.

Party Haunting

This is what happened to me on a party when I was 9. I had my 2 cousins, my best friend and my best friend’s brother over at my house. We all went into the basement to start playing around. Then, my younger cousin starts screaming. We ask him what he saw and he says, “How many people do we have?” We respond 5 and he starts to cry. He says “someone rushed past you’re friend” to me. I look at my friend and he looks terrified. He says he felt cold down there. “I didn’t” I said. I and my friend go down. We hear strange noises from behind the storage room door. My friend who is 10 has the guts to open the door. As soon as he opened it he ran screaming “A ghost grabbed at me!” We all run up again. I stared in complete horror at my best friend’s face. He was smiling horribly, his eyebrows down like he was mad. I slap him, back to his senses. I see something; I don’t know what, like a figure run down to the basement. We all agree not to go down there again for the rest of the night.

The Rat

The night after his divorce, he could not sleep in the bedroom. He was sure the bedroom was full of spiders. Soft, wet spiders. Their feet were quieter than kisses. But kissing was not what they had in mind.
        In the end, he spread a blanket on the floor of the living room, and slept there. There was something comforting in a little spartan hardship. Self-punishment eased his soul and allowed him to slip into dreams.
        It was water which woke him.
        Water, dripping.
        Drip drop drop.
        The roof was leaking?
        No.
        It wasn't raining. Instead, the night was totally quiet. So quiet that he could hear the faint hiss of static in his ears. And the irregular water sounds coming from the bathroom.
        "Who's there?"
        After speaking, he felt foolish. Nobody's there. You're on your own. She won't be coming back. Anyway. Get up and turn off the tap.
        He walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. As usual, his laundry was soaking in the bathtub. Socks, underpants, business shirts, T-shirts. And something big and brown and mobile which he could not at first identify.
        It was a rat. A huge rat. Unable to climb the sheer enameled sides of the bathtub, unable to jump out because the water was too deep for it to find a footing, it was patiently swimming around and around, making very faint swimming sounds as it did so.
        It was going to jump. He was sure. Jump at his face. He grabbed a bath towel and hit it. Water slapped upwards and skidded through the air. Soon the towel was wet and heavy. A weapon. The rat was rolling in a mist of red. The red was dirty, contaminated by the filth of a rat. At last he realized that it was dead, and had been dead for some time.
        He made himself a cup of black coffee and drank it, slowly. He thought about phoning her, but did not. It was, after all, three o'clock in the morning.
        Despite the coffee, sleep came easily. After he got back to sleep, he dreamt of cockroach eggs. They were vividly orange, like flying fish roe. He poured boiling water over the eggs. No children, no. I refuse. As the boiling water spread, a huge swollen cockroach crept out from under the oven.
        "Daddy?" it said.
        He stepped on it. Its lacquered brown carapace broke beneath his foot. Then his face broke, and he wept.
        He was still weeping, helplessly, when he woke.

*
        Years later, he still remembered putting on gloves to handle the rat's corpse. The body had been stiff and heavy after floating for hours in the water. He remembered that very clearly. But he found he could not remember what he had done with the laundry. He certainly had not thrown anything away. He was not the kind of person who threw things away. Somehow, he must have recovered his clothes from their dilute bath of blood and excrement. Maybe he was wearing them now. Yes, maybe. His clothes always lasted longer than his relationships.