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myers101 Report | 08/23/2008 4:38 am

hey

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:18 am

[align=center][img]http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d42/Fayt_Uzumaki/Part 2/10ehrm9.gif[/img][img]http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d42/Fayt_Uzumaki/Part 2/15yhphy.jpg[/img]


[u][size=9][color=steelblue]Taken from scary stories to tell in the dark, i was scared of Scarecrows after this. ;___;





When it got hot in the valley, Thomas and Alfred drove their cows up to a cool, green pasture in the mountains to graze. Usually they stayed there with the cows for two months. Then they brought them down to the valley again.


The work was easy enough, but, oh, it was boring. All day the two men tended their cows. At night they went back to the tiny hut where they lived. They ate supper and worked in the garden and went to sleep. It was always the same.


Then Thomas had an idea that changed everything. "Let's make a doll the size of a man," he said. "It would be fun to make, and we could put it in the garden to scare away the birds."


"It should look like Harold," Alfred said. Harold was a farmer they both hated. They made the doll out of old sacks stuffed with straw. They gave it a pointy nose like Harold's and tiny eyes like his. Then they added dark hair and a twisted frown. Of course they also gave it Harold's name.


Each morning on their way to the pasture, they tied Harold to a pole in the garden to scare away the birds. Each night they brought him inside so that he wouldn't get ruined if it rained.


When they were feeling playful, they would talk to him. One of them might say, "How are the vegetables growing today, Harold?" Then the other, making believe he was Harold, would answer in a crazy voice, "Very slowly." They both would laugh, but not Harold.


Whenever something went wrong, they took it out on Harold. They would curse at him, even kick him or punch him. Sometimes one of them would take the food they were eating (which they both were sick of) and smear it on the doll's face. "How do you like that stew, Harold?" he would ask. "Well, you'd better eat it - or else." Then the two men would howl with laughter.


One night, after Thomas had wiped Harold's face with food, Harold grunted.


"Did you hear that?" Alfred asked.


"It was Harold," Thomas said. "I was watching him when it happened. I can't believe it."


"How could he grunt?" Alfred asked. "He's just a sack of straw. It's not possible."


"Let's throw him in the fire," said Thomas, "and that will be that."


"Let's not do anything stupid," said Alfred. "We don't know what's going on. When we move the cows down, we'll leave him behind. For now, let's just keep an eye on him."


So they left Harold sitting in a corner of the hut. They didn't talk to him or take him outside anymore. Now and then the dolled grunted, but that was all. After a few days they decided there was nothing to be afraid of. Maybe a mouse or some insected had gotten inside Harold and were making those sounds.


So Thomas and Alfred went back to their old ways. Each morning they put Harold out in the garden, and each night they brought him back into the hut. When they felt playful, they joked with him. When they felt mean, they treated him as badly as ever.


Then one night Alfred noticed something that frightened him. "Harold is growing," he said.


"I was thinking the same thing," Thomas said.


"Maybe it's just our imagination," Alfred replied. "We have been up here on this mountain too long."


The next morning, while they were eating, Harold stood up and walked out of the hut. He climbed up on the roof and trotted back and forth, like a horse on its hind legs. All day and all night long he trotted like that.


In the morning Harold climbed down and stood in a far corner of the pasture. The men had no idea what he would do next. They were afraid.


They decided to take the cows down into the valley that same day. When they left, Harold was nowhere in sight. They felt as if they had escaped a great danger and began joking and singing. But when they had gone only a mile or two, they realized they had forgotte

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:16 am

There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, which is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase.

The case is filled with unmarked books, bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood.

However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out. The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape, is to douse the light.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:15 am

A twist on the babysitter classic? It kind of reminds of a story i heard in Elementry School.

A teenage baby-sitter put the kids she was watching to sleep in their beds and went back downstairs. The late night news was on the TV -- the reporter said a psychopath from a local mental institution was on the loose and that police thought he might be in the area. He cautioned residents to lock their doors and windows because this guy was very, very dangerous. Well, the teenager checked the locks on the windows and the doors, but she forgot the door on the cellar bulkhead. Needless to say, the psychopath broke in about an hour later, coming up from the cellar, armed with an ax. The children heard some noises downstairs, but thought it was the baby-sitter moving some furniture around. Then it got real quiet. All they heard for the remainder of the night was this noise: "Thump! Thump! Dra-aag... Thump! Thump! Dra-aag..." Evidently, they were too afraid to get up to see what it was. In the morning, their parents came home and were horrified to find the babysitter at the top of the stairs, dead with both arms hacked off at the elbows. She'd been climbing the stairs on the bloody stumps of her arms, pulling her badly injured body along. Was she trying to check on the children? Was she trying to get help? Or in the madness of her tortured soul, was she planning to kill the children herself?

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:13 am

In any city, in any country, go to any mental instituion or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls themself "The Holder of the End". Should a look of child-like fear come over the workers face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to themselves echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.

Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you've escaped.

If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. What happens when they all come together?

The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifiying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, a few end they're lives. But most do the worst thing and look upon the object in the person's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned, if you do your death will be that of cruelity and unrelenting horror.

Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.

That object is 1 of 2538. They must never come together. Never.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:12 am

A laundress, newly moved to Charleston following the Civil War, found herself awakened at the stroke of twelve each night by the rumble of heavy wheels passing in the street. But she lived on a dead end street, and had no explanation for the noise. Her husband would not allow her to look out the window when she heard the sounds, telling her to leave well enough alone. Finally, she asked the woman who washed at the tub next to hers. The woman said: "What you are hearing is the Army of the Dead. They are Confederate soldiers who died in hospital without knowing that the war was over. Each night, they rise from their graves and go to reinforce Lee in Virginia to strengthen the weakened Southern forces."
The next night, the laundress slipped out of bed to watch the Army of the Dead pass. She stood spell-bound by the window as a Gray fog rolled passed. Within the fog, she could see the shapes of horses, and could hear gruff human voices and the rumble of canons being dragged through the street, followed by the sound of marching feet. Foot soldiers, horsemen, ambulances, wagons and canons passed before her eyes, all shrouded in Gray. After what seemed like hours, she heard a far off bugle blast, and then silence. When the laundress came out of her daze, she found one of her arms was paralyzed. She has never done a full days washing since.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:11 am

In 1653, Spanish explorers found the ruins of what appeared to be a Mesoamerican step pyramid in what is modern South Carolina. Though the site was far beyond the borders of any known American indigenous populations, it was also of a smaller size than existing Mesoamerican structures and bore an unrecognized form of glyphic decoration. Local natives were familiar with the stucture but knew nothing about it. The Spaniards sought to disassemble the building as a heathen relic and did so, brick by brick, salvaging the materials to construct their own nearby settlement. Deconstruction halted, however, when one brick was uncovered at the core of the structure, carved entirely of black glass. The stone, approximately two feet by three, was impossible to move or even budge by any man or animal. Attempts were made to dig the stone out from beneath, but excavation revealed that it extended indefinitely into the earth. In frustration, the captain of the explorers fired a glancing blow off of the surface of the stone. The obsidian block was undamaged, but moments after the blow had struck, it silently retracted downwards, sliding downward into a hole that quickly collapsed inward on itself, burying the retreating obsidian column. The Spaniards interpreted this as an evil omen and abandoned the site, never to return.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:10 am

It was about an old lady who was blind who only lived with her guide dog in her house, and her son would come visit her every now and then to see how she was doing..

Any way, yeah, every night when she'd go to bed, her dog would lick her hand while she went to sleep. One of these nights she went to bed, and left her hand hanging out so her dog would lick her hand, and as usual it did. But this night she could hear dripping from the bathroom. So the next day she asked her son to come over and check for any leaks from anything in the bathroom.

He came over later, and went in the bathroom to check for the dripping sound, only to find the dog's decapitated head stuck above the shower, dripping blood onto the tiles below. The dog had been dead for well over a day.

whee The whole time, someone had been spying on her every night for quite some time, then came into her house that night, killed her dog, and he was the one who was licking her hand.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:09 am

In winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee.

The medic made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never this short on supplies.

The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark hours of the morning - New Year's Day, 1945.

The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, with no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood.

The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial.

None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.

Himawari Shinigami Report | 05/03/2008 9:07 am

In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbours called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.