Jason Tandro's Spook-A-Thon

[Jason Tandro]

Yeah, my obsession with Halloween is something fierce, so for the month of October I am going to be having a few background events and such that occur on the boards. These minor events include Hang-Man games now have a Halloween Theme, Zombie Holocaust now has special events, etc...

But the main bulk of the Spook-A-Thon will be this thread. It's a multi-level Halloween Party. Now obviously there is a much more important event on October 19th (i wonder what that could be? ), and I don't want this to interfere (i like how I act as if it would, lol) so I won't have an event for the week of October 17-23, but barring that, here are the events for the weeks.

October 1st- October 9th=> Ghost Story Contest
Post the scariest ghost story you have ever read, or write one of your own!

October 10-October 16th=> Scariest Footage Contest
Post the scariest ghost footage you can find!

October 24-October 31st=> Costume Contest
Post up pictures of your Halloween Costume!

Yeah it's a little silly, but I really like the idea, so let's roll with it! Oh and we'll vote on the result of all three contests at the end of the month and the winner will get a prize... and more than just gems!
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Table of Contents

Ghost Stories:
Seventeen, Submitted by: Chicken
Untitled, Submitted by: SoulBlazerFan

Scary Footage:


Costume Pictures:

[chicken]

*imagine me with a deep, slow voice and a flashlight under my chin* ok fellas, grip your pillows tight cause this is the scariest shit you've ever heard. the story im going to tell you is called...
SEVENTEEN...

there once was a mother, who was an emergency nurse at the local hospital. her husband died shortly after she gave birth to her daughter, katie. katie was six years old and often alone because of her mother's job. her mom hated the fact that her little daughter needed to be alone so much but she couldnt afford the babysitter. so one day, when she had a day off, she went to a store, run by an old, shady man who sells stuff for almost nothing. lucky her, she found the sweetest doll she ever saw.
"she's an angel, right?", the old man said. "i see you need something for your own daughter. listen, i will give you this doll if you promise me not to leave her alone with the doll."
clearly, the man was crazy and katies mom took the doll. when she came home to katie, she hardly ever saw her daughter to be this happy. she really liked her present. "look mom, she can even speak!" but all she said was "seventeen...".
nevertheless, katie loved her doll and only played with her anymore. the next day, her mom had to leave her again but she didnt have a bad feeling about it anymore; katie had her doll.
when her mom came back home a few hours later, she couldnt find katie. she was looking everywhere, until she saw the blood trail on the floor. it was hard to see first, but it leaded into the cellar, where katie would never ever go. slowly and with pounding heart, she went down, always calling her name: "katie? ... katie?!" the trail of blood grew more and more visible, the deeper she went into the cellar. then, it leaded to a closet. with shaking hands, katies mom gripped the handles and slowly pulled the doors open, tears running from her face. a hardly audible "katie...?" comming from her mouth.
the picture inside the cabinet was hell itself. her daughter, glassy eyed, blood still dripping from her mouth, nailed to the back wall of the closet, describing a seven with her whole body: the head laid to the left, the middle of her neck described an unnatural right angle and her hands were stretched to either sides. beside her, in a pool of blood, her doll was sitting, a knife laying innocently beside it. without pulling the ring on its back, it said: "eighteen..."


[story behind the story: i heard that little piece you just read when i was like 7 or 8 at the scouts. at that time, it was like the creepiest thing i ever heard. the last time i told that story, i scared the SHIT out of friends of mine who were like 19 or 20 at that time. so if you go "meh, its not THAT creepy at all" the think about this: you have to IMAGINE the voice and the atmosphere a storyteller can put you in in RL. also, i had to translate it to english )

[Mantaray]

o_o that's a creepy story there... excellent

[Calgirl]

Z .

[SoulBlazerFan]

I don't have a title to this story. I don't because some stories don't need titles. Some stories may be too scary for titles.

It all started more than ten years ago. Me and my family moved into this house on Ocean Avenue. The house was a one story... it had one of those creepy windows that look out into the street from the attic just above the front door.

We moved in sometime during the late 90's. The house used to belong to our cousins, but they moved into a newer house as of then. I will tell you one thing, the house was a little run down- rotted wood floors, the outside seemed dirty... I remember the word my mother used was "rustic." I didn't know what it meant that, but I do now- it's another word for "crap-heap."

About a week into the house, I remember walking to school. Just outside our gate was a dead squirrel. I had guessed it must have fallen out of a tree, or out of the power lines from inside the house. But I'd seen dead squirrels before, but this was the first time I'd ever seen one so violently killed. It's skull cap had been broken, and what oozed from it was what looked like a brain- pink, ridged. I don't know why, but I felt something from behind me, and looked up to that window just above the front door- and it appeared, only for a second- that someone was there.

It was more than likely just nerves- I had moved into a new house which I didn't like, I was in a new school, being bullied- but that stayed with me for the entire day.

Weeks had passed, and I remember my dad had brought some friends over to tear up what would be my future bedroom floor. I remember there being gaping holes in the floor, and some foul stench that came up. It could be the time that passed, but if I remember correctly, no one else but the kids could smell it. Yeah, my parents couldn't, my dads friends couldn't. They accused me, being the oldest, of lying about it, because I "didn't like moving again." That may have been the case, but that doesn't stop that foul odor from being anymore real.

Back on track, there was a giant pile of old wood building in our backyard. Most of it was rotted to hell, filled with rusted or broken nails. Now, it wasn't until years later that I got the true story, but what happened was our father told us not to play on that pile of garbage wood, that it wasn't safe- and I'd always believed my brother did it just to be spiteful- but he climbed up there, stepped on the wrong spot (He wasn't wearing shoes) and got a rusted screw straight threw his foot. He ended up going to the hospital, had it removed, and had to get a tetnis shot just to be safe.

Now, years later we talked about it, and he told me he wasn't sure why he went up there- but things that would happen later made it all the more real- but he told me a little girl's voice was calling from inside the wood, asking for his help... he had thought it was one of our sisters. I had asked him why he never said anything, and he responded simply with, "I thought mom and dad would think I was crazy."

It was several months later during the summer. School was out, things had finally calmed down, and I was getting used to the new house. Now, mind you, me and my brother were twelve and eleven at the time, respectfully. As being brothers, we had fights, didn't get along very well, especially considering we both had vastly different personalities.

One day that stuck with me, we were both in our shared room. My brother, normally very talkative, wasn't being social that day. He spent most of the day to himself, seemingly miserable... I had no intention of getting involved myself, because we had just fought the day before, the cause long since lost in those missing and forgotten childhood memories. I tried to get him involved playing a video game- probably at that time Goldeneye or Zelda OOT... but he wouldn't be bothered.

I remember finally getting his attention. I think I insulted him or something, called him a buttface or something a kid that age would say, and I'll never forget as long as I live the look in his eyes- they seemed dead, gone. Maybe in my childhood imagination, I saw something that wasn't really there- but to me, it seemed like he wasn't my brother- but something else entirely. I went to get up, and he stood up. His blankness became rage. He started to chase me through the house. I raced to our backdoor, got out, and slammed it behind me- to give myself a few extra seconds. I was a bit more fit back then, and my brother slightly more bulkier. I got outside, and the next thing I know, I hear glass shattering.

I turn around, and I see my brothers arm. He had punched straight through a plate of glass that was on the backdoor. His arm stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, and I could see it was bleeding, and even had a piece of glass sticking into it.

Now, once again, it could be the years, it could be the child from back then, trying to make some sort of sense from it- but I didn't hear him scream for what seemed like a minute. The arm just stayed there, and finally slowly retracted back into the house. That was when the crying began. I remember standing outside, frozen.

That wood pile was still there and, I could have sworn, I heard a girl laughing from inside of it...

That was some of the last of the major things to happen. Other things, such as stuff falling over on it's own. One time in particular, writing on the wall, signed in my name appeared. It was my hand writing, and I swore up and down that it wasn't me, but I got blamed for it anyway. Getting chills, like there was someone watching you, but no one was there. To this day, none of my siblings would ever take credit for it.

One night I was asleep, and I had a dream. I've had vivid dreams before, imaginative dreams- about armies of skeletons chasing me, being in an all white toy store. Being chased through tunnels by giant men who look alot like Arnold and bleed black- but this one chilled me to the core. I had a dream of eyes in darkness. The were staring at me, as if to say, "I'm watching you." I had seen those eyes before. My brother's, when he punched through that window.

Some time went by, and things were quiet. It was wintertime, probably Mid-December. Outside in our rose bush, my I found another dead squirrel. It had fallen at some point, and cut his stomach open on the rose bush. But somehow, honest to got, it froze so quickly all of it's organs had stayed in tact in it's stomach. There wasn't any blookd visible, nothing leaked out. It was just strange. I remember looking back up at that attic window, thinking something was watching me- but nothing was there. I didn't even get a chilled feeling.

I finally got fed up, and decided on a plan. It was my sisters birthday, January 6th. She was having a birthday party at a McDonalds. My entire family was supposed to go. I couldn't because I had a high fever. My mom planned on staying behind, but I did my best to convince her to just go. It was only going to be for a few hours, two or three, and I would just be sleeping in the house anyway. She was rather apprehensive, but she did decide to go, made me promise not to get out of bed, and to make sure all the doors and windows were locked.

After they had left, I stayed in bed for awhile. I hadn't been left home alone before, and the house felt so creepy. Things creaked, the wind was blowing and making odd noises against the old house. The storm doors didn't lock, so they were opening and closing on their own, banging against the house.

The entire time, that attic had bothered me to no end. I wasn't exactly afraid of it... I was petrfied. What if something was up there? A monster? A ghost? My mother once spoke to me, and told me monsters didn't exist. She also said ghosts didn't. Ghosts were actually demons, who pretended to be real dead people, in order to fool people away from God. Now, I don't pretend to know either way- but that's not something I would ever tell an eleven year old- "Oh, don't worry about monsters or ghosts. They are just demons. Its not like they are anything worse."

All these thoughts ran through my head, and,even in my sickened state, I found that childhood curiosity, the need to know, too much to control. I got out of bed, and bundled up in a big jacket. I had to grab a chair to pull down the door for the attic. I began to ascend the stairs, thoughts of not monsters or ghosts but demons dancing in my head.

The change in temperature was drastic. I had never felt such cold- and the only thing I can compare it to now is the freezer we have at Target- which reads at 3 below zero. I felt the hairs in the nostrils freeze instantly. Even under the heavy jacket, I still shivered instensely. I went to reach for the light, and in my heart of hearts, it wasn't going to work. The door would close on it's own, a demon would come out after me, and I would die in this attic alone, frozen to death, probably eaten by some evil demonic creature.

Thankfully it did turn on, and probably saved my youthful sanity. I looked through the attic. It grounded me in a way. All this stuff up here was ours, not someone elses. An old air hockey table my dad got at a yard sale. My old my Buddy Doll, looking out at me from a black trash bag with dozens of other long forgotten toys, as if asking, "Wanna play?" Dust covered most of the things up there. With all this, the light being on, I realized there was nothing to fear. I went to leave the attic, and pulled the string to turn the light off.

The house wasn't haunted, there were no such things as demons, and all the odd occurences were just an old house and nature itself.

Just before I decended the stairs, I felt a chill on my neck, and the words "Hello, Rob."

I think what scares me the most is I don't know if it really happened. I was eleven, almost twelve mind you, with a 104 degree temperature and as sick as a dog. My mind wasn't necessarily in the right state, and hell, it may have been a lucid, extremely vivid dream. All I can tell you is, I've never gone into another attic since.

[Jason Tandro]

Damn, SBF. That's some creepy shit.

I guess I'll have to tell some of my family's creepy stories soon...

[chicken]

that was a long yet good story thank you for sharing

[Jason Tandro]

Okay to cap off this first week of the Spook-A-Thon allow me to share some of my stories. Pretty much everybody in my family has had creepy stuff happen to them.

Wallace

My brother Robert taught my entire family not to mess with Ouija Boards. His friend had gotten one of those cheap Matel knock-offs, but it didn't matter, it worked just the same.

One night when he was hanging out with some friends, they started playing with this. My brother joined in. They began contacting the spirit of somebody named Wallace.

Through the movement of the tile, it was revealed that he had been a previous resident of the house, but Wallace refused to share his fate with anybody.

It was at this point that Robert stepped away to go get something in the attic. The tile moved frantically saying: "Don't come up here. I'm here now."

Robert was freaked out, but he still had to go. The tile spelled out: "I like the dark and the quiet."

And then as Robert made it to the stairwell to the attic, he flipped the light. It lit for a split second and then the lightbulb shattered. My brother hasn't played with a Ouija Board since.



Jackson

A few years later my older sister Amity found herself in a similar situation with a Ouija Board, but learning from my brother's experience she refused to join along.

While her friends never learned the name of the entity with which they communicated, she (and they assume she was a she based on what was said) said a great deal about somebody named Jackson who was coming to claim her.

Then the entity said something very odd: "I want to talk to Emily."

There was no Emily in the room.

"She looks like Emily."

This freaked out Amity a lot, because before my parents decided to name her Amity, they were dead set on Emily.

Amity refused to join in and the entity continued. She said that there was a bridge that she was walking down. She said that she could see Jackson moving towards her slowly her. If they came they could stop Jackson from claiming her.

Amity didn't want to go, but she also didn't want to be left alone in the house. So they drove out to this bridge. As Amity describes it the moment they crossed that bridge every one of them felt an unseasonable chill run through them. They drove away from that bridge as fast as they could.

When they got back, the entity said that it had worked. "You stopped him."


I have to go for now but tomorrow night I'll share a few more stories. To be clear I do not believe in ghosts, I believe that these encounters with the paranormal are demonic activity, and I do not mess around with demons.

[Jason Tandro]

Okay... never got around to posting up that one other tale, but it wasn't as creepy anyways. This week, it's all about scary footage. Find whatever you can.

Personally this footage always freaks me out.

I have recently found out exactly how the fake was done, but it's still creepy.

[Jason Tandro]

Okay so not much in the way of creepy footage. But The Spook-A-Thon lives on! This is the final week so let's see your halloween costumes! I'll be posting mine up soon.