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Sitting on the edge of a cliff. Crashing waves below. Pounding against the rocks. Decaying stone stiff and strong. Water flowing in perfect sequence. Vibrating the ground.
It's lurking. It's waiting. It's watching. It's baiting. It's creeping. It's staring. It's stalking. It's glaring. It's thinking. It's moaning. It's whining. It's groaning. It's thirsty. It's scaring.
Eyes lids & pins, Piercing through the skin. A thread sewn. Stitch by stitch. Sewing the seams. Eyes begin to close. The tables switch. Masquerading an horrifically scenic show.
A little girl opened the door to her parents bedroom in the middle of the night. "Daddy, I had a bad dream" she said. Her father blinked his eyes and sat up in bed, leaning on his elbows.
Banging hard on the door of the upstairs flat, Ben blinked the sleep out of his eyes. They were so noisy, that in the last two weeks, he had around four hours sleep.
It hit him like a rock, there was nothing he could do, nowhere he could run, no one to hear him if he screamed. He knew it and so did the entity inside his room.
Shadows creeping. Drawing nearer. Walls seeping. We all fear her. Souls lost. Innocence spoiled. Windows frost. Carpets soiled. Every night. She brings us out. Edge of sight. Lingering doubt.
Tendrils of frost Steal over the ground Paths crisp with amber leaves Dew from early hours sets morning time.
Black clouds cover darkened skies, Overhead, the spirits fly, Mocking, taunting, in silent wait, This cursed dream is my soul's bait.
The winners are: @soniagoesrawr- her name is Sonia, @MisslittleDHP- her name is Kim and lastly but not at least rracmada- his name is called Adam.
From Shaun, This all started one very normal night. No clouds in sight and stars as far as the eye could see.
If you listen closely On moonlit verandas You'll hear us calling For loved ones we miss, We'll send the choppers To bring you to our arms, The ones we adore Please do come, we insist.
Chapter 1 The killing part 1 The following story was written by a detective whom, after analyzing video evidence, witness accounts, and the video claimed to have been watched, developed a story.
...The end was near now, I could tell. The spider was just inches from my face, clicking and burring as though talking.
One night, a 16-year old girl named Sarah was babysitting three children for the Peterson family. They always hired her because the kids really seemed to like her.
I couldn't believe it; I couldn't have picked a worse time to get lost in the forest. The terror of the black night was amplified by a low, unforgiving mist.
I started to follow the paw prints, walking rather than running as thoughts began springing into my head. Where had "It" gone. Why wasn't I dead already.
In my corner I can come to no harm. They can't get me here, There's no cause for alarm, I can get on with my papers In front of the fire And it's hypnotic, fiery Dance admire. Lo.
There, the battered musical box stood, on the dusty mahogany table. It plays you a tune, a haunting melody that seemingly, slowly rips your mind of its sanity.
"So Dan, where is it we're going exactly?" said Sandra, as she, Dan, and Bill zoomed by in Dan's old Pontiac." Sorry Sandra can't tell ya, but when we get there you'll be thanking me." said Dan.
Laying in bed when prayers have been said, the clock is ticking inside your head. As the lights go out you hear a shout but you're certain that no one is about.
Meet drown the clown. Don't mind the bloody frown. Or makeup smears. His the face you'll see in all your fears. With cold dead eyes. Not laughs but scared cries. Something hidden in big floppy feet.
A stone alter with scarlet blood flowing down the stones. A small girl with long black hair in an old Victorian night dress standing with a sacrificial dagger in her hand.
On the night of May 13 1996 Kyle Hawking experienced.. Something different... His reports have all been denied as he tried to give them to the press but I have found a..letter.