The Boy and the ClownThe voice speaks to himThe Boy and the Clown6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
The poor little kid
It's cursed him forever
Of it he'll never be rid
The voice comes from his doll
His Fella plushy
That's dressed as a clown
With a smile of insanity
It speaks to the child
Tells him to do horrid things
On Halloween night
Terror it brings
The Fella turned to him
Saying its time to kill
Instructing the boy
That his family's blood he will spill
The boy begged for mercy
But the doll told him no
Said there was evil inside him
And its time for it to show
The boy asked sadly
Will this set me free?
The clown faced Fella laughed
And said maybe we'll see
So the boy picked up his blade
he held it tight
as he snuck behind his father
Stabbing with all his might
Then he found his brother
With time to spare
The brother's scream was silenced
As the knife cut through the air
His boy was doing just fine
At this rate
They'd all be dead in no time
In the corner he hid
The darkness he did sit
And when his mother walked by
He cut her up bit by bit
Scream and dreamTrick or Treat I hear them screamScream and dream6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
Eyes emitting a monstrous gleam
Imagining all that lay ahead
Toil and Trouble and full of dread
Dressed in costumes filled with fright
Ghouls and witches roam the night
Fella stalks the streets so dark
Enjoying Hallows ritual lark
Hiding behind every tree
Yelling BOO to all that see
His costume made of blood and bone
A mask unique that was his own
A cackled laugh and eerie sound
of words he spoke to children found
With bags of candy in their grasp
Dropping all to hear his rasp
Trick or Treat its time for bed
To eat some candy and rest your head
Toil and trouble screech and scream
Tonight was only just a dream
A Haunting ReflectionAt first, I thought it was just a trick, some cosmic joke set up by my friends. That would be the logical solution. Any minute, I would turn around and see Fella dressed in one of those screamer costumes. The one with the plastic masks and a pump built into the sleeve so one can make blood drip down their face. At least, that's what I was hoping.A Haunting Reflection6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
Then, I decided that wasn't possible. Everything in the house was flipped, like I was looking at a mirror version of it. I kept hearing noises and voices, a worried man and a distraught woman. Maybe I was just being haunted by a ghost. It wasn't logical but it was possible. I believed in that kind of stuff. And it could be easily dealt with by an exorcism or maybe I had to cross them over, like life had been turned into some messed up version of Ghost Whisperer.
A haunting would have been too simple though. I realized that as I walked in my bathroom and looked into the mirror. Everything was right in the mirror, the way it should have been. Ex
A Monster - Changed Forever A scream pierced through the night.A Monster - Changed Forever6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
He was a monster.
It terrified the poor creature.
It was just as he thought; just what he had hoped wouldn't be so.
His reflection it was no longer normal.
Blood trailed down the sides of his mouth and dropped gently to the floor.
Fresh PaintCrimson paint, dripping, flowing,Fresh Paint6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
Shone with light of red eyes glowing,
Paints a haunted canvas near
The corpse of someone you hold dear
Each horrid stroke is trademark of
A disembodied, blood-stained glove
Its master working late at night,
To bring you gifts of death and fright
Glowing of an aura blue,
The ghostly painter grins at you
Locked within his gruesome stare,
You're helpless to escape his lair
Tattered beret upon his head,
The floating phantom reeks of dead
A threadbare smock, aged and soiled,
Reveals how his victims toiled
For when this fearsome ghoul's in need,
He simply makes his prisoners bleed
He'll drain their rich and ruby hue,
And refresh his cursed palette anew
As he reaches for his knife,
You feel your carcass drain of life,
How did this grave doom come to be?
Long ago, one night, on Hallow's Eve
Clad as a well-known artist deceased,
Poor Fella becomes the demon's release
For, affronted by the masquerade,
The soul decides to make a trade
There's Scissors in My ThroatIt was the night of Halloween,There's Scissors in My Throat6 years ago in Spooky Stories More Like This
A night loved by most,
A night to get candy, hang with friends,
And perhaps see a ghost.
The moon was out
And the wind sent out a chill.
Two girls were walking by,
One with a mind that could kill.
"Worst Halloween ever," Amanda said,
Holding her jester dressed fella doll.
"Why do you say that?" Jesse asked,
The weight of her candy ready to make her fall.
"It's cold, I'm tired, And this is boring.
No one is out and there's no one around.
The night is starting to creep me out-."
Amanda paused. "Hey, what's that sound?"
Jesse looked back and then grinned.
"Maybe it's the ghost of Anna Croat.
They say she comes out on Halloween,
And shoves scissors down your throat."
Amanda clutched her fella tighter.
"Stop trying to scare me,
You know I freak out easily."
The breeze only grew stronger,
The sharp wind ripped through their hair.
Amanda grabbed her arms as she shivered,
Whispers in the wind giving her a bit of a scare.
"Let's just go home," Jesse said at last,