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The Elevator

September 11, 2015 at 12:00 AM
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Rating: 7.5/10 (89 votes cast)

Ethan Crumbski sipped at his piping hot coffee, strolling into his office. Placing down his cup, he set to work instantaneously. His co-workers know of his seriousness for getting papers done and handed in on time, so they rarely spoke with him. Ethan didn’t mind one bit.

Scrolling down the document he worked on for the past three nights, the brunette man’s florescent blue eyes dashed across each line, revising his work, making sure there were no mistakes. Satisfied with finding no such mistake, he printed the sheets out, quickly standing to retrieve them.

As he hurriedly went to the printer, waiting for the seventeen pages, Ethan’s ear picked up a certain conversation voiced by one of the security guards he knows works the late night shift as well as the owner of the company he works for.

“Another one, last night.” The night guard quietly stated. The boss was silent, grumbling at the confusing news for Ethan. “It was a different time like how the others are. I just don’t understand why they use it. There is an obvious sign on the doors specifically saying it’s out of use.”

“Wish I knew the reason behind it as well, Carson.” The night guard was silent as Ethan picked up his papers. “Keep up the good work.” Ethan moved away, back to his office to finish his hand in.

Ethan’s job is creating ideas for advertisement. He has been in this company for a few years, excelling faster than his co-workers. Over the years working here, Carson has been the night guard but frequents the boss’s office in the day to hand in reports on some nights. The brunette had witnessed this many a time but brushed it off. This month he couldn’t easily shove it to the side.

Being a great observer with the way his personality is, he has noticed over the month a lot of people missing. There was Heidi, who worked at the desk across his office door. She usually pestered him about going to lunch and chatting, not refusing to back down though he rejected her as nicely he could. She worked here for only five months, then she disappeared without saying anything to anyone. He remembered her mentioning something similar, how people were missing from the company. He paid no mind to it until his memory came back of all the people who used to be here. Kade, Will, Jessie, Becca, Ricky, Gene, Clark, Mallory, Avery, Dennis, Florence, and Owen. They didn’t have a thing in common, that he knew. Never saw all of them together. But then, he didn’t know anyone since he kept to himself.

People were missing. He wondered who had gone missing this time. Figuring he would find out soon, he finished up his morning work and headed out for lunch.

Returning from his meal, Ethan passed by Heidi’s old desk, glancing at the new name plaque on it. Sarah Fredricks, it read. He hummed to himself as he walked into his office, leaving the door open for once. He would watch Sarah for a while when he could, not thinking he could be dubbed a creep. The woman didn’t notice at all, too busy typing away as she chatted with her desk neighbor, Robert Stans.

Rob was a comical guy. Ethan overheard many conversations with him dropping jokes at the correct times. If memory served correctly for the brunette, Robert worked just as many years as Ethan. He wasn’t so sure. Pushing his thoughts away, he began writing another advertisement campaign.

Night soon came and Ethan compiled his gear together. He was ready to leave within seven minutes. Briskly walking to the elevators, he noticed one out of the four holding a sign. “Out of Order.” He read aloud. The morning talk between Carson and their boss came back to the front of his mind. Could this be what they were talking about? Now that he thought of it, its been out of order for nearly four years now. He wondered why no one would try to fix it. Shrugging it off, he went to the last elevator on the right and descended down to the lobby floor.


The next morning he came in earlier than he was supposed to. He noticed Carson packed up and ready to head out but stopped him before he could reach the entrance doors.

Carson blinked, surprised that Ethan came up to him. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Crumbski?”

Ethan stared at him, analyzing him to see if anything like what supposedly happened yesterday night occurred again. He couldn’t find anything. “No. Nothing’s wrong.” The guard nodded, standing awkwardly as he stared at the other. “Do you remember a woman by the name of Heidi Sinclair? Her desk is where Sarah Fredricks now resides.”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Florescent blue eyes scanned him over again.

“Do you know what happened to her?”

At this question, Carson paled, lips sealed tight in thought. Ethan instantly picked up on his reaction and continued to wait for a reply. “I-I do not, sadly. She was a sweet woman, though. Bright as well.”

Ethan nodded, agreeing. “’Was’ as in because she is no longer working here, or ‘was’ as in she has possibly passed on?”

The security guard’s complexion worsened. “Have a good day, Mr. Crumbski.” He nodded a goodbye and dashed out of the doors.

He found that strange, but one question was nearly answered. What ever happened to Heidi, she was either gone and somewhere else in the world, or gone for good. His long legs quickly made way for the elevators. Ethan checked the far left one and saw the sign was there as well. An urge to use that elevator rose within him, but he opted for the one he usually uses.

Ethan walked onto his floor, the top most floor of this seventy story building, and gazed at all the desks. He went around, remembering exactly where all the past co-workers sat and hung around. Kade sat next to Mallory who always talked with Gene across from her. There was a time where the young woman didn’t show up to work one day, which turned into weeks, then months. He realized years had past since he last saw Mallory. Gene never talked much once Mallory went missing.

Heidi was the first one he remembered coming to him and asking about the other workers who hadn’t showed for a while. She was there when Avery was. They were good friends. Her worry for her exceeded the limits when she asked around about her.

“I’ve been asking around about Avery, but no one remembers her! How can that be? Please tell me you remember her, Ethan.” She sounded desperate as she stared at him, pleading for him to say he did remember. He didn’t.

The next thing he knew, Heidi was gone. It was only two days after she went around the floor asking about Avery. Questions revolved around his mind, now, wondering what happened, if the same thing occurred to Heidi.

Sitting at his desk, he turned on his computer and decided to research on the missing people he remembered. Time passed with his research. People started coming in, not giving him any attention as usual. Though, the out burst form his room shocked many near by. Ethan was furious. He couldn’t find anything on any one person he knew before in this building.

A knock shocked him out of his thought process. It was Sarah. “Are you okay, Mr. Crumbski?” She asked, concerned.

He started at the woman. She fidgeted in her spot. “Yes I am, Miss Fredricks. Sorry to have bothered you.” He closed out of the browser, deciding it was best to leave it alone and get some work done. Sarah only shook her head saying she wasn’t bothered, only concerned. He merely passed by her as he left his room for the boss’ office.

The hefty man sat at his computer, eating a donut, not expecting Ethan to walk in and sit in front of him. With a raised brow, he asked, “Yes, Mr. Crumbski?”

“I was wondering about Miss Heidi Fisher. Do you remember who she is?” Blunt and straight to the point, Ethan stoically gazing at Mr. Hyden.

Mr. Hyden’s brows knitted together, unsure of the name though he felt he heard it before. “I do not. Is she your girlfriend?” The old man grinned. “’Bout time you got one.” He joked.

Shaking his head, Ethan spoke, “No, she isn’t. She used to work here. I was just wondering if you knew where she went.”

“Oh, well then. I do not remember any employee with that name, and I remember all the employees I’ve hired.” The man boasted about his memory only for Ethan to mentally disagree.

“Okay.” He stood, knowing full well the man didn’t remember anyone who had gone missing. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hyden.” Ethan left without looking back. He didn’t need to.

His research continued though he knew it was futile. He kept searching for the names with a specific picture attached to them. No such luck. Ethan wasn’t one to give up though. He kept at it for days. At home. During free time at work. On his phone on breaks. He was so busy looking things up that when he returned from his lunch break, he didn’t realize he got off the wrong floor.

Ethan strolled around, eyes on his cell, until a worker came up to him. “Mr. Crumbski! So nice of you to visit our floor.” He blinked, looking up and seeing a fellow acquaintance of Heidi’s. He remembered the man used to go out with Heidi in place of him when he rejected her. “My name’s Tom.” He continued speaking. “I know you don’t know me, but, well, I know you because a friend of mine was obsessed with you.” He chuckled. “She was sort of loony, but I still liked being with her. Sad she’s gone though. Don’t know what happened to her.” He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, mulling over his lost friend.

The brunette didn’t hesitate to ask. “Who was your friend?”

“I don’t remember.” Tom hummed. “She had shoulder length blonde hair, though, and fetching green eyes. I feel bad not remembering her name.”

“Could it have been Heidi?”

Thinking about it, Tom nodded. “That sounds about right, but… I don’t know…” He shrugged. “Wish I could remember.” Glancing behind himself, he smiled. “I need to get back to work. Nice chatting with you, Ethan!”

He watched as the energetic man fled to his work desk. He stared, wondering if it wasn’t just his floor that people were missing on. As more questions popped up into his head, he went back to the elevator.

The next few days, he spent some time on other floors. He randomly approached people and asked them if they had noticed anyone missing from their floor. Out of the bunch he questioned, only a hand full could say they remembered descriptions but not names. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall slowly into place, but the main question still needs to be answered.

Carson avoided him at all costs since Ethan made the habit of arriving when his shift ended. The brunette took every chance he could get to confront the man that knew more than he would tell, but each try failed. One day, though, he went towards the out of order elevator, about to press the button.

“Don’t go on that elevator!” Ethan turned around, wide eyed. Carson’s face was full of panic. “Whatever you do, don’t go on that elevator. It’s dangerous, and not just because it’s out of order.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at that. “Is there something about this elevator only you know about, Carson?” The security guard froze. “I’ve been doing my research on the people I know who are no longer here. There are no-”

“You shouldn’t do that.” Carson interrupted. “You should just forget about it all. Forget about them. It’s safer that way for you.”


“Just…believe me, Mr. Crumbski.” He sighed. “You’re a really great man. It would be a shame for you to wind up like them.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed at him. “Shit, I said too much already.” He skedaddled as fast he could. Ethan cursed under his breath, taking one last look at the elevator for that morning, and going to his regular one.

This night was a late night for Ethan. With his mind on researching the missing people, he strayed behind on work. The entire day he did project after project, trying to get all of his work done so he wouldn’t need to stress about it. When he was finished, he packed up all his work, neatly set everything on his desk for tomorrow, grabbed his coat, and walked to the elevators. He instantly noticed something different.

The far left elevator no longer had it’s sign. Curious, he walked over to see if it fell down since it was taped up. He couldn’t find it. Humming to himself as he stroked his chin, he didn’t expect the doors to open. He jumped at the sudden beep of the elevator, signaling it’s arrival. He peered in once they were fully open, the slowly crept in.

From the looks of it, it was an ordinary elevator with a different interior design. He complemented the maker, but then soon found and odd indentation on the metal wall. Two steps closer he took to further examine it. There were four long streaks of what could be called fingers. The palm, a oval big c underneath the streaks. It was too big to be a human hand, that’s for sure, so what could have made this? He reached out to finger the indentation only to jump as the doors closed with that same, eerie ding. Ethan tried to get out before they could fully close; he didn’t make it.

Sighing, he leaned against the wall after pressing the circle button for the first floor. He waited for what he knew would be a few long minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The ride was slow and relaxing. He closed his eyes only to open them back up when the elevator lurched to a stop. Furrowing his brows, he looked at the floor number. It said 66. He looked down at the buttons to press the first floor again, but soon saw that the 6th floor button was lit up. Ethan isn’t a religious man, but that doesn’t mean he knows that devilish things are out there.

He backed away from the panel of buttons into the metal wall. The feeling he felt as he looked at the numbers wasn’t good. Waiting for the elevator to continue its descent, he stood there, staring. It wouldn’t move. He began to worry. What was going to happen to him? He knew he didn’t live a fascinating life, but he got by fine. What could be the connection with this elevator?

A sudden memory that was a year ago popped up. He had brought up this elevator, asking why it was never repaired or taken out. The group he asked was surprised to hear his speak, but speculated as well. Guesses were thrown out here and there, but one struck him.

“I heard that elevator was torn out of the building before, but wound up being put back for unknown reasons. The repair men also wouldn’t go near it. Maybe it’s cursed or something.” The group laughed, but Ethan thought on it.

It made sense to him now. If the elevator was cursed, what was the curse on it?

Ethan’s ears twitched as the elevator speaker turned on, static flowing out. It was just a buzzing sound at first, but then became an uproar. He covered his ears, shielding them as best he could. He picked up two words, though, even with his ears clogged.

“Going down.” The spoken voice sounded gravelly, like the person lost his voice box but still spoke. Very hoarsely. Ethan shivered.

The elevator soon began to move again, slowly at first, soon accelerating. The brunette gripped the bars for his life, only to be pushed off into the middle of the floor. He glanced behind himself, eyes widening the instant he saw what pushed him.

A creature. Black foggy appearance with a red outer line to it. It’s hands were huge, the same size as the indent on the other wall. It loomed over the scared man, showing a red grin with yellow glowing teeth.

“Last stop.” The speaker said with the same voice.

Ethan trembled on the floor, backing away as far he could. The creature followed him, placing its hand in the same spot as the indent. The terrified man now understood what happened to the other people that went missing. They went through the same fate he was going to end with. The only question he wanted an answer to now was: Why these specific people who are instantly forgotten?

He clenched his eyes shut, ready for his death. Only, it didn’t come. He was too afraid to open them, but did once the elevator fell off its tracks. He slammed against the ceiling. His skin rippled with the force of air against him, close to tearing thin sheets of it off. The pain was unbearable. Ethan wished for this to stop, for him to get off and go home. No such luck would come to him. The creature materialized through the elevator and engulfed him.


The next day, Carson, pale as a sheet of paper, went to Mr. Hyden for another report. He stood at the door, wringing his hat. The boss took one look at him and knew instantly that it happened again. A fist pounded his desk. He was livid, but didn’t know why. He couldn’t remember who the person was the name Carson spoke of belonged to.

Sarah Fredricks peered into the empty office of the previous employee who worked in it, wondering what could have happened to him. Knowing that he never missed work, she frowned, worried about him. As she went back to her desk, she slowly sat down. Thinking it over, she knew something was wrong. Ethan Crumbski. Who was that again?

Credit To – ChamirianBels

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Campus Alert

September 7, 2015 at 12:00 PM
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Rating: 6.9/10 (90 votes cast)

This is a short film I wrote, directed, edited, and created special fx for. Campus Alert follows a student on campus who is stalked by a strange masked man at night while the campus is on high alert due to incidences of assaults and muggings. Terror ensues for all parties involved. I like to thinks of it as a slasher film with a fun twist!

But for those interested, I’d like to talk a little bit about the inspiration for it. I had the idea for setting a horror film on a college campus for a while. I have a slight case of insomnia from time to time so sometimes when I’m up all night I’ll get the urge to go outside and go on walks. While living at my school’s dorms, I’d go on these walks on campus at weird hours. Not to mention the school’s library is opened pretty late most weekdays, usually to 1 and sometimes even 2 AM. The whole scope of that setting at night, with all the open space and empty buildings, you get a real sense of aloneness. Not to mention when you are alone, you get weird vibes whenever you come across other people like you who wander around at weird hours. You’re not sure if the person is a potential threat. On one of my late night walks, I remember someone with a foreign accent yelling across a parking lot at me “Am I safe?” from afar when he noticed me. And even though I would walk about at weird hours, I never actually ever felt unsafe. After all, I was living in Salt Lake City which was one of the whitest, safest cities around for the most part. Especially in the area of the University.

So for a while I thought about possibly doing a horror film about a female student being stalked by a masked man, basically Halloween set on a college campus. But I could never really come up with any ideas on how to develop it further, until a while back students at the University were receiving “campus alert” notifications about two assaults that happened on campus within a short period of time and warned students about being careful when walking at night. Which I guess made me underestimate the safety of college campuses in the area as an adult male. This eventually lead to the idea that this college set slasher film should be set on a campus that is on high alert because this thing has been happening a lot at night. To a point that masked killers roam freely at night, which a lot of friends of mine who have seen the film reminded them of The Purge.

And even though I love slasher films like Halloween and Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I’ve never really been all that interested in creating a film that focused entirely on a damsel in distress scenario. Eventually that lead to an idea which I don’t want to spoil too much, but there are a few twists and turns within the 8 minutes. Kind of akin to films like The World’s End, From Dusk till Dawn, and the Anna Paquin short in Trick r Treat. Basically this is a fictional college campus where a lot of crazy **** happens after dark.

I also love old school horror films such as The Evil Dead and I used this as a chance to do some practical gore fx, all done in camera and nothing digital. This is not just meant to be scary, but also fun and for fans of more old school horror flicks.

Hope you enjoy.

Campus Alert

Credit To – Brendan Morrisey

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Rating: 6.9/10 (90 votes cast)


September 3, 2015 at 12:00 AM
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Rating: 8.0/10 (151 votes cast)

Gavin slid the back panel of his digital recorder open and gently placed two small batteries into the matching slots. Clicking the plastic back into place he pushed the power button and the electronic screen blinked alive, emanating with a pale blue light that brightened the dark night air around his hand. Gazing up into the brisk autumn night sky Gavin was amazed at how much the colossal structure in front of him blocked out the twinkling stars like a gaping black void consuming the essence of the universe around it.

He knew that this night was special. In the local town of Rittleberg the elders spoke of this night in whispers and warned their children not to venture near the asylum past dusk. Any traveler who questioned the locals about the asylum and the date of October 14, 1964 was met with a flurry of urges to keep their distance. The only shred of information they would divulge is that what had happened at the asylum was so terrible that it had permanently scarred the surrounding area. Gavin had received these warnings and he had listened to the stories, but he was still determined to record the enigma that was Peirce Asylum.

Fumbling with his backpack Gavin pulled out a plastic flashlight and clicked it on. The bright beam created a cone of light that Gavin flashed over the tall arch of the structure in front of him, revealing an entrance doorway with lettering that spelled Pierce Asylum. Letting out a small sigh that warmed the air around his mouth turning into an ethereal mist Gavin shouldered his backpack and, with a determined stride, pushed the entrance door open and entered the building.

Gavin stood on the other side of the ancient doorway looking at a decaying entrance atrium. As he swung his flashlights beam across the room it lit up the columns of dust gradually floating to the ground from the rotten ceiling. Lowering the flashlights bright gaze, he revealed a reception desk covered in patient files and a layer of gray dust. Stepping over to the desk Gavin slowly dusted off one of the yellowing patient files. Most of the writing was illegible but what he could make out was a name, Dr. Riktoh. As he brought the paper closer to his face to try and decipher more a soft voice resonated out of the darkness, “You need to help!”

Dropping the paper he swung his flashlight around the room eager to confront the source of the intrusion. Now standing with his back to the desk Gavin stared into the darkness with a puzzled expression, there was nobody to be seen. He glanced down at the recorder in his hand and, confirming that it was still recording, started to turn back towards the desk. What he saw next both excited and stunned him

The first thing he noticed was the gentle odor of perfume weaving itself into his nostrils as if to beckon his attention. As if each sense was being tested, a barely audible “help” whispered its way into his ears. Then for a brief moment, there was an image of a nurse standing behind the reception desk. Gavin could make out every detail in this woman’s attire, the white blouse and a red sweater with worn elbows from a life of constant patient care. Her hair pinned into the traditional 60’s style bun with a wavy strand drifting into the front of her black framed glasses. What caught Gavin’s attention most though, was the unusual red stain in the midsection of her chest that seemed to glisten with the reflection of his flashlight bouncing off of it.

He blinked and she was gone, all that remained was her distinct image, photographed in his mind. For a brief minute he heard that soft voice again. His ears strained but all he could make out was a soft “help”. Furiously rubbing his eyes Gavin blinked and slowly let his eyes readjust to the dark space he was no staring at that had seemed to swallow a human being.

Still staring into this dark abyss Gavin’s mind continuously looped the memory of what had just happened to him. The image still clear in his mind, he seemed able to only focus on one aspect of this spectral woman. The glistening red stain on her chest, which Gavin now presumed to be blood. This apparition seemed to be in distress, calling out to him as if to urge him to assist in her escape of a torturous hell.

Kneeling down next to the manila patient file that he dropped Gavin extended his hand out and tenderly wrapped his fingers around the crinkling paper. The examination of this documentation had resulted in the phantom’s apparition so perhaps it would yield another clue to his spectral visitor’s distress, or her cryptic message.

Placing the flashlight firmly between his teeth, Gavin gingerly opened the manila folder and began to read the documents it contained. As he furiously read his eyes became wider and held a look of pure astonishment. The files referenced a patient, Miles Slander, who had been in the asylum’s care on the year of its closing. According to the file, Miles suffered from acute schizophrenia and was often lost in delusions of his own creation. His primary caretaker also had a reference in the file, including a picture and this is what had shocked Gavin. The picture, faded from age with torn edges, still clearly portrayed an image of the same nurse who had just moments before presented herself to Gavin. Her attire was exactly the same aside from a lack of the blotchy red stain in her chest.

Fumbling with the paper, Gavin began to read more about this nurse’s report on Mr. Slander’s. There were boxes checked off with a steady mark in pen, most notating the proper procedure of care such as medication distribution and hygiene care. Flipping the paper over to scan for more, Gavin discovered what seemed to be a note hastily scrawled on the rear. Clearly labeled for another nurse, perhaps a friend, the note read, “Janet he has gone too far this time! I have put aside my own emotions to assist Dr. Riktoh in his heinous studies into the human mind through experimental lobotomies and electroshock but I cannot, I will not, allow him to administer a patient in my care with the contents of that syringe. For the good of Miles and the asylum I have hidden the vials in the morgue, behind the first cadaver drawer, please if you still care for my wellbeing at all, retrieve it on your night shift for me so I can relay it to the authorities.”

This message was the clue Gavin needed, he now knew his next step in documenting the paranormal in Pierce Asylum. He was going to venture to the morgue where perhaps this nurse’s manifestation would once again appear. Placing the envelope in his backpack Gavin shouldered the bag and stood up. Returning the flashlight to his hand he flashed the beam behind the desk where he spotted a map of the asylum. Stepping closer he could see that the morgue was only down the hall and around the corner an easy walk that would only take moments.

Practically vibrating with excitement Gavin turned and stepped away from the map. He shone his flashlight down the hallway and grinned to himself. This was the break he was waiting for. Suddenly his bright, guiding flashlight beam flickered and then disappeared. Gavin shook the flashlight, there was no way the batteries could be dead he had just replaced them. Suddenly Gavin began to get an unsteady feeling as an aroma of sulfur reached his nostrils. Looking up from his flashlight Gavin noticed a strange anomaly beginning to form in the darkness in front of him.

The black, consuming darkness seemed to be twitching and coming alive. Gavin stood still, his feet seemed to be rooted to the floor, unresponsive to his brains frantic commands to run. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream but it seemed as if he was completely paralyzed, forced to watch the terrifying show preparing itself in front of him. The darkness began to swirl and dance in a cyclone growing in strength, almost as if it was sucking the energy out of the room to grow. Gavin began to notice that his breathing was becoming more and more ragged as if the void was syphoning the precious oxygen that he needed to survive. The last thing Gavin saw as he felt himself loosing consciences was a black figure suddenly standing directly in front of him

Gavin’s eyes shot open and he sat straight up. He looked down to see his flashlight sitting on the ground next to his leg, the beam still on, bright and powerfully cutting through the darkness. Scrambling he groped the light and swung it around the room as he flung himself to his feet. There was no trace that any figure or vortex had ever entered this room’s atmosphere as the only disturbed dust seemed to be the dust gently falling from Gavin’s quick elevation.

Shaking his head to clear his mind Gavin remembered the ghostly nurse and the morgue. No dark entity was going to keep him from finding out the truth and perhaps helping the nurse move on. Firmly gripping his flashlight Gavin charged into the dark hallway and swiftly arrived at the heavy steel door marked Morgue.

Swallowing a small lump that had begun to form in his throat, Gavin gently pushed the door open. He confidently stepped into the room and turned towards the small shelf of drawers that once held the unfortunate casualties of the asylum. Stopping in his tracks Gavin’s jaw fell open slightly as, standing in front of the drawers was the apparition of the nurse. She stood with her hands clasped together and looked up at Gavin with a sad look.

Gavin struggled to find his voice and then let out “Who are you? You wanted help, I can help you” The solemn looking nurse gently stared into Gavin’s eyes and opened her mouth, “It’s too late now, you can’t help me. I’m sorry.” Gavin looked at her with a shocked look, “What do you mean it’s too late, I can still help, I read your note about Dr. Riktoh.” The ethereal nurse seemed to smile a small sad smile as she stared into Gavin’s eyes. She stepped back from the drawer she was standing in front of and whispered, “See for yourself.”

Gavin looked at the drawer and then back at the apparition. He slowly walked over to the closed drawer and placed his hands on the latch. Gavin stood for a moment and held his breath preparing for what he was about to do. Catching his breath Gavin firmly gripped the latch, clicked it open and pulled out the cadaver drawer. The drawer was heavy, heavier than Gavin anticipated it to be and he quickly saw why. Laying on the exposed board was a body. Gavin looked in disgust at the nurse, who was still standing composed to the side of the drawer. She glanced at the body and beckoned him to examine it. Gavin picked up his flashlight, his hands shaking and trembling as he shined the beam onto the body’s head.

Gavin screamed and fell to the floor. He looked at the nurse who still stood composed and shouted, “No! No! What is this! What did you do?” She continued to look at him in a sad expression and then took a few steps towards him and knelt down. She looked long into his eyes and whispered “Now you understand why you can’t help me anymore, why it is too late.” She stood up and looked at the body. The corpses head was concaved from a wound still fresh with dripping blood. “Now you understand why you can never leave this place.” Gavin stood and took one more look at the horrific body in front of him, oozing with blood dripping from the pieces of skull protruding through the skin. The body of a young man who was once filled with emotion and energy. The body of someone he once knew. His body.

Credit To – ZR

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Jason Loved to Read

August 29, 2015 at 12:00 PM
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Jason loved to read. Every day he would take a walk to a nice place, like the park or the beach, and sit down to read for hours. It didn’t matter what the story was about, or who the author was, because Jason just loved to read.

One weekend, his usual places were a little crowded due to the gorgeous weather. He decided to take a walk in the woods to see if he could find a clearing, or an interesting log, where he could relax and lose himself in a book.

Jason walked through the forest for quite some time. These particular woods weren’t good for hiking and had no trails, so he was sure to have some solitude. He wasn’t sure how far he had walked before he came upon the mysterious building. It looked somewhat like an old bank, and was covered in moss and vines. The doors were open and falling off the hinges, and the windows were filthy and broken. Jason figured this strangely placed building might be just what he was looking for.

As he entered through the crumbling doorway, he saw dozens of shelves lined with books. What was a library doing in the middle of the woods? It didn’t matter to Jason. All that mattered was that he was staring at what might possibly be a treasure trove of unread narratives.

He wasted no time grabbing a random book off the closest shelf as he dropped his book bag without care for its contents. Jason inspected the book and it was surely something he had never heard of. He returned it to the shelf and went to further investigate the library. The whole place was filthy, but there wasn’t any random clutter like one might except from an abandoned building. But why was it abandoned? Who could just leave all these books to rot? Jason only thought about it for a moment, as he was too engaged in reading the names of all the books, wondering if he’d find something he recognized. He didn’t find anything remotely familiar.

Books were meant to be read, and Jason felt like these books weren’t fulfilling their purpose, and for a long time it seemed. It was time to start reading. He picked one called ‘Black Wing Adventures’ and sat Indian-style on the floor. The story was incredible! It had everything anyone could want in a good book: adventure, romance, action, even philosophy. But it wasn’t just that it had so many good qualities, it was that those qualities shined so much brighter than anything he had ever read. If this book was this amazing, what treasures did the other books hold? Jason was excited in a way he never felt before.

It was getting late and Jason knew that his girlfriend, Melissa, would be pissed that he wasn’t answering her texts. Normally she understood that this was Jason’s ‘me’ time, but he usually came home hours ago. He took the book with him so he could finish it later and started his journey home. He wasn’t sure if he would find the library again, so he marked trees along the way with a sharpie he had in his book bag.

The next morning, Jason got up a little early so he could read. He grabbed his book bag and took out what he expected to be ‘Black Wing Adventures’. The book now had a different title, ‘Love Without a Friend’. More rummaging through the bag produced only his other boring books that he had previously been excited to read. Did he grab the wrong book? No, that wasn’t possible. He hadn’t let go of the book before putting it in his bag. It was obviously from the same library because it was covered in thick dust. He must have taken the wrong book. It was the only explanation.

He decided that he would read ‘Love Without A Friend’ even though the title didn’t really seem anywhere near as cool as ‘Black Wing Adventures’. Boy, was he wrong. It was just as good. It didn’t have adventure or action, but it had a strikingly human quality to it. Jason had never felt the kinds of emotions the story was invoking. Turning each page was like opening a Christmas present. He couldn’t wait to receive each word, each thought, each feeling. It was late, and Jason began to nod off. He didn’t want to stop reading, but eventually he passed out.

The next morning he was still holding the book in his hands. It was still opened to the page he left off on, and he started to read again. He had no idea what he was reading. The story had completely changed. There were different characters, different thoughts, different feelings. He closed the book and looked at the title. It was ‘Men and Monsters’. Jason was even more shocked than the first time. This book hadn’t left his hands. He hadn’t returned to the library to exchange it for another book. None of this was possible, and Jason was getting understandably freaked out.

All he could think of doing was going back to the library. Maybe he could find one of the other books he was reading. Upon his arrival, Jason received a text message from Melissa that read, “Are you ignoring me?” He responded, telling her he had found a new spot in the woods to read. He left out the part about a mysterious library with curious books, figuring it would only lead to more questions. Once Melissa’s concern had diminished, Jason shut off his phone.

When he got inside the library, he searched long and hard for ‘Black Wing Adventures’ or ‘Love Without a Friend’, but he was unsuccessful. In fact, none of the titles he remembered from before were anywhere to be found. Every book was different. Could this be another abandoned library? How many could there possibly be? Even one seemed strange. Jason just wanted to experience what these books were capable of, so he didn’t want to think about how strange the whole situation had become. He just wanted to read.

He knew he didn’t have much time, so he quickly grabbed a book called ‘Our Nation’s Last Hero’. It was a political drama with as many twists and turns as a great mystery. Jason had never read anything like it. He rarely thought about politics, but it was suddenly the most interesting subject in the world. It started getting dark, so once again, Jason left the library and took the book he had been reading. He hoped it would still be the same book when he woke up the next morning. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

Jason didn’t know what to do. These books were amazing, but apparently he wasn’t going to be able to finish one unless he read it in less than twenty-four hours. He was going to have to stay awake for a long time, so he packed his book bag with caffeinated energy drinks and a few deli sandwiches in case he got hungry. Jason knew Melissa would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He cared so little that he left his phone at home on purpose.

And so it began. Jason was on a mission to finish one of the magical changing books. What else could they be but magical? A book that changes every day? What an incredible thing! Though Jason had been upset about not being able to finish one, he was thrilled at the fact that he was reading books that no one else would ever read. If he managed to finish one, he would be as satisfied as he could ever be in his whole life.

He chose a book called ‘The Lion’s Tears’, and began reading. As he read, he would periodically take a few swigs of energy drink and take a bite of a sandwich. Eventually he ran out of drinks and began crashing from all the caffeine. It was too soon! He hadn’t finished the book! There were just a few chapters left, but he couldn’t stay awake any longer. He hoped that he would wake up again before the book changed. When he awoke, it seemed as though the next day had not yet come, but the book had still transformed into something new. Jason decided he was wrong about when the change occurred. It wasn’t when the day changed, it was whenever he fell asleep.

Jason stopped leaving the library. He had no time to walk back and forth, or spend time with his girlfriend, or do anything other than read the magical books. He tried to stay awake long enough to finish one, but it was no use. He just kept falling asleep. Jason was getting angry now. This wasn’t a treasure trove of beautiful works of fiction, it was a curse. He was obsessed with finishing one of the books, and it was eating away at his sanity.

No food, no water, no contact with other human beings. When Jason would begin to fall asleep, he would take a piece of broken glass from one of the windows and cut himself to stay awake. After several cuts, he began to feel weak from blood loss. His mind was becoming warped as he sucked every word into his now crippled consciousness. The books he chose became more and more macabre. Titles like ‘Making Love to Murder’ and ‘The Man Who Ate Himself’ were overtaking the other, more gentle ones. If Jason was going to finish one of these books, it had to be something that interested him, and gentle things were no longer in his interest.

There was no telling how long Jason had been in the library. He wasn’t eating or drinking, but somehow he wasn’t hungry or thirsty anymore. It was as if the books were keeping him alive. They wanted him to read. They wanted him to finish. He kept getting closer and closer to finishing one of the books. He was sleeping less and less, and his dream was going to soon come true. But which book would be the lucky one? Which one would be read from front to back by a willing participant? He picked up a book off the shelf and looked at the title. It was called ‘Jason Loved to Read’.

His eyes widened. His mind raced. What an amazing coincidence! A book with his name in the title! And it’s about someone who loves to read! Adrenaline raced through Jason’s body as he opened the book and began the first chapter. He read of a teenage boy who found an abandoned library in the woods. He read about books that magically changed their content whenever the protagonist fell asleep. He read about himself. This was the book that he would finish. This was the book that he HAD to finish. Jason’s heart pounded like mad as he reached the final chapter, when suddenly he was interrupted by a shouting female.

“What the hell, Jason?! THIS is where you’ve been?! I’ve been calling! I’ve been texting! Everyone is looking for you! I only found this place because I happened to see those marks on the trees and thought that maybe you made them! Hello?! Jason?! Are you deaf?!” Just then, she noticed the cuts all over Jason’s body. She fell silent, and took a step back. Here was her boyfriend, cut up and bloody, buried in a book, paying no attention to her tirade.

“Jason… what’s going on? Are you alright? Why won’t you look at me? Jason?” Her voice was concerned but hesitant. Jason just sat there Indian-style, reading his book. Melissa lost her temper.

“Look at me, Jason! What the fuck?!” She began to cry. All she wanted was to find her boyfriend and find out why he had been missing. She expected him to embrace her and tell her that they were together again and that everything was going to be alright. She ran to him, bent down, grabbed his arm and shouted, “Jason!”

In a split second, Jason grabbed a piece of broken glass, already covered in blood from using it to cut himself, and jammed it firmly into Melissa’s neck. Her eyes became wild with fear as she gurgled and jiggled, eventually falling to the floor with the glass still in her neck. Jason’s face had no expression as he continued reading his book; his legacy.

It was about to happen. The last page. Jason couldn’t believe it. He had finally stayed awake long enough to finish one of the magical books from the mysterious abandoned library in the middle of the woods. His hands shook as he turned the page and saw the words ‘The End’ towards the bottom, below the final paragraphs. It was then that he became horrified for the first time in his entire life. The book ended with the protagonist, Jason, stabbing his girlfriend in the neck with a shard of broken glass.

Jason didn’t move, didn’t blink, or even think. He just sat there in absolute shock. Was this really happening? Why did the book say that he killed his girlfriend?! That was impossible! Jason was no killer, he just loved to read! He stood up and screamed a desperate, primal scream, throwing the book on the floor next to Melissa’s body. He looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. There was blood all over the floor. Melissa was surely dead, and Jason must have been the murderer. He walked home in a daze, and called 911 to turn himself in.

According to Jason’s story, the police expected to find Melissa’s body in an abandoned building in the woods. When they arrived at the proper location, they found only her body amid the blood stained leaves and branches. Nothing that resembled a library was anywhere in sight.

The details of the trial and conviction aren’t extraordinary, but what you may find interesting is what happened when Jason arrived at prison. His cellmate offered him a book to pass the time. Jason politely replied, “No thanks. I hate to read.”

Credit To – Umbrello

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In the Dead of Night

August 27, 2015 at 12:00 AM
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This is a video pasta. If you cannot see the embedded video, please click the link below and watch at the video’s YouTube page. Enjoy!

Credit To – Written & Directed by Chris McMahon and Michael Whitehouse

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Room Number 17

August 11, 2015 at 12:00 PM
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This story is based off of real events that happened to me and my family while on our second vacation to Scotland. Names might be changed to keep our privacy and some details might be wrong, but for the rest, everything is what happened. Oh, and we all survived ;)

My parents dragged me towards the pillar where the tour guide would meet us. It was the second day of our two-week vacation to Scotland and right now we were in the capital city of Edinburgh. Our hotel had given us a few tips and things to visit over night and eventually, the three of us decided that we would go to the ‘Mercat Ghost Tour’ in the Edinburgh Dungeons. “Exciting for the entire family!” was what the hotel owner had said. In all honesty, I wasn’t such a fan of ghost stories. I didn’t like horror at all, actually. It was definitely not my favorite, nor could I take jumpscares. So I wasn’t that happy. My heart was pounding quite fast and if I were to see even the slightest scary thing, like a spider, I’d probably jump in my fathers’ arms to hide. No shame, I’m a scaredy-cat.

It had gotten pretty late, and we were waiting at a small café with a nice view on the Mercat pillar. Eventually, the tour guide arrived together with a German family of four. The tour guide introduced himself and we started walking through the city. Edinburgh was beautiful. It was a pretty old city with a big history. The guide stopped every now and then at a building and taught / told us an interesting story, before continuing on walking. The German family took pictures of everything while me and mom listened carefully. Dad was taking pictures as well. We walked around the plaza, called “the Edinburgh Mile” and after walking for a while we reached a small street, nearly hidden from the public. It was barely visible and we stopped to look around a bit. We were surrounded by houses and flats, three-high each. The tour guide opened his bag and searched for the key to the building he’d take us in. After a while he found it. He opened the door and gestured us to enter.

The guide grabbed a lantern and started walking down some stairs. We followed him down the cellar-like stairs and the door closed shut behind us. Shivers ran down my spine as it was getting colder as the night grew older. Also because we went lower and lower underground. I looked over my shoulder at the door and nearly bumped in my father because we came to a sudden stop. The guide turned around and creepily looked at us. The dungeons appeared to be discovered quite recently. They had been closed off and forgotten due to the criminal world seeking refuge and dealing in the underground. The government wanted none of it and thus they closed it. Years passed and the dungeons got forgotten. At least, until recently, when someone found them by accident at the construction site of some building. Mercat took the opportunity to make it into the ghost tour it was now. There were prop bodies and lights hidden throughout the dungeon and if you listened carefully you could hear scary music playing in the distance. The guide focused his attention on us and started telling stories. I wasn’t completely there though, I was distracted. I felt cold and somehow… unsafe. I wanted to get out, even though there was nothing to worry about. I sought comfort in my mothers’ arms and tried to listen to the guide. But there was something… or someone… ominous around. I didn’t feel secure, it was as if we were being watched from behind. We continued and got even deeper inside the dungeons as the guide took us to a closed off section of the dungeons. It had been found by the workers of Mercat while cleaning out and preparing the dungeons for their tours. Apparently it was the safe-route from the Edinburgh Castle to the outside world. The route had been forgotten and hidden for ages until they found it. Story goes that two of the castle’s guards accidently blew up the tunnel by firing the cannon which indicated one o’clock at one A.M. instead of P.M. after having one or two beers too much. it fell of the wall and boom! Anyway, the tunnel was now closed off for visitors.

“Have I told you the story of Room 17?” Asked the tour guide. We all shook our heads, indicating he indeed hadn’t.
“Very well.” The guard put down the lantern on a rock and started his story. Again shivers ran down my spine, followed by a feeling of dread. I felt scared, anxious. But not unsafe. Not anymore.

“A long time ago, there was this hotel. Everybody forgot it’s name, location and city. But it’s around the city of Saint Andrews. The story goes the hotel had a haunted room, number 17. Of course, the room hadn’t always been haunted. It started in the 16th century. On a late autumn night, a young lady appeared at the hotel. She seemed cold and looked for a room to stay the night. The hotel owner had one free room, number 17. The girl thanked him and immediately went upstairs to sleep for the night. The next morning, the girl wasn’t awake for breakfast. She hadn’t come down for lunch either. Even though every guest needs their privacy, the hotel owner was getting worried that something had happened to the girl. The man walked up the stairs and knocked on the room door. He waited for an answer, but it stayed awfully quiet. He knocked on the door again, this time a bit louder. Still no answer. The man was getting very worried about the mysterious female now, so he decided to grab the spare room key and unlock the door. He walked down the stairs again, but as he went down to grab the key, he heard eerie whispers in his ear. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, something about a man clothed in all black. This scared the old man. He grabbed the key to room no. 17 and held it tight in his sweaty hands. He ran back up the stairs and knocked on the door one more time. No answer. He unlocked the door and turned the doorknob to the right. He carefully pushed open the door and called ‘miss? Excuse me, are you there?’ He took a quick peek around the half opened door but couldn’t see the bed yet. He now opened the door fully and walked in. On the bed, covered in a red pool of blood, the corpse of the mysterious female had been left for dead, murdered in cold blood. On the ceiling of the room was written “HELP” in the women’s blood. The old man gasped in fear and called for the town guards. To this day nobody knows who murdered the girl. The hotel owner couldn’t handle the feeling of guilt and closed the hotel for good. It wasn’t until 50 years later when a young family bought the empty house. There were way too many rooms for them, so they decided it would be a good idea to make it into a hotel. So they did. But as the husband of the family inspected every single room, he found one room with a strange, scary atmosphere. He didn’t feel safe at all in the room. He could swear he heard whispers in the room, telling him about a man clothed in black and murder. He shivered and shut the door. He numbered it room 17 and decided to never rent the room. The family earned good money off of the room, but never ever let anyone rent room 17.

The family got rich off of their hotel and the fantastic service. But never ever did they rent room 17. It turned spring, to summer, autumn, and winter again. But the winter was harsh and cold. Chances of surviving without food or a roof above your head were near to null. Every room in the hotel was full, except for room number 17.
The weather outside was harsh, it was snowing and the wind was sharp. It was close to midnight and the family’s husband was sitting in the bar drinking his final beer before closing the hotel door. Suddenly he could hear a weak knocking on the door. He grabbed a torch and opened the door. He looked straight into the eyes of a young woman and her child. They seemed very tired and cold. They were soaking wet of the snow and freezing. If he didn’t let them in, they would surely freeze to death. The husband had pledged to never let anyone stay in room 17, but decided it was better to let them stay than letting them freeze to death.
He let the woman in who thanked him dearly. He handed her the key to room 17 and shut the door. The woman and daughter went up the stairs and stayed the night in room 17. The husband went to his room and tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. His heart was pounding in fear, yet he didn’t know why. An hour passed and the man still couldn’t fall asleep when suddenly he heard a loud screech. It sounded like it was from a woman. He lit a candle and ran up the stairs. Every hotel guest had awoken from their slumber by the loud scream and everyone was looking out of their room doors to see what had happened. Everyone, but room 17. The hotel owner was shaking from head to toe as he opened the door to room 17. He walked inside and saw the woman sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, her eyes fixed on the ceiling in fear. She was completely terrified and paralyzed in fear. The daughter was lying dead on the floor. The husband knew that he had made a mistake. Rumor spread across the country like wildfire and soon, the entire nation knew about the hotel and the haunted room. The husband was never renting the room, ever again. Not even when it was freezing outside. He pledged it against his wife, his son, his grandmother and everybody else. Never.

Anyway, years passed and the hotel grew famous worldwide for its haunted room. Word reached the Vatican and a monk wanted to hear nothing of it. He thought it was all the biggest humbug and he was going to prove it with his own life. The monk travelled all the way to Scotland, to the hotel, just to prove it was all a hoax. The monk sought contact with the hotel owner and after discussing for a long while, the hotel owner decided to let the monk stay for one night, and one night only.

The monk took his belongings inside the room and the owner gave him two bells. One huge bell, which he could ring if he was in trouble. ‘DONNGGG’ It would sound. And a small bell, for if he needed something to eat or drink. ‘ding!’ it would sound.
Night fell over the city and the family’s husband stayed awake for the night, scared of what might happen to the monk. For hours he waited, but nothing happened. The hotel owner’s eyes grew heavy and he nearly fell asleep. Maybe he even did, until he got awoken by the sound of a bell.
‘ding!’ ‘ding!’ ‘ding!’ It was the small bell, being ringed over and over again. it got quicker and quicker, so the husband slowly made his way up the stairs. suddenly, the big bell rang. ‘DONGGGG!’ it sounded through the entire hotel. The husband now ran up the stairs and opened the room as quickly as he could. In the middle of the room, the monk was sitting in a chair, his eyes fixated on the ceiling in fear. In his hands, the small bell. In the corner of the room, the big bell. Way too far for him to have been able to ring it.
The hotel owners were now certain of the room being haunted, by the mysterious woman who had been murdered there ages ago. The hotel closed, the room numbers disappeared. Nobody knows what and where it is nowadays. have a good night.”

The tour guide let us out of the dungeon and we walked to the hotel together, still in shock of the finishing story as told by the guide. It was quite an amazing experience, yet we wouldn’t want to do it again. Way to scary, especially so late at night. We arrived at our hotel and stayed the night. The day after, we drove from Edinburgh to Crail.

Crail was a small fishing village located near Isle of May, famous for its huge population of puffins. We arrived at the hotel where we would stay the night. After walking around for the entire day, we made our way to the hotel and met up with the hotel owner. The year before, we’d been there as well and the man still remembered us. He was very nice and kind, and loved whiskey. Just like every real scot. He told us stories about when he was younger. The owner took us to our room, which he had reserved especially for us. It was a big room with a nice view on the sea. Strangely enough, it had no number on the door. I suddenly got a flashback of the year before, when we stayed here as well. We were having breakfast and got in a conversation with a man and women who had stayed the night in a room with ‘no number’. They’d had some weird experiences in the room. The woman woke up in the middle of the night because she felt something next to her, but her husband was gone. The bed was empty. Somehow, the husband had gone walking in his sleep and found his way to the stairs next to the bathroom. That’s at least what they told.

Anyway, the owner gave us the key and walked back downstairs with us. After more stories and folklore, he went to bed and we were left alone. It was getting midnight and the three of us decided to play a card game, called “last card plus”
My father had always been the more skeptical of us three when it came to ghosts. He didn’t really believe in them. As we played the game, he started telling jokes about the tour yesterday. Neither mom nor I liked it, since we did believe in ghosts. But whatever. We finished the first of seven rounds. Mom won, dad and I had to count the score of our leftover cards. I had 6 points and mom wrote it down. I looked at dad who had a weird grin on his face. He showed me his cards and I looked at the score of the cards together. Seventeen.
Mom and I glanced at eachother and laughed nervously. But the second round ended with dad having seventeen points. Again. His smile disappeared. At the third round, his smile was completely gone and at the end we counted our leftover points again. Dad’s face had turned white now. Seventeen points, three times in a row. And at that moment the lights went out.

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