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The Spirit of Devil’s Curb

Estimated reading time — 6 minutes

This story happened when I was about 13 years old. It was a hot summer afternoon and my buddy and I were bored and looking for something to do. For the purposes of this story, I will refer to my friend as Hank. Hank’s older brother heard us talking about how bored we were and suggested that we go down to the river bottoms and check out the area where the devil worshippers hung out, just to creep ourselves out. I had heard my older brother talk about some blood cult or devil worshippers hanging around the river bottoms as well, so when Hank’s older brother mentioned this to us, my interest was piqued. Being young and stupid, Hank and I were always interested in things that were scary especially if it involved local gossip, so we decided to go. It also helped to ease our fears knowing that it was still light outside and would remain light for a few more hours because it was the summertime. According to Hank’s older brother, the devil worshippers only came out at night. “So we should be safe,” I told Hank.

At the time, the town that I lived in was small and the river bottoms only had a few isolated houses that were separated by several acres of farmland, so there really wasn’t a lot down there and my expectations for finding anything interesting were low. As Hank and I made our way down the road that led to the hill nicknamed “Devil’s Curb,” we talked lightly about the things that our older brothers had said about the devil worshippers. We both believed that a bunch of weirdos probably went and did drugs and some other stupid stuff, but neither of us thought that animal or human sacrifice were some of the events that occurred down there. Our plan was to walk down Devil’s Curb, investigate a few areas in the river bottoms, and then return home before it got dark. However, we were not prepared for the things that we would see.

As we approached Devil’s Curb, Hank and I noticed a foul stench in the air. It smelled like something rotting. It kind of reminded me of the smell of a dead deer when I would go deer hunting. It wasn’t incredibly potent, and it was common for deer to come down from the nearby mountains and become roadkill, so the smell of a dead deer did not seem too out of place.


For the sake of the story, it’s important that I give you a brief physical layout description of Devil’s Curb. It is a paved road with a switchback hill that if you start at the top you will find yourself going straight down in a southern direction, and then tightly turning into a westward direction. Then, after traveling about 30 feet you will make another tight turn that faces you in a southeasterly direction and you will go another 15 feet until you are in the river bottoms.

Now that you have that imagery, I will continue. Hank and I found the source of the smell which indeed was a dead deer laying off the side of the road before the first switchback that turns you toward the west. Again, this would normally not be of any concern. However, the deer had a thick rope around its neck, it had been gutted, and its legs were missing. At first, I just thought that it was some unethical hunters, and it may have been, but then Hank and I noticed all of the other dead animals surrounding the area. A dead raccoon, several dead squirrels, a few dead cats, and what looked to be like the rotting corpse of a very large dog. That one upset me the most. There were things that were out of place, such as an old record player, a blood-stained pulpit, several knives and hatchets, and a few pestles and mortars lying around. This should have been enough warning for us to go back home, but again, we were young and stupid, so we didn’t. Instead, we kept to our plan and continued down Devil’s Curb to the west. As we descended, the hair on the back of my neck was standing up and I was anxious to know what else we would find.

Before the road switched back to the southeastern direction that led to the river bottoms, Hank and I again walked off the road and into a small secluded section that overlooked most of the farmland in the river bottoms to the east, south, and west of us. There was a 20-foot ascending cliff to our backs that rose up to the same elevation before you begin walking down Devil’s Curb. Again, there was a serious stench in the air that reminded both of us of rotting flesh. However, this time the smell was overwhelming and made both of us nauseous to the point that we became dizzy and nearly vomited. However, what caused us the most horror was what we found lying at our feet. There were several tarps rolled up hot-dog style, with something rolled up inside of them. This was undoubtedly where the source of the smell was coming from. After discovering the tarps, Hank and I immediately looked at each other. Hank’s face was pale and I saw absolute terror on his face.

I began to feel like someone was watching us and when I told Hank this he started nodding his head frantically, and then loudly whispered, “I know, I feel it, too.”

Before either of us discussed this matter anymore or even thought about doing something asinine like opening up the tarps to peer inside, I began sprinting back up Devil’s Curb with Hank following closely at my heels. Once we reached the top of the hill, I continued dashing in the direction of home. I heard Hank screaming after me, telling me to stop so I slowed down, but I was afraid to turn around and see what was the matter. That’s when Hank grabbed my shoulder and forced me to turn around. “Look over there!” Hank shrilled pointing next to the top of Devil’s Curb.

When I looked in that direction I saw what Hank was pointing at. Standing about a football field length away from us was a woman in a white wedding dress, staring directly at us. Again, there were no houses anywhere nearby. No cars, and no streets, other than the one that Hank and I were standing on. No explanation as to why a woman would be standing in the middle of nowhere, wearing a wedding dress, alone. However, the worst part is that she was standing and looking over that 20-foot cliff… exactly where Hank and were when we saw the tarps! I knew at that moment that she had been watching us. But for how long? And why? And what was she doing? Why was she there?


We were close enough to her that we could see that her stare was fixed on us, but we were too far away to determine any facial features or if she was smiling, or glaring. We stopped running and continued to walk back home, suspiciously looking over our shoulders every few seconds to see if she was still there.

She was.

And she was staring at us until we were out of view. The nausea and dizziness Hank and I felt gradually went away until we returned to his house. We both agreed to not tell our parents for fear of getting in trouble.


That night, I kept dreaming of going to Devil’s Curb and looking around the area, I just couldn’t seem to get it out of my head. It was a little bit past 3 am when I was awakened by something. It wasn’t a noise, I just felt like someone was close by and I had always been a light sleeper. Then I looked down at the foot of my bed and saw her: the lady in the white wedding dress! She was hovering, or levitating, and once again staring directly at me. My blinds were open so the full moon shone in my room, lighting it up enough for me to see her, except I couldn’t see her face. I could only tell that she was glaring or scowling at me, I wasn’t quite sure. Maybe she was mad that I had been at Devil’s curb and found something that I shouldn’t have. Maybe she just hated punk teenage boys, or maybe… I have no idea. All I know is that as she levitated at the foot of my bed I couldn’t move. The fear was so powerful that I thought that I would pass out, or die. I decided to close my eyes and somehow I was able to throw the sheets over my head. I was hoping that I would fall asleep and that she would leave me alone, but all I could envision was her staring at me, peering deep into my soul with a menacing and hateful expression. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, daylight crept in through my window as the sun began to rise just a little before 6 am. I slowly pulled the sheets from over my head, half expecting her to still be there, but she wasn’t. As I looked around, there was no one in my room.

I never saw the lady in the white wedding dress again, and I hope that I never do. I have told a few people about this experience and nobody can give me a good explanation as to why she would be standing where she was, alone, and in a white wedding dress. I don’t know if she had any sinister intentions, but I’m glad that nothing bad happened to Hank or me. I also don’t know if it was just a bad dream when I saw her levitating at the foot of my bed, or if it really happened. Either way, I learned that it’s best that you stay away from things that are evil, even if you’re young and stupid.

Credit: Clydefrog

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