2632. The invisible cloak

Well! What a successful night Percy the Goblin had. He was returning home after scaring the living daylights out of most of the villagers. His invisible cloak – or rather the cloak he wore to make himself invisible – had been the best thing he had ever bought. When he had tried the cloak on at the stall in the town marketplace, the Witch running the stall said, “It’s you! It’s definitely you! It’s got your name written all over it!”

Who could resist such encouragement? He purchased it instantly. Of course he probably paid too much for it, but he asked for a written receipt so that he could manually change the purchase price and then his wife would say, “Goodness! You got that for a song!”

He had wandered around the village all night. When he saw a possible victim he would pick up something handy and wave it in the air. It looked like the thing was boogying in the air. He would do a little dance with it and the victims would rush off screaming in fright.

The biggest fright he had given anyone all night was a little old lady with a miniature poodle. Percy grabbed the poodle and waved it about. The old lady screamed and stood motionless. She couldn’t move. She was transfixed. Honestly it was the funniest thing he had ever done in his life.

When he got home he couldn’t wait to tell of his adventures, especially the episode with the little old lady and the poodle.

“Show me!” said his wife. “Pretend I’m the little old lady!”

Percy put on his cloak. He picked up a pot off the kitchen table. “Pretend this pot is a poodle!” He waved the pot in the air. He jived frenetically. He even did the splits (as only goblins can).

His wife screamed with laughter. She was helpless. “It doesn’t make you invisible at all dear. It simply makes the viewer see through all your clothes!”

2561. A true story for Halloween

Conor was invited by Jordan, his brother, and Jordan’s friend, Everett, to go on a fishing trip with them out to sea. They would stay on an uninhabited island overnight. They brought along a tent and some supplies. The island was several miles from the mainland. It used to be used in the old days to house prisoners. Many a criminal had died on the island. In fact, there was a story – not true of course – that at night if you heard an owl screech rather than hoot, you would hear the rattle of prisoners’ chains as they began their nightly and murderous prowls.

The three lads did a bit of fishing, caught a couple of fish, and then moored on the island to set up camp. It didn’t take long; modern day tents are easy things to install.

The time came for the fish to be cooked for dinner. There was plenty of wood about, but oh dear! they had forgotten to bring any matches. Jordan and Everett volunteered to go to the mainland and return with matches. It should take only about an hour. They left. A little later a storm came up. Conor knew his brother and friend wouldn’t return in a rough sea. It was beginning to get dark and there was no food or light. There was nothing for it than to go to bed early.

Conor snuggled down in his sleeping bag. That was when he heard an owl screech. Was that a shape at the entrance to his tent?

2236. Strange things

I glanced at my digital alarm clock to see how much longer I had before having to get out of my cosy bed. It said it was seventy-four minutes past twenty-seven (27:74). What the…?

I turned on the bedside light and jumped out of bed. My clothes weren’t there; only a great green gown with a hood. I put it on because I sleep naked and had to put on something before walking around the house. And then I noticed…

This wasn’t my room. This wasn’t my bed. This wasn’t my house. I didn’t know where I was. I drew the bedroom curtains apart and gazed out the window. It was pitch black. Not a star. Nothing. No dark shape of anything.

I began feeling my way around the house, rubbing my hand against the wall in the hope of finding a light switch. There was no switch to be found. Only the dull light from the bedside lamp cast a small glow through the bedroom door. I was in some sort of corridor. Suddenly the bedside lamp…

went out.

I was in total darkness. I could no longer even find the wall to grope along. And then…

I touched it! I touched it! It felt a bit slimy and warm and bristly. I estimated it was about the size of a human but not a human. Not that I really stood there at 27:82 in the pitch black wearing a green hooded gown finding something slimy and warm and bristly and deciding to do a logical analysis. I was petrified.

Next thing my wife was there with her phone with the phone light turned on. I was in our meadow next to the house patting our cow. It would have been funny if it wasn’t surreal. And I had to wash my feet before getting back into bed.

(Footnote: In 2235 stories I have never resorted to a character being in a dream as a resolution to a plot. It’s an easy way out. But it’s only fair that in 2236 stories at least one should end in a dream!)

2231. Cemetery shortcut

There was someone, or something, watching me. I felt it. That night I shouldn’t have taken a shortcut through the cemetery. It was to change my life.

I had been working late at the law office. I was going to grab some junk food somewhere on the way home (I would go to work on foot and lived alone) but then I remembered some left-over soup in the fridge. Waste not, want not – as my granny used to say. It’s a motto I’ve lived by. So I was hungry and eager to get home. That is why I took the shortcut through the cemetery. I normally wouldn’t do that because to be honest I don’t like cemeteries, let alone at night.

I got goose bumps. The hairs on my arms and back of my neck stood up. I wanted to turn around and look. There was no sound, no footsteps. I was telling myself, “Don’t turn around! Don’t walk faster! Stay calm and quietly walk forward and you’ll soon be out of here.”

And then I heard it. A little sound. Very quiet. Very soft. “Help! Help!”

I stopped. It seemed to be coming from a tall gravestone monument – a pedestal with a marble angel on top. “Help! Help!”

My first thought was to wonder if this was a trap. But what if it wasn’t? What if the child was in genuine need? (I presumed it was a child because the voice was so small). I decided to investigate. It was a child indeed. A little girl. I asked her what was wrong, but she would answer nothing but “Help! Help!”

“Come with me,” I said, and she followed. We went home and I contacted the police. Over the next few weeks messages went out about the little girl. It drew a blank. No one knew a thing, and the little girl spoke but would never say her name or where she came from.

That was fifteen years ago. As the years went by I realized something: it wasn’t the little girl who was watching me. It was someone else.

Tonight we celebrate Sasha’s twenty-first birthday. We made up the age and date and name. I know that Sasha and her boyfriend Sam are going to announce their engagement. She has been the joy of my life.

1985. Haunted House Murder

Steve’s next door neighbour, Noel, was a pain in the proverbial. He was forever “popping over” to visit Steve. He’d pop over for this. He’d pop over for that. Steve was the practical sort; a down-to-earth salt of the earth sort of guy. He was sick of Noel’s intrusions. There was only one thing for it: he would have to do Noel in. Permanently.

Steve planned Noel’s demise scrupulously. He would suggest to Noel in the jolliest of ways that perhaps they should spend a few hours together at Halloween at the Fair Ground that was coming to town; a sort of Halloween “Boy’s Day Out”. Then when they were in the Haunted House he would murder Noel. There was lots of screaming going on so noisy shrieks wouldn’t be a factor, and anyone who saw the deed and viewed the corpse would regard it as simply no more than further action in the Haunted House.

Steve went through the Haunted House several days before to plan in which room he would stab Noel to death. It would be in the third room of the four. It was dark enough, with rather silly holograms doing a sort of spooky dance to spooky music. Even on his first visit people were screaming. Dare he say it, but this murder could be fun.

Off Steve and Noel went to the fair. Steve had the knife (with folded blade) carefully concealed in his jacket. The time came to go through the Haunted House. Steve was nervously excited.

Jiminy Crickets! It was Halloween. They had upped the scariness since Steve had been through earlier. He was never so scared in his life as in that first room. In the second room Steve was screaming obscenities like they were going out of fashion. The third room was devastating. To hell with Noel – wherever he was – Steve just had to get out of that terrifying Haunted House. He ran through the fourth room. He escaped to the outside.

Son of a monkey! Suffering succotash! Dang rabbit! Steve was shaking like a leaf.

Noel appeared through the Haunted House’s exit. He was calm as can be.

“WOW!” he said. “That was great! Let’s go get some cotton candy.”

1978. Bedtime story

A change of tone… This is a fairy story to read to children at bedtime.

Once upon a time a man had three wives. The three wives were very jealous of one another. The first wife caught the second wife and put her through the mincer to make ground meat. She fed the ground meat to the third wife who died having the most terrible convulsions caused by the horrible meat.

The first wife was now the only wife left. When the husband found that she had brutally murdered the other two wives he cut her head off. Out popped a terrible venomous snake from her neck. The snake bit the husband and he died of snake poison.

Now there were four dead people. The snake escaped and has been seen only twice, each time under a bed.

I’ll turn the light out now. Sleep tight.

1453. The last scream

It was very spooky. Within seconds of Natasha getting wet in the shower (this is at night time) the bathroom light would go off. It started only about a month ago, and occasionally. Now it happened automatically, every time.

“Blow it,” thought Natasha, not as yet equating the event with supranatural causes, “I shall walk dripping wet across the bathroom floor and turn the light back on.” She did just that. But no sooner had she got back into the shower the light went out again.

Next above the sound of water falling, she heard “hee hee hee”. It was a woman’s voice. It was coming from the direction of the light switch. Natasha began to feel scared. The “hee hee hee” had certain nasty overtones.

Natasha stepped immediately out of the shower, strode to the light switch, turned it on and reached for a towel. All the bathroom towels had gone. Not even the usual hand towel was there.

And then she saw it. OMG! She saw it! Natasha screamed. That scream was the last sound ever to come out of Natasha’s mouth.

Hee hee hee!

915. Scary stuff

It was possibly one of the most extraordinary things that could have happened. Bernice was gob-smacked. It wasn’t just that she was flabbergasted by the scene; it was the fact that her husband, Norman, had never been so terrified in his life.

“That’s certainly one to remember,” said Bernice to Norman. “It knocked the bejesus out of me.”

“Me too,” said Norman. “I just about shit my pants.”

To think! It had been an ordinary start to the day. And then… that happened…

“I’m still reeling,” said Norman.

“I know,” said Bernice. “Look at you. You’re still shaking.”

It will certainly go down as one of the more memorable moments in their married life.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!