scary stories

[Jimmg]

I chilled at "Portraits."

[Ad Bot]

[Moriarty]

This one is supposed to be funny, the section its in says.


There once was a crazy ghost over Poughkeepsie way that got folks so plumb scared that nobody would stay more than one night in its house. It was a nice old place, or was, until the ghost began making its presence known. It got so no one would enter the house, not even kids on a dare, and you know what they are like!

Now when my friend Joe heard a fancy old house in Poughkeepsie was selling dirt cheap, he decided to go have a look. He asked me about it and I told him about the spook, but Joe just laughed. "I don't believe in ghosts," he said and went to visit the agent selling the house.

Well, the agent gave Joe a key, but refused to look at the old house with him, which should have told Joe something. But Joe's a stubborn man who won't listen to reason. He even waited until after dark to visit the house for the first time, just to prove his point.

Joe got to the house around nine p.m. and he entered the front hallway. It was a large entrance and well-proportioned, but neglected-looking, with creepy cobwebs and dust everywhere. As Joe paused near the door to get his bearings, he heard a thump from the top of the staircase facing him. A glowing leg appeared out of nowhere and rolled down the steps, landing right next to Joe's feet. Joe gasped out loud and stood frozen to the spot. An arm appeared and rolled down to meet the leg. Next came a foot, then another arm, then a hand. Glowing pieces of body kept popping into existence and plummeting down the steps towards Joe.

Joe held his ground a lot longer than anyone else ever had, but when a screaming head appeared at the top of the steps and started rolling towards him, Joe had had enough. With a shriek that could wake the dead - those that weren't already up and haunting the house that is - Joe ran for his life; out of the house, out of the street, and right out of town, leaving his car behind him.

He called me the next day and asked me to drive his car down to the hotel where he had spent the night. Joe was headed back to Manhattan and refused to come within fifty miles of Poughkeepsie ever again. The agent gave up trying to sell the house after that, and the house fell into ruin and was eventually torn down.

[Rekuddo]

Rekuddo why did the soldiers die?

Who knows, Infected blood, wrong blood type, infections. ect.

[Moriarty]

Or, maybe no medic? :o

[Moriarty]

Now for another scary story.

The reports had been on the radio all day, though she hadn't paid much attention to them. Some crazy man had escaped from the state asylum. They were calling him the Hook Man since he had lost his right arm and had it replaced with a hook. He was a killer, and everyone in the region was warned to keep watch and report anything suspicious. But this didn't interest her. She was more worried about what to wear on her date.


After several consultation calls with friends, she chose a blue outfit in the very latest style and was ready and waiting on the porch when her boyfriend came to pick her up in his car. They went to a drive-in movie with another couple, then dropped them off and went parking in the local lover's lane. The blue outfit was a hit, and she cuddled close to her boyfriend as they kissed to the sound of romantic music on the radio.

Then the announcer came on and repeated the warning she had heard that afternoon. An insane killer with a hook in place of his right hand was loose in the area. Suddenly, the dark, moonless night didn't seem so romantic to her. The lover's lane was secluded and off the beaten track. A perfect spot for a deranged mad-man to lurk, she thought, pushing her amorous boyfriend away.

"Maybe we should get out of here," she said. "That Hook Man sounds dangerous."

"Awe, c'mon babe, it's nothing," her boyfriend said, trying to get in another kiss. She pushed him away again.

"No, really. We're all alone out here. I'm scared," she said.

They argued for a moment. Then the car shook a bit, as if something…or someone…had touched it. She gave a shriek and said: "Get us out of here now!"

"Jeeze," her boyfriend said in disgust, but he turned the key and went roaring out of the lover's lane with a screeching of his tires.

They drove home in stony silence, and when they pulled into her driveway, he refused to help her out of the car. He was being so unreasonable, she fumed to herself. She opened the door indignantly and stepped into her driveway with her chin up and her lips set. Whirling around, she slammed the door as hard as she could. And then she screamed.

Her boyfriend leapt out of the car and caught her in his arms. "What is it? What's wrong?" he shouted. Then he saw it. A bloody hook hung from the handle of the passenger-side door

[qevil]

aaaaw, crap. i shouldnt have read all of these before bed.

[Netwars4]

Is bloody mary real? :o

Its a drink, of course it's real.

[Moriarty]

Story of bloody mary:

She lived deep in the forest in a tiny cottage and sold herbal remedies for a living. Folks living in the town nearby called her Bloody Mary, and said she was a witch. None dared cross the old crone for fear that their cows would go dry, their food-stores rot away before winter, their children take sick of fever, or any number of terrible things that an angry witch could do to her neighbors.

Then the little girls in the village began to disappear, one by one. No one could find out where they had gone. Grief-stricken families searched the woods, the local buildings, and all the houses and barns, but there was no sign of the missing girls. A few brave souls even went to Bloody Mary's home in the woods to see if the witch had taken the girls, but she denied any knowledge of the disappearances. Still, it was noted that her haggard appearance had changed. She looked younger, more attractive. The neighbors were suspicious, but they could find no proof that the witch had taken their young ones.

Then came the night when the daughter of the miller rose from her bed and walked outside, following an enchanted sound no one else could hear. The miller's wife had a toothache and was sitting up in the kitchen treating the tooth with an herbal remedy when her daughter left the house. She screamed for her husband and followed the girl out of the door. The miller came running in his nightshirt. Together, they tried to restrain the girl, but she kept breaking away from them and heading out of town.

The desperate cries of the miller and his wife woke the neighbors. They came to assist the frantic couple. Suddenly, a sharp-eyed farmer gave a shout and pointed towards a strange light at the edge of the woods. A few townsmen followed him out into the field and saw Bloody Mary standing beside a large oak tree, holding a magic wand that was pointed towards the miller's house. She was glowing with an unearthly light as she set her evil spell upon the miller's daughter.

The townsmen grabbed their guns and their pitchforks and ran toward the witch. When she heard the commotion, Bloody Mary broke off her spell and fled back into the woods. The far-sighted farmer had loaded his gun with silver bullets in case the witch ever came after his daughter. Now he took aim and shot at her. The bullet hit Bloody Mary in the hip and she fell to the ground. The angry townsmen leapt upon her and carried her back into the field, where they built a huge bonfire and burned her at the stake.

As she burned, Bloody Mary screamed a curse at the villagers. If anyone mentioned her name aloud before a mirror, she would send her spirit to revenge herself upon them for her terrible death. When she was dead, the villagers went to the house in the wood and found the unmarked graves of the little girls the evil witch had murdered. She had used their blood to make her young again.

From that day to this, anyone foolish enough to chant Bloody Mary's name three times before a darkened mirror will summon the vengeful spirit of the witch. It is said that she will tear their bodies to pieces and rip their souls from their mutilated bodies. The souls of these unfortunate ones will burn in torment as Bloody Mary once was burned, and they will be trapped forever in the mirror.

[Sheezy]

All the creepypasta here suck and i've read them years ago.
Might as well post some of the slightly good ones I have.

Enclosing

I’m so cold. So very cold. There is no warmth left in this room.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. It started about 2 weeks ago, back when I could still see the sun. I live alone, my parents kicked me out after I dropped out of high school…I always hated high school; the teachers, the kids, all of them…Every last one. They don’t understand you, nor will they ever. Friends…I scoff at the idea, they’re just people who act like they care, but turn around to stab you in the back. Deplorable.

As you can tell, I’m not a people person.

Although maybe it wasn’t their fault, considering my sickness.

Oh, did I not mention my sickness? I guess I spaced it. I’ve always had serious mental problems; as far back as I can remember. I get these…weird images in my head. Sick images…images of murder, sickness, and war. From what I’ve been told by people around me when I’ve had my ‘episodes’, mostly teachers, I spasm and throw myself to the floor, scratching and writhing at everything around me screaming all the while. Of course I don’t remember it, all I remember is the images…I doubt I will ever get any of them out of my mind. These ignorant teachers thought I was merely acting out, seeking attention as it were, as did my classmates. I hated them and they hated me, leading to many fights at school. I even sent a few kids into the hospital.

Ah, my youth.

I live in a dingy rental home in the slums of an unimportant city. My parents don’t visit me anymore, and none of my neighbors can stand being around me for more than a few moments. Nobody ever cared about me and nobody ever will, and I’m content with that.

Back to my current predicament; it was only last month when I saw a doctor about my episodes. He diagnosed me with a wide array of mental disorders, none of which I bothered to ask what they meant; all I knew was that I needed pills and he could give me some. I remember him handing me 3 or 4 bottles of pills or various shapes and colors, but I didn’t take them right away. I waited, thinking maybe, just maybe the images were caused by a troubled childhood, and maybe I had matured out of it, but sure enough in a few days, they came back. Self Delete, bombings, and genocide this time. My mind was filled to the brim with disturbing, haunting images; these were some of the worst yet. I was already sobbing in the fetal position by the time my mind comprehended that I might be able to stop this. I couldn’t open my eyes, I didn’t want to see anymore. I remember crawling on my side towards the bathroom, shakily standing up and spilling open my medicine cabinet, spilling the assorted products on the floor. I grasped blindly for the unfamiliar shape of pill bottles, and soon found them. I ripped them open and threw them into my mouth, spilling many on the floor. I collapsed onto the cold tile, losing consciousness. This was a first.

Then, I woke up in my bed. I must’ve thought to myself that I got up and walked into bed, I just didn’t remember it. Maybe. Then it began: I was cold. With my heavy comforter, one of the few things I had invested my small amount of spare money into, should have kept me warm. I always found solace in sleep. I got up and walked into the living room and turned on my TV. Cable was out, should have known. How long had it been since I paid my bills? Still cold, I thought to myself. I walked over to the thermostat and cranked it up, hearing that old familiar sound of the heater pumping warm air. I sat back down, but 15 minutes went by, and I still was cold. I walked over to the heat vent, placing my hand over it; I couldn’t feel any warmth, I couldn’t feel any air coming from the vent, but I could definitely hear it. Ah, my bills, no wonder there was no heat. I could only feel the cold grate of the vent. But then why could I hear it pumping throughout the room?

Might as well call my landlord, I thought to myself, picking up the phone. Dead. “Doesn’t anything in this hell hole work?” I distinctly remember asking myself. It was one of the last things I remember saying out loud. How was I to know what was happening? I walked outside, I don’t remember if it was to grab the morning paper or perhaps to soak up some rays from the sun, but it was at this time I knew something was wrong. It was dead outside. I’m talking Sunday morning in the winter at 4:00 in the morning dead. There was no lights on in the houses, nobody walking outside, no noise. The silence was deafening, cliché as it sounds. I slowly walked back in, afraid to disrupt the perfect silence by too loud of a step. I hadn’t realized till I was back inside, but it was much colder outside then in.

The rest of the day went per usual, watching DVD’s for hours and reading. Only difference was the cold, which by my best efforts I could not stop. Then I went to bed, one of my last moments of peace, even though there was no warmth to be had. The next morning I woke up, against the blaring noise of my alarm clock. Work? No, much too cold. I put my hand on the dresser to turn the alarm clock when I felt it. Searing pain in my palm, my hand lurched off the dresser, bits of flesh ripping off. Cradling my hand under my armpit for warmth, I looked at the dresser. It was covered in a fine layer of frost. No, it wasn’t frost. It was too perfect. It was like….ice, like perfect ice. No cracks, no imperfections; completely perfect ice, nearly covering the entire dresser. Little bits of my skin and flesh were on the top, and a small amount of warm blood dripped from my palm. The warmth made me shiver, I had been so used to the cold of my house. Obviously I was disturbed. I don’t remember spilling a glass of water…no, definitely I hadn’t. I walked out of my room and went to check outside, maybe I could casually talk to one of my neighbors of the cold. Who was I kidding, they would probably throw their gardening item of choice at me and walk inside. Still, I needed to know why it was so cold. I placed my hand on the knob and jumped back. Frozen. I grabbed my comforter and gripped the knob, twisting with all my might. Nothing, not a budge. I threw myself against the door, trying to force it open. Luckily, my poor run-down house had a pretty flimsy door. it flew open and I stumbled outside.

Then I realized I couldn’t move.

My right shoe, the only shoe touching the sidewalk, was frozen to the ground. I could hear the sound of the ice forming the outline of my footprint along the ground. Alarmed, I pulled with all my might, barely ripping my foot free, and fell back inside. There was no wind, and yet the outside brought ghastly cold into my home, even the icy temperature of my house was better than the feeling of cold death outside. I stood up and slammed the door shut, leaving my shoe.

That was the last time I ever went outside.

Since then, everyday has been constant torment. The cold…my god its unbearable. Everyday a little bit more of my home is covered with that perfect ice…less and less of my few commodities can I use. My bed froze solid 2 days ago. Ive resorted to sleeping in the corner of my living room, but soon that wore thin, as my TV, couch, and walls were covered in ice. I didn’t eat for the first few days, terrified. Soon though, I realized I needed nourishment and ran to my fridge. I opened, and felt like a complete moron. How could I any of my food be edible? A fridge storing food at cold temperatures…in a home well below 0 Degrees. Smart. The food, fruits, meats, cheeses, about all I had left were covered in at least in inch of that clear, perfect ice. Almost like glass containers. I would spend hours chipping away at it, then stuffing the remains in my mouth, hoping I could survive just a little longer on the scraps.

Yesterday, my entire upstairs become covered in the ice. I can’t even reach my fridge, much less my door. I gave hope on human contact days ago. In the basement I fled, knowing I couldn’t avoid it anymore.

And finally, we’ve come to today. It’s coating the stairs, and the walls around me are closing in with the ice. I stopped shivering long ago, even my body realized that it’s over, my body systems and organs shutting down one by one. So here I am; trapped in the last bit of my home, my world, not covered in that perfect killer. I’m huddled into the fetal position, retelling this story again and again to myself. The ice is now literally just a few inches away. Huh. I never thought about it, but I’ve never actually watched the ice grow. It’s just covering more space every time I check. I look down and see the ice at my toes. Clever, while I was busy thinking of the ice never moving, it moves.

I’m fading in and out of consciousness, and every time I awake, I slip more and more into the cold embrace of death. Hah. I laugh mildly in my head at my ironic statement. My legs are now enveloped in the ice. At least there is no more running, no more trying to survive. I’m trying to smile but the muscles in my face won’t respond. The ice is now over my stomach and around my arms. I take solace in the fact that my eyes, and more so my mind will be the last to go. Oh, now it’s up to my chin. With the final movements of my eyes, I glance around at my glass coffin. So this is how it ends. My eyes fall back, looking straight ahead. No longer do I feel anything, the ice must be everywhere now.

I’m suddenly remembering the time I sent a kid to the hospital in a 2 week coma.

I pray to god that this is enough for St. Peter to reject my application into Heaven.

I hear Hell is much warmer.

Candle Cove

NetNostalgia Forum - Television (local)

Skyshale033
Subject: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Does anyone remember this kid’s show? It was called Candle Cove and I must have been 6 or 7. I never found reference to it anywhere so I think it was on a local station around 1971 or 1972. I lived in Ironton at the time. I don’t remember which station, but I do remember it was on at a weird time, like 4:00 PM.

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
it seems really familiar to me…..i grew up outside of ashland and was 9 yrs old in 72. candle cove…was it about pirates? i remember a pirate marionete at the mouth of a cave talking to a little girl

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
YES! Okay I’m not crazy! I remember Pirate Percy. I was always kind of scared of him. He looked like he was built from parts of other dolls, real low-budget. His head was an old porcelain baby doll, looked like an antique that didn’t belong on the body. I don’t remember what station this was! I don’t think it was WTSF though.

Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Sorry to ressurect this old thread but I know exactly what show you mean, Skyshale. I think Candle Cove ran for only a couple months in ‘71, not ‘72. I was 12 and I watched it a few times with my brother. It was channel 58, whatever station that was. My mom would let me switch to it after the news. Let me see what I remember.

It took place in Candle cove, and it was about a little girl who imagined herself to be friends with pirates. The pirate ship was called the Laughingstock, and Pirate Percy wasn’t a very good pirate because he got scared too easily. And there was calliope music constantly playing. Don’t remember the girl’s name. Janice or Jade or something. Think it was Janice.

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Thank you Jaren!!! Memories flooded back when you mentioned the Laughingstock and channel 58. I remember the bow of the ship was a wooden smiling face, with the lower jaw submerged. It looked like it was swallowing the sea and it had that awful Ed Wynn voice and laugh. I especially remember how jarring it was when they switched from the wooden/plastic model, to the foam puppet version of the head that talked.

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
ha ha i remember now too. ;) do you remember this part skyshale: “you have…to go…INSIDE.”

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Ugh mike, I got a chill reading that. Yes I remember. That’s what the ship always told Percy when there was a spooky place he had to go in, like a cave or a dark room where the treasure was. And the camera would push in on Laughingstock’s face with each pause. YOU HAVE… TO GO… INSIDE. With his two eyes askew and that flopping foam jaw and the fishing line that opened and closed it. Ugh. It just looked so cheap and awful.

You guys remember the villain? He had a face that was just a handlebar mustache above really tall, narrow teeth.

kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
i honestly, honestly thought the villain was pirate percy. i was about 5 when this show was on. nightmare fuel.

Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
That wasn’t the villain, the puppet with the mustache. That was the villain’s sidekick, Horace Horrible. He had a monocle too, but it was on top of the mustache. I used to think that meant he had only one eye.

But yeah, the villain was another marionette. The Skin-Taker. I can’t believe what they let us watch back then.

kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
jesus h. christ, the skin taker. what kind of a kids show were we watching? i seriously could not look at the screen when the skin taker showed up. he just descended out of nowhere on his strings, just a dirty skeleton wearing that brown top hat and cape. and his glass eyes that were too big for his skull. christ almighty.

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Wasn’t his top hat and cloak all sewn up crazily? Was that supposed to be children’s skin??

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
yeah i think so. rememer his mouth didn’t open and close, his jaw just slid back and foth. i remember the little girl said “why does your mouth move like that” and the skin-taker didn’t look at the girl but at the camera and said “TO GRIND YOUR SKIN”

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
I’m so relieved that other people remember this terrible show!

I used to have this awful memory, a bad dream I had where the opening jingle ended, the show faded in from black, and all the characters were there, but the camera was just cutting to each of their faces, and they were just screaming, and the puppets and marionettes were flailing spastically, and just all screaming, screaming. The girl was just moaning and crying like she had been through hours of this. I woke up many times from that nightmare. I used to wet the bed when I had it.

kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
i don’t think that was a dream. i remember that. i remember that was an episode.

Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
No no no, not possible. There was no plot or anything, I mean literally just standing in place crying and screaming for the whole show.

kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
maybe i’m manufacturing the memory because you said that, but i swear to god i remember seeing what you described. they just screamed.

Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
Oh God. Yes. The little girl, Janice, I remember seeing her shake. And the Skin-Taker screaming through his gnashing teeth, his jaw careening so wildly I thought it would come off its wire hinges. I turned it off and it was the last time I watched. I ran to tell my brother and we didn’t have the courage to turn it back on.

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid’s show?
i visited my mom today at the nursing home. i asked her about when i was littel in the early 70s, when i was 8 or 9 and if she remebered a kid’s show, candle cove. she said she was suprised i could remember that and i asked why, and she said “because i used to think it was so strange that you said ‘i’m gona go watch candle cove now mom’ and then you would tune the tv to static and juts watch dead air for 30 minutes. you had a big imagination with your little pirate show.”

Call Me Tomorrow, Okay?

Still no messages on my phone.

I guess he wasn’t going to call me back after all. I can’t really blame him, maybe I came on a bit too fast yesterday.
I had noticed him long before he noticed me. His shiny black hair and unnatural blue eyes. I wasn’t the only one watching him, that’s for sure. His movements were elegant in a boyish way. And his smile…his smile.
I would die for that smile.
Still no messages…
I thought about calling him, maybe apologize for going too fast yesterday. I’m a coward, I know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dial his number.
Besides he’d promised he’d contact me when he’s ready.

So I’ll wait. I’m patient.

I know, I’ll just casually stroll past his house. Just to see if he’s home. Maybe he’s out, that would explain why he couldn’t call me yet.
He only lives half an hour away anyway. Maybe he’s shy and is scared to call me. Silly boy. I’ll go to him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be scared. That I don’t mind if he needs time.

He lives pretty secluded in a farm on the outskirts of town. I can hear the sheep in the stables as I approach. My heart skips when I see there’s lights burning inside. He must be there, he told me yesterday his parents would be gone for the weekend. They left him to look after the sheep for those days. Poor baby, that must be hard work. He was probably just too busy to call me. I’ll have to stay here until his parents come back and help him take care of all those sheep.

I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he fell asleep. The thought of his beautiful face even more softened by sleep makes me smile. I try the door, it’s unlocked. There’s hardly any crime around here, so I guess locking the door is not needed. I try to be as quiet as possible as I sneak through the house. I want to surprise him. I cringe at every creak the stairs make as I climb them.
Finally I’ve reached the bedroom and I carefully open the door.

There he is, lying in bed as I thought. Quietly I switch on the nightlight on his desk so I can see his face.
His blue eyes are open, staring into space and his whole face is one bloody mess. His cheeks have been carved, the skin mostly removed and hanging loose on the sides of his face. He’s missing his fingernails, they are laid out on the bed carefully arranged. On his bare chest words are carved.

I look at him, my hands covering my mouth.
He’s still the same as I left him yesterday. He must have been so tired that he slept all day. How cute!
I softly kiss his forehead, making sure I don’t wake him. Then I write another message below the one on his chest, letting him know I’m here when he needs me.
I leave the room, heading back outside. I think it’s time for the sheep to go to sleep.
And tomorrow I’ll introduce myself to his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me too.

[Sheezy]

Now for something moderately old.
The Voice

If you ever are in an area of absolute quiet, still your breathing and move not a muscle. After a few seconds, you will notice that the silence has a sort of "sound" of its own, a kind of empty ringing tone. This is nothing unique; everyone will hear this, given the proper setting. An informed person will tell you that your brain is trying to interpret the lack of stimuli to your hearing and so creates a bit of a filler sound. This ringing sound actually serves a more arcane purpose, covering up a noise we are not meant to hear. This noise is not impossible to hear, and if you are persistent you can effectively "break" the cover-up sound.

The next time you are silent and hear the ringing, shout at the top of your lungs for about half a minute, then be abruptly silent. It will be different for everyone. Some will hear nothing different for dozens of tries. Others might pick up soft murmuring. A special few auditory heroes might clearly make it out on the first attempt. What you will hear is a voice that relays an account of events about to happen in the immediate future. It's like a sportscaster relaying the events occurring 10 seconds into the future.

As time goes on, you will be able to make out this voice under increasingly noisy circumstances, to the point that it can be heard at any time by just concentrating. Such ability would doubtlessly be invaluable, no? You will be able react to any immediate danger, relate to people around you with greater ease. No one would ever surprise you. Now, of course you are wondering what sort of horrible catch this ability entails. Perhaps the tone of the voice is so horrible that it will drive you mad, or maybe the voice will only predict your death over and over again.

Of course this isn't the case, though, it’s a normal voice, your ears receive it no matter what, and it’s simply a matter of noticing. But there is a danger. For you see, where there is a voice, there is a body. And just like you will notice new sounds, so shall you notice new sights. More importantly, you will be noticed.

[qevil]

I...I seirously dont get it.

call me tomorrow, ok? is down right disturbing

[Digmaster]

http://data.antonindanek.cz/Harlan%20Ellison-I%20hav%20no%20Mouth%20and%20I%20must%20scream.pdf

Its just freaky

Just remembered <CONTAINS MATURE IMAGERY>

[Sheezy]

http://data.antonindanek.cz/Harlan%20Ellison-I%20hav%20no%20Mouth%20and%20I%20must%20scream.pdf

Its just freaky

I own that book :D
Oh wait that link isn't the actual book ):

[Digmaster]

Its just a short story. Unless you consider like ten pages a book :D

[Sheezy]

It seems like I have no mouth and I must scream: The heavily abridged and badly written edition