VELCOME MORTALS TO HEXBEARS HYELLOVEEN SCARETACULAR- cough
Gather around the campfire and listen to my story, and then share your own in the comments below. The only condition is that it better be pants poopingly spooky or else the poop ghost will getcha!
He wants your poooooooOooop
Our story begins in a graveyard. It was getting dark and Morty the groundskeeper was about to leave after doing a routine inspection of the cemetery grounds. As he walked to the gate and reached out to push it open, he heard a faint whisper, as if someone was standing behind him, but he couldn’t quite make out the words being said.
His turned to the direction where the sound had come from, but saw nothing. “Is someone there?” He asked loudly. No reply. He began to get slightly annoyed. If some teens were hoping to trash the place after dark, he didn’t want to deal with it. He shrugged and decided it was a problem for security.
He began to push the gate again and as he did, he heard another sound, right behind him. This time, it sounded like running footsteps. He whipped around quickly.
“What the hell?!”
Nobody was there, but there was a shoe, sticking out of the mud, just a few feet behind him. He stared, it was starting to get pretty dark now, but it was definitely a shoe. He carefully walked over and picked it up. Yeah, a large mens dress shoe. So it wasn’t teens. A homeless man, maybe? No, a homeless man wouldn’t mess with him like this, right? And it was too nice a shoe. Maybe the shoe had been left by an earlier visiter during the day, he thought.
“But then how do you explain the sound of running feet?” A voice said, clear as day behind him. He spun around. Again, no one was there.
“Ok you can stop messing with me now, cut it out. It’s closing time.” Morty said, admittedly not as assertive as he wanted to sound.
But whoever the voice belonged to didn’t seem to hear. It suddenly spoke again, sounding almost like a host enquiring to an audience,
“And what of the whispering he heard before?” It asked.
“Where the… Heck is that coming from?” Morty grumbled as he looked all around, his eyes fell upon some of the graves nearby, and his blood ran cold
“And how then do you explain the man emerging from the grave?” The voice said.
Morty screamed. Climbing out of the grave dirt, halfway out of the ground to his waist was TV sensation Johnathan Frakes.
“We got you.” he said with a cheeky smile.
This isn’t that scary but it’s real and spooked me at the time. Two years ago I was on a date and I was driving us up a wooded mountain road to an overlook late at night. We were looking forward to the view because it was a moonless night and we’d be overlooking our town, but yeah just pitch black out. I’m driving pretty slow given the type of road and conditions, lots of turns and switchbacks yknow. Anyways we round a corner and on the side of the road is this huge hideous creature. It is pale, at least 6 feet long, 4 legged but standing on its hind legs, with wrinkly skin and no discernible fur. My first thought was that it was a mangy bear, but it was larger than the black bears we have here and some of its features and movements were absolutely unlike any bear I’ve seen. Its legs were less thick and structured more like those of a dog or cat that had been scaled up. Its face also didn’t look like it had a snout, but was more human like almost? I don’t know how to describe it but it was ugly, unnatural, and terrifying. It looked towards us as we rounded the corner, then turned quickly with an action I can only describe as a snapping motion and ran into the bushes adjacent to it. Overall the interaction was only a few seconds but I think about it every time I drive or hike in that area. I tell myself it was a bear with some sort of skin disease but deep down I don’t believe that at all. Anyway we had a nice time at the overlook after that, but every rustle and snap we heard that night had me on edge lol
Once I stopped in a subway and I hate all the sudden choices you gotta make so I usually just focus on some sort of meal deal on the menu and stick to it, which is how I ended up with some sort of sandwich drenched in sweet chilli sauce. There are alot of things which my shitty genetics has decided to punish me for eating but that sugar filled syrup is my mortal nemesis, this sandwich is my world killer. I still eat it though, because every aftermath from consuming it is so bad that I basically turn into a feral animal, slipping only back into consciousness when the macrobiome regains control of the micro, plus I just got peer-pressured into paying five quid for this sandwich Im gonna eat it.
I dont even get halfway through my foot long chicken filled hyper-laxative before my gastric system attempts to depart my torso, at this point the IBS blinders slip on and I am suddenly completely removed of all social anxiety, I am prepared to shit in a bucket in front of the whole store and god if it will allow me to return to the pretence that I am in control of my own bodily functions (and finish the rest of the sandwich). In this tiny subway there is only one door, right in front of the extremely long queue of people waiting to pay too much for not-bread and horrifically square meat. It has bathroom signs on it, but there is no way this door that a couple of teenagers are currently leaning against is the bathroom surely? They may as well have put windows in so the unwilling spectators could get a good look at the horrors they are hearing.
I do not care, I am a meat machine born to shit, I rush the teenagers leaning against the door, scattering them in my wake as I slam the door shut and turn to discover there is no lock.
There is no lock
For a moment I fall back on my instinctual irish catholic childhood and begin to categorically list all the transgressions against the Pope that could have led me into this tiny section of hell. Is it friday? Is this because I ate meat on a friday? Why dont I know what day it is? Jesus Sam you need to get your life together. Then Gut-Brain resumes control and my world narrows to the disabled friendly toilet that is dangerously far from this unlocked door. If it swings open, I will be at the mercy of the non-shitters beyond that door. Forever haunted by the smug denial and hatred as they turn their disgust for their own base needs outward on to me, they will put me down like the animal I am and I will welcome it.
In this moment I am the most in tune with my own body as I will ever be. My muscles sing with power as I perform the shameful act. My eyes see clearly now, I do not just see a door rattling in the breeze, I see the ancient wooden soul trapped within, and it sees me. I am in its mercy, in this moment it would be so easy for it to yield to the wind that buffets it everytime another queue obsessed Anglo enters this slophouse and expose me to the world entire. I am part of the cancer that killed its kind and it would only be just in taking its revenge on me, even as I silently plead for the opposite I know this is true.
The door begins to shake violently, more than just mere wind, someone is trying to get in. I yell and scream and plead and beg with the stranger on the other side of the door not to enter, but they are deaf to my cries. Perhaps they are not a man at all, but another walking vessel for the hunger that drove me down this dark path, seeking their own escape. My only saving grace is the broken nature of the door, the very thing that caused this whole mess in this first place. Unseen forces batter that door and jiggle the handle, they even succeed at one point, the seal cracks and the world burns, but only for a moment. I slam the door shut and abandon that moment to the void, I excise that reality and form a new one where the door remained closed and I can still pretend to be human.
The ordeal has passed, I carefully rebuild my facade of decency as I wash my hands and destroy the evidence. Now that the forebrain has regained control, the oceanic fear of the judgement of strangers comes rushing back in. Surely they heard my pleas, surely they know.
But as I open the bathroom door, braced to be beaten by a mob of retched sallow cheeked Liverpudlians for my crimes, I see nothing but the barely held but tamped down rage of the average English Queue Enjoyer. All is bliss in the court of Subway, I stumble out into the cold air and rejoin my friends. Are they my friends anymore? I have aged a lifetime in that bathroom, I am a different man from when I entered, a broken man. When I enquire about the door, they look at me in puzzlement.
“No one was at the door, and we didnt hear anything”
Did I imagine the whole thing? Was it some vision of a darker world, a message to change my ways before it was too late?
I begin to eat my sandwich.
A short but fun kids-are-scary story.
When our oldest was 1-2yo, we were reading some Halloween themed picture book and having them point at the pictures.
“Where is the bat?”
points at bat on page
“That’s right! Now where is the skeleton?”
points at skeleton on page
“Great! Now where is the ghost?”
instantly turns and points over my shoulder towards the empty corner of the room
“…heh, how about the ghost in the book buddy…”
points at ghost on page
Ah a classic.
Also love how dogs bark at nothing and cats hiss. This was superfun when home alone as a kid.
There was once a skeleton. It did, a scary dance.
A spectre is haunting Europe… the spectre of communism.
THEN WHO WAS PHONE
man door hand hook car door
A classic. Bless Bogleech.
okay i have a true story to tell
so i was driving home, late at night, after finishing a shift at the bar i worked in, hungry and tired from work. so i dont know what i actually saw.
but while i was driving, something scuttled across the road in front of me. it was really weird, and i couldnt see very well because it was at the edge of my headlights. but it looked to be a meter tall, with two very long skinny legs, like a heron or something, and a small round torso. so, could have been a heron, there are some of those around - but it ran on its legs in a way that birds dont. like, it scittered across the road like a person. birds dont run that fast, and herons certainly dont.
it was probably a dog or something, and i just didnt see right, because, like i said, i was hungry, tired, and irritated from work, and it was dark. but the way it moved was very weird.
maybe it was some kind of homunculus
this is a professional sketch artist’s rendition of what I saw that night
Fresno Nightcrawler?
Seems like a birb to me. They can be very fast.
I know a scary story that easily beats Lovecraft’s work, that involves a voracious, life-destroying, insatiably hungry entity that has billions of thralls, millions of high priests, yet for all the prayer and prophecy put forward by such devotees, is utterly indifferent to such lowly creatures and continues to consume and destroy and expand.
Once upon a time I was poopin so I head to Hex dot bear for some quality entertainment…
504 gateway timeout
Boo!
I have a true story from when I was a kid.
So I grew up on an island on a remote farm. The only way to get there was with a ferry and we often had to come home alone in the dark after hobbies or school.
One night I was biking home from the ferry along the dark forest road. I had a hard time seeing where I was because my bike light was broken. The only light was moonlight that just barely allowed me to see where the side of the road was, I was all alone.
Then, all of a sudden, even that smallest light just went out. It felt like someone flipped a switch. It got so dark that I was no longer able to see where I was going and it freaked me out so bad. It felt like I wasn’t alone and like there was someone behind me.
When I finally made my way all the way to our farm road, I was very scared. I started to see better coming out of the forest, so I started driving faster. It still felt like there was someone behind me.
When I got very close to home, maybe 400 meters away or so, I clearly felt something crab my bike from behind. This force or whatever it was, started pushing my bike, it felt so strong. I panicked and just drove like the wind. Once I got to the front of our old farmhouse I had difficulties stopping because the push from behind felt so strong.
I forced the bike to fall to one side and ran inside as fast I could, never daring to look behind me.
Oh and here’s one more from when I was around 18 years old.
At the time my family was staying in a different old farmhouse that was home to old relatives who had farmed and kept dairy cows there for a long long time. One of these older relatives had died long ago and the whispers around the family were that he had been a very bad man.
The farmhouse always had stories of being haunted, but we got to experience the things firsthand in the few months we spent there. It was an incredibly spooky place.
The story was that this bad man had spent time sitting in the old cattle kitchen drinking. This old room was next to the old barn where the cows had lived and in very bad shape by the time we were there. It also housed the farm sauna washing area that was still in use when we were there.
One night we all went to the sauna in turns, I went by myself around midnight. I already felt spooked being there by myself, but told myself to grow up and proceeded with the bathing.
I went to the sauna and as I sat on the sauna stairs in silence, there suddenly was footsteps above me. They sounded like heavy boots with hard soles and they were clearly in the attic above me. They went from one end to the other, in a slow pace. Stopping every so often. Almost like whoever it was stopped to listen.
I sat there thinking that my dad or maybe one of my uncles had gone up there to find something. But felt increasingly uneasy being there. I quickly finished my sauna and went into the house to ask who had been up there.
Nobody said they had been, they were sitting in the living room watching tv. At this time I was also reminded that most of the barn attic no longer had a floor. Nobody could have walked there without falling down.
Later we all saw how the barn kitchen light would flicker on and off by itself sometimes. It was a fixture that wasn’t supposed to get any power. The same sauna room was right next to it that I had been in. I never went to the sauna there again.
One time I also went to the house attic there to browse old newspapers. The door latch up to the attic had been closed from the other side while I was there. Nobody ever admitted to closing it on me. It was always said that the attic was also a spooky place.
I have the scariest story to tell you (warning: very scary):
spoiler
BOO!
gotcha
listen I said tell a scary story but that was too grotesque even for me wtf man
Please stop scaring me.
No
Nobody was there, but there was a shoe, sticking out of the mud, just a few feet behind him.
Maybe the shoe was from one kf those feet
Look I can’t use the metric system or the Americans will get too scared!
True spooky story when my family’s old dog was getting old one time me and my dad were walking her around the block and we were walking slowly cos she was going old and blind, so I asked my dad how far she could see and he replied ‘Oh only a few yards’ (by which he meant a few metres, he also used to say his weight in stone) and I was like in my head ‘oh she can see a few (back)yards’ distance that’s not too bad’ so I didn’t actually know how limited her vision was until i was a teen and learnt that a yard is 3 feet
THAT’S WHAT A YARD IS?!?!
Yupp, also why they call those funny tall beer glasses yard glasses cos they’re roughly a yard long
