The Legend of the Christmas Spider (Creepmas Day 8)

We had went out shopping to some of our local shops this weekend. We ended up at a little furniture boutique in a nearby town that was decorated like no store I have ever seen. This store sales HIGH END furniture to a select clientele that can afford it, but we wanted to see what all they had, especially the decorations. They were selling a beautiful 9 foot tree, fully decorated with crystal snowflakes and silver icicles for $5000 dollars.....so we can assume we are not that target clientele.

M did come across a small white tree that was covered with jeweled spiders. Each spider came with a little slip of paper telling the story of the Christmas Spider. Thanks to M, I am now the proud owner of a Christmas Spider and I now pass the legend on to you. Enjoy!

An old Folk Legend from far away Germany tells us The Legend of the Christmas Spider.  

 Once upon a time, long ago, a gentle mother was busily cleaning the house for the most wonderful day of the year. The day on which the Christ child came to bless the house. Not a speck of dust was left. Even the spiders had been banished from their cozy corner in the ceiling to avoid the housewife's busy cleaning. They finally fled to the farthest corner of the attic.

 Twas Christmas Eve at last! The tree was decorated and waiting for the children to see it. But the poor spiders were frantic, for they could not see the tree, nor be present for the Christ child's visit. The oldest and wisest spider suggested that perhaps they could peep through the crack in the door to see him.  

 Silently they crept out of their attic, down the stairs, and across the floor to wait in the crack in the threshold. Suddenly, the door opened a wee bit and quickly the spiders scurried into the room. They must see the tree closely, since their eyes weren't accustomed to the brightness of the room, so they crept all over the tree, up and down over every branch and twig and saw each one of the pretty things.

 At last they had satisfied themselves completely of the Christmas tree’s beauty, but alas! Everywhere they went they had left their webs, and when the little Christ child came to bless the house he was dismayed. He loved the little spiders, for they were God’s creatures, too, but he knew the mother, who had trimmed the tree for the little children, wouldn't feel the same, so he touched the webs and they all turned to sparkling, shimmering, silver and gold!

Ever since that time, we have hung tinsel on our Christmas trees and, according to the legend, it has been a custom to include a spider among the decorations on the tree.

Throwback Thursday....The Origins of The Wicked Woods Cemetery!

The Wicked Woods Cemetery wasn't always wicked, but it was a cemetery for as long as anyone can recall. Back in the late 1800,s it was nothing more than a quiet little public cemetery tucked back in a grove of oak and walnut trees. In those days it bore the much less sinister title of Shady Grove Cemetery. 

In those days the real occupants of the graves were poor miners, railroad workers, or those that could not afford a proper burial. Headstones were usually poorly carved, sub-standard rock or flimsy wooden constructions that rarely stood the test of time. 

As the mining and railroad industry grew in the area, so did the number of fatalities associated with these jobs. Shady Grove Cemetery was a busy place and often, previous occupants were disturbed when grounds keepers would accidentally dig a new grave over an unmarked and forgotten body. 

Soon, the little cemetery found itself filled to its utmost capacity so the little town opened up a new plot of land with huge rolling acres of space. This beautiful tract of land was to be the towns new Glencoe Cemetery. 

Not surprising, the little Shady Grove Cemetery was soon forgotten with its pitiful wooden and rock headstones. The forest quickly reclaimed it after years of neglect.

As mining boomed, the need for land did as well. Not just for mines themselves, but offices, storage, worker quarters, and equipment yards. So was the fate of the little forgotten cemetery as it was a prime location, all tucked away from the rest of humanity. It was a perfect spot for huge pieces of mining equipment to be repaired and staged. Noxious chemicals could be stored, mixed, and disposed of back in the woods. The bulldozers came and tore down the mighty oaks and the leafy walnuts that had stood guard over the now unmarked graves for years. They flattened the land, disturbing grave after grave in the name of industrial expansion. Soon the little patch of woods was unrecognizable as a woodland area at all, much less a cemetery, as massive piles of equipment, coal, and storage buildings sprung up all over the grounds. 

Business was good for the mine, but not good for the supply yard that had enveloped Shady Grove Cemetery. Accidents were constant at yard. Deaths were common place. Strange noises, and sights were constantly reported and many believed the woods surrounding the yard cursed. Many of the old timers would tell the workers that they were working on top of graves, that they were disturbing the dead on a daily basis, but they would just shrug it off as superstition and go about their way. Still, accidents continued, workers disappeared, unexplained lights, fires, even reports of shadowy people walking about the supply yard at night never detoured the land owners from their daily routines. 

As with all things, there comes an end.,..so was the way of the mines. As they played out, the supply yard slowly emptied and soon nothing was left but a cesspool of rusty equipment, noisome chemicals, and skeletal storage buildings. 

Life continued in the little town and its population grew by leaps and bounds. It wasn't very long till the town turned its sights on the old supply yard and reclamation efforts were exercised. The rusty equipment was hauled off, the chemicals were all neutralized and cleaned, and the storage buildings all torn down and shipped away for scrap. Soon the area was zoned for human occupancy. All through the 70’s, 80's and 90’s little houses popped up and a community soon sat on top of what was once a quiet little cemetery that time forgot.

Call it fate, or hap stance, or even luck (good or bad) but one little house was set right in the middle of where Shady Grave Cemetery had once stood. The new occupant occasionally digs up a tooth, or a chipped grave stone, even a piece of bone here and there as they landscape and make their house a home. For the most part, it is a quiet little house nestled in the shade of old oaks and walnut trees. A peaceful existence is achieved for almost the entire year....until October comes round.

When the leaves turn orange and the nights grow long, the barrier between the living and the dead thins out, letting foul things slip into our world. It is during those times that those woods become truly wicked as the spirits that can never find rest, come forth to shriek and howl at the living.

You would think the occupant of this little house would find this rather disturbing....but instead he find it most intriguing. You see, the current occupant of that little house set back in that little wicked woods is none other than me. Some say that my love of Halloween makes the spirits more active.., and honestly, that is just fine with me.

So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen.... that is how The Wicked Woods Cemetery came about...and how it will continue for years to come!

Happy Birthday Ray Bradbury! (1920-2012)

The spark from your writing has lit an eternal flame of imagination in my mind. 

“That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain.”

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #27

It was late at night as I headed out for a walk in our local park. Insomnia had been plaguing me for the last few days and I was hoping that the cool night air would help me settle down and sleep later
on.

As I traveled around the wooded path near the river gorge, I came upon a woman walking slowly ahead of me. At my current pace, I soon found myself within 15 feet of her. It was then that she turned, briefly, and glanced in my direction. 

She immediately increased her walking speed. Not knowing why she was hurrying, I also began to walk faster.

She turned again, looking in my general direction, and then began to jog. Fearing she had seen something I didn't, I followed her lead and jogged along behind her.

It was at this point she craned her head around and let out a long, terrified scream. She bolted off at a dead run. I was sure she had seen something horrible behind me, so I took off right behind her I was too afraid to look back and see what had frightened her so.

We crashed up the path leading to an overlook of the gorge. She was stumbling by the time she reached the top and threw herself on the railing overlooking the river. She whirled around, eyes wide and insane with fear. She let out a shriek of terror like nothing I had ever heard and then threw herself over the railing onto the jagged rocks some 50 feet below. 

As I reached the railing where she had stood just seconds ago, I couldn't imagine what was behind us that had scared her to the point of killing herself. I turned around to face whatever evil thing had chased us. Whoever or whatever it was, I was going to face it head on….. 

There was nothing there. 

Not a-single sign of anything nearby. Only two sets of foot prints were visible in the fresh mud leading up to the overlook. It was apparent to me that we had been alone on the path the whole time. 

I had to wonder what had driven the poor woman to such extreme actions. Was she insane? Could she have been on medication? I would never know for sure. The world just wasn't a safe place to be anymore. It was full of crazy people and I had the misfortune of running into one tonight. 

It was getting late. I took off the hockey mask I had been wearing and put my machete away in my backpack as I headed home.

One of my short stories is being featured on "Books from Hale" !

 
   Books from Hale is the official website for Author Brandon Hale (author of "Day Soldiers" and the newly released "Purging Fires"). As part of Books from Hale's countdown to Halloween, they are featuring short stories every week from local contributors. I am extremely honored to be among those chosen. Every week I sit in anticipation of the next new story and I amazed that I would be counted among the great works of literature that have been posted there. Check it out HERE!

   While you are there it would be the perfect time to pick up "Day Soldiers" or "Purging Fires", excellent reads for this time of year. 

For a chance to win your very own signed copy of "Day Soldiers", enter my giveaway HERE. Keep in mind, Monday starts double entry week for any posts done!

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #26

*A wealthy real estate owner lies on an operating table as he prepares for an extremely expensive face lift and Rhinoplasty surgery. After amassing his immense wealth, the years had not been kind to him in looks, so he had decided to take a chunk of those massive earnings and look as rich as he felt. At 61 years old, he was going to turn back the clock by a decade or two, no matter what the cost. An anesthesiologist walks in to prep his long surgical procedures. *

Anesthesiologist: Hey there, I will be your anesthesiologist for today’s procedures. Looking at your chart, you seem to be getting a lot of work done all at once. You know there is a slight risk involved with all that being done at once for a gentleman of your age?

Wealthy patient: Oh yes, the doctor explained it to me, but I am not much on waiting. I want it all over and done with as soon as possible so I can enjoy my life as the new me. Besides, the doctor said it was only about 1% risk for all the procedures.

Anesthesiologist: Yes, that is true. If you are sure, I will go ahead and prep you for your procedures.

Wealthy patient: I have been waiting for this for years so please let’s proceed.

*The anesthesiologist begins pulling out an array of hypodermic needles and vials. As he primes the gas mask, he strikes up a conversation with the man.*

Anesthesiologist: All this work you are having done today carries a staggeringly high price tag. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for a living?

Wealthy patient: I am in the real estate business.

Anesthesiologist: Wow, you must be really good at your job to afford this luxury surgery.

Wealthy patient: Oh I am not that good. I just bought property extremely low and sold it for a killing.

Anesthesiologist: Do you ever have trouble buying properties? I can only assume some of the people you buy from do not wish to sell for a low price, or sell at all for that matter.

Wealthy patient: Yes, there is the occasional thorn in my side. I usually just pressure them into the sell, or I find a loop hole in their deed and I am able to buy the property out from under them.

Anesthesiologist: I think you do not give yourself enough credit, you sound like you are very good at your job. What happens to those people you evict in that manner?

*The anesthesiologist begins filling a large hypo with a powerful local anesthetic as he continues to talk to the man.*

Wealthy patient: Who knows?  I guess they either move on and find another place to live or they get left by the wayside and life marches over them. Either way, it is not my concern.

Anesthesiologist: I suppose you're right. Ok now, I am going to start the local injection to your face. First I will be putting a general anesthetic into your IV to calm you down and help with the overall pain. Don’t be alarmed if you can’t move your limbs as it is perfectly natural.

*He injects the drug into the IV. True to his word, the man on the table feels a warm tingly sensation and cannot move his arms or legs.*

Anesthesiologist: OK, that was not too bad was it?

Wealthy patient: Nosh too bads. I feelsh funny all oversh.

Anesthesiologist: Yes, that is absolutely normal. I am now going to start injecting your face. When I do, you are going to be unable to talk at all. After that, we will put you under with the gas, are you ready?

Wealthy patient: Yesh! Bringz on the newsh me!

*The anesthesiologist is a master at his trade and soon the man’s face is completely numb and immobile, only the man’s eyes show any signs of movement.*

Anesthesiologist: There now, all done except for the gas. While I have you here, I wanted to tell you a story. This story is of a boy who grew up an orphan on the streets with no home. This boy lost his home and his mother when a ruthless real estate tycoon paid some officials off at city hall to steal their home right out from under them. They were homeless and his mother eventually died from pneumonia trying to keep her son alive on the streets. Luckily, the boy beat the odds and grew up to make something of himself. That boy became a renowned anesthesiologist working for one of the highest paid plastic surgeons in the US. He lived a very normal life except for the undying need for vengeance against the man who caused his mother’s death.

*The man on the table stares back at him. His eyes widen with terror as he is unable to react in any other way.*

Anesthesiologist: It is true that only 1% that undergo this combination of procedures die, but did you know it was usually a reaction to the anesthesia? I bet until just now, you thought being part of the 1% was a great thing? Well, I am sorry to say, you will not be waking up from this surgery. Welcome to the 1%......you are about to become a statistic.

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #25

*Two strangers are sitting in the very back of a crowded  LAX to ATL flight. Half way through their 6 hour trip, boredom kicks in and they start up idle conversation*

Bored passenger: I really hate to fly. I am terrified of it.

Jovial passenger: Not me. I love it. Why do you hate it so?

Bored passenger: All the risks of what can go wrong. Missed flights, lost luggage, illness. Plus the feeling of being confined in this tight space...like being trapped in a small room! Not to mention, I have been living in fear of terrorist since 9/11.

Jovial passenger: Well as for me, I like the confined space. It helps to contain the possible chaos. I thrive on the chaos! The possibility for something horrible to go wrong is my bread and butter. It’s almost like gambling for high stakes for me. You really shouldn’t worry about bombs and such. They have so many new tech gadgets out there that it is near impossible for that to happen anymore.

Bored passenger: Oh? Is that so? Do you know  much about these things?

Jovial passenger: Oh yes, in fact, I have studied airport security for years now. I know every piece of hardware they use, what can and can’t get on board, and all their procedures.

Bored passenger: Wow, you sound like a master criminal or a terrorist ha ha. You don’t intend to blow us all up do you? Ha ha?

Jovial passenger: Oh good heavens no! Never anything so crass as that! A bomb would never make it onto the plane my good man.

*The jovial man continues the conversation as he shuffles his feet to reveal a small duffel bag between them.*

Jovial passenger: Take for example my carry on bag. It passes through 15 sensors at least before coming on the plan with me. It passes by bomb sniffing dogs and machinery. Even a simple metal detector would catch it if I were bringing a bomb on board.

Bored passenger: I see. You really do know your stuff.

Jovial passenger: I do indeed. Let’s say I wanted to create chaos and I was one of these “terrorist” as you asked earlier. I would have to mastermind a plan to get something terribly damaging, disrupting, and potentially deadly on this plane, all condensed down to the size of my duffel bag at my feet. Now, let’s say I beat the 1 out of 100 chance of getting my “chaos package” on board the plane without being searched. I would then have to find a way to deliver this terrible payload remotely without hurting myself. Maybe even placing the blame on another passenger so that in the unlikely event this “chaos package” did not bring the plane down, it would leave me free and alive to do it again another day. It blows the mind how all of this could come together as a plan. Wouldn’t you say so?

*The grinning man pats the duffel bag at his feet reassuringly*

Bored passenger: Uhh….yeah…if you say so. I honestly do not know if I should feel reassured or terrified.

Jovial passenger: Oh come now, don’t be silly! I was just having a bit of fun with you. Things like that only happen in the movies and in books. Now, if you will excuse me.... my in flight meal is not sitting comfortably with me and I must be excused for about 15 minutes to the rest room.

*The grinning man gets up and heads to the nearby rest room, leaving his duffel in the floor. He enters the lavatory and locks the door behind him, leaving one very worried and confused passenger sitting alone. The remaining passenger talks to himself nervously as he continues to eye the duffel bag with dread.*

Bored passenger: There is nothing in there……he was just pulling my leg. There really is tight security at airports. That man was just having some fun with me at my own expense. ……DAMNIT!  That duffel bag looks like it's bursting at the seams full! What if he really is a crazed terrorist and he managed to get something on board that could hurt us?

*Curiosity and worry get the best of him. He figures a quick peek for his peace of mind will not hurt anything so he reaches down and slides the duffel bag over to his feet. He grabs the zipper as he notices that the bag is vibrating strangely! Fear takes over as he grabs for the zipper. He is shocked when the zipper pops off in his hands as if it were designed to do just that, leaving no way to reseal the bag and leaving it fully opened. Ice cold horror seeps into his very soul as he sees the contents of the bag!*

The Ghosts of Williams Hollow Road.

   For those of you that are regular readers of my blog, you will recall that I live in the country farmlands of Virginia. This area is littered with old hollows or "hollers" as locals call them. Many of them have frightful histories of murder, monsters, and ghosts stories. Williams Hollow Road is one such place.

   Our tale takes place during the late 1930's to early 1940's. Unfortunately most of the facts of this story have faded with time. I can't be sure of exact dates or names but only the heart of the legend itself.
    There was a family that had lived back on Williams Hollow for many years. They were reclusive people that did not get out and around the other township often. This was due mostly in part to the couples only son.

   He was reported to be ," Monstrous in both his looks and his actions". The young boy was somehow hideously deformed and most likely shunned and shamed by his own family. Living way back in the hollow gave them some protection from outside ridicule.

   The town of Big Stone Gap known for it's iron and coal mining, and as such attracted many job seekers from the north. One such family had relocated to this area for just such a reason. This new family consisted of a hard working father who had ties to the railroad, a loving mother, and their beautiful daughter of age 6. They purchased a plot of land at the far end of Williams Hollow and started their new life.
   As it was, the "monster boy" was intrigued by this new family who set up housekeeping in his neck of the woods, especially the young daughter. He was fascinated and confused by this new family. Their actions, laughter, and love made him both eager to learn more, and angry that he had never had such a life. The more he watched this family from the darkness of the surrounding woods, the more he longed to be involved. On one such occasion, he found the little girl playing alone and approached her. She was frightened by his hideous appearance and screamed for her father. He ran the "monster boy" off with a few firm lashes from a hedge switch. This of course, did not set well with the mentally unstable boy.
   The "monster boy" kept watching the family and the little girl from the safety of the forest as his anger grew. One day he found the little girl walking alone down Williams Hollow Road. She may have been headed into town, to the general store near Cadet, or just down to the river to play. The only thing to be certain of was she was alone, and being followed by one very confused creature.

  The family never saw their daughter again. Her bloody clothes were located by the river at the end of the road where apparently the backwards boy had beaten and then drowned the poor child. As the story goes, the father of the little girl went into a rage, located the "monster boy" and beat him to death in the woods where he found him. 

    That would be the end of a very tragic tale if it were not for the multiple sightings of ghosts on the road to this very day. 

    Williams Hollow Road is a popular parking spot for teenagers looking to escape the watchful eyes of parents. Many have reported feeling something watching them from the trees. Others have even seen a small child like apparition walking down the hollow. The small ghost seems to almost be walking backwards as if the spirit feels the presence of something watching and following it down the road. This leads many people to believe that the spirit of the slain child is forever being stalked to the river by the cruel ghost of the deformed boy who killed her. Perhaps the feeling of being watched is the ghost of the "monster boy" looking into the cars with envy and a little anger at the normal people who invade his home? 

   I have had this story sitting on my computer for almost a year now. I had intended to post it closer to Halloween, but as fate would have it, I received an email from a local resident, Sarah Chandler, who stumbled upon my Blog while searching for this very legend. Sarah went on to recount an experience from one of her friends :

"My friend's sister's boyfriend walked in on us telling ghost stories one night and said, "Why tell stories when you can see the real thing". So we all loaded up in the car and headed to Williams Hollow Road. He drove us all the way up the dark road until it ended and then turned around. About a quarter of the way down he stopped and said to wait a few and look up the embankment. We waited about 15 mins and you could see this thing walking down the embankment. The closer it got the more it looked like a child. The child looked in the opposite direction the whole way down until it got beside the car. As soon as it did it looked over at us. I was so scared that I just kept hitting the car seat and screaming go go go....."

"A few weeks later I was telling a close friend of mine this story. He said that his dad told him that when he was younger he would go there parking and it felt as if someone was watching him..."

   Thank you Sarah for sharing with us. So, is Williams Hollow Road truly haunted? There is only one sure way to find out. Just head down to Williams Hollow at night, park your car, and keep your eyes open. You never know what you might find.....or.......what might find you!

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #24

*Two lifelong friends are taking a much needed getaway in the Appalachia Mountains at a private cabin. They have told family and friends alike they are away on business so they will not be disturbed and they can truly be away from modern day issues like cell phones, TV, and politics. It's just past midnight and the friends are in a heated debate over life after death.*

Practical friend: You cannot make me believe there are such a thing as ghost, no matter how hard you try!

Believing friend: How can you say that? I have seen things with my own eyes that make me a believer. Have you seen things that make you certain they don’t exists?

Practical friend: There would be proof by now if there was such a thing. Modern science would have found a way to reveal them.

Believing friend: Not true. Animals, that scientist have thought dead for thousands of years , are discovered every day in remote parts of the world. Ghosts are so far removed from this world, they could not possibly know how to find them, but ghosts do exist.

Practical friend: Listen, I am a man deeply rooted in reality. I have studied almost every NCIS tv show and forensic science special known to man. With all the grizzly murders that happen every day, would you not think that the vengeful spirits would haunt those murderers? Especially those that get away with it?

Believing friend: Who's to say they don’t? Maybe these murders are haunted to the point of insanity by the ghosts, or the ghosts come back and “get them” that is why they are never found out by the police. Maybe the nature of a murderer makes them so evil that they cannot see a ghost at all.

Practical friend: That is completely preposterous!

Believing friend: Prove that I am wrong then!

*The unbelieving friend reached into his pocket and pulls out a small pistol. In the blink of an eye he squeezes off 5 shots into the chest of his friend. The mortally wounded man slumps out of his chair and onto the floor as he stares up at his murderer. Still holding the gun, the deadly friend gets on his knees and lowers his head down to the dying man’s ear, as if to wihisper.*

Practical friend: No my dear friend….you prove me wrong!..........I will be waiting.

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #23

*A frustrated father slams the bedroom door of his twelve year old daughter as he leaves her room. The daughter can still be heard crying softly as he returns to his bedroom and his waiting wife, who is already in bed. He starts pacing back and forth as he vents to his wife.*

Frustrated father: I’m telling you this whole “scary ghost woman” thing has to stop. Every night it is the same thing. She sees her outside her window or outside her door and she threatens to take her soul and hurt her parents! It’s very frustrating! Our daughter is going to be the death of me.

Consoling mother: I’m sorry honey. I am sure she will grow out of it soon.

Frustrated father: Not soon enough. She is already too old for this kind of thing!

Consoling mother: Just be patient dear.

Frustrated father: This has gone on every night since we moved into this place. Over two months now!

Consoling mother: Honey…..I need to ask you some questions….. and I want you to answer me very calmly. Just stand perfectly still, look at me, and answer me in a very normal tone……. Ok?

Frustrated father: Ok? I guess.

Consoling mother: Good….. now…..did she ever mention to you…..what this…ghost woman…..looked like exactly?

Frustrated father: Yeah all the time why?

Consoling mother: Did the woman she see……have crazy looking eyes….each a different color?

Frustrated father: Yes she did mention that.

Consoling mother: Did….this….woman have….sores on her face?

Frustrated father: Oh yes, she always mentions that.

Consoling mother: Would she ……happen to have…..crooked yellow teeth and scraggly, greasy hair?

Frustrated father: Dear lord honey, you have just described the “scary ghost woman” our daughter has been seeing every night. Do you know somebody like that?

Consoling mother: ……No…….

Frustrated father: Then how did you know what she looks like?

Consoling mother: Because she is sneaking up on you from the hallway right now!

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #22

* A young man who was on an Amazon conservation expedition had found 2 injured blue macaws in a poacher’s camp. These rare birds are sought after by poachers to sell as high dollar pets. He nursed them back to health and, due to his work background, was allowed to keep the now domesticated rare birds for himself. He planned on heading back to his parent’s house in America so he has them shipped ahead of his visit. He sends a message to his parents explaining how rare the birds are and one is for them and he will keep the other. A few days later, the young man arrives from his long journey at his parent’s home. *

Mother: Oh honey, you are so late, we thought you weren’t going to get here.

Young man: There was a delay at the gate and we sat on the runway for 2 hours! It is so good to see you!

Mother: Well dinner is almost cold! Come sit down and let’s eat and we can talk all about it!

*The young man and his mother enter the dinning room where his father is already seated at the table preparing for dinner. The young man takes a seat at the table.*

Father: Good to see you son! I was afraid I was going to have to eat without you!

Young man: Never fear! I am here now and we can let the feast begin.

*The mother quickly brings out steaming hot bowls of delicious smelling food as the family makes idle chit chat. *

Young man: So father, did you all get the birds I sent?

Father: Sure did! Boy they were some loud ones. We haven’t seen live birds since I was a boy back on the farm.

Young man: Did you manage them ok? I tried to get here fast so you would not have to deal with them long.

Father: Oh yes, we had no problems at all.

Young man: I would love to see them.

Father: Well, here they are now!

Shockingly Sinister Shorts #21

*A woman is happily preparing some apples to bake into pies. She can't find the cinnamon and is diligently digging in the back of her cabinets to see if she has any, but alas she is out. Her doorbell rings as she finishes the futile search. Answering the door, she finds her next door neighbor. He is a very strange man that keeps to himself mostly, which she preferred because he gave her a general unsettling feeling. Whenever she notices him around the neighborhood, he always seems to be staring at her in a very odd manner.*

Baking woman: Well hello there. Can I help you?

Neighbor: I couldn’t help but notice from the smell coming from your kitchen that you are making pies. I could smell them from my back porch.

Baking woman: Oh? You could tell that from the smell?

Neighbor : Yes and I could tell you did not have enough cinnamon in them so I brought you some over.

Baking woman: Wow! You must have one super nose to detect that. Here, let me pay you for that. I insist.

*Not wishing to be rude she beckons for the man to enter into the living room. She hurries off to get her purse to pay for the cinnamon because she did not want to have a debt with this very odd fellow. She quickly returns to the living room to find the man looking though her movie collection.*

Baking woman: Here we go. Five dollars should cover it.

Neighbor: Thanks...... I hate to impose, but could I borrow this movie here?

Baking woman: Well, I was watching that last night and got too sleepy to finish it so I cut it off, but I suppose you can.

Neighbor: Oh I know, I was watching it with you and I was really into it.

Baking woman: What? How were you watching it with me?

Neighbor: I noticed you starting the movie so I sat down by your back window.

Baking woman: You were what? Why were you doing that?

Neighbor: I didn’t want to bother you and it looked like a good movie so I just pulled up a lawn chair outside your window and watched it ….. with you.

Baking woman: That is just creepy! You did not watch the movie with me! You sat outside my window and watched me watch a movie! I think that is over the line! You should not do that to people!

Neighbor: I am sorry, I truly am.

Baking woman: Being sorry is not ok! That just bothers me. You have no right to do that to me. That’s probably how you knew I was out of cinnamon, you were watching me bake! That is just as bad as sneaking in my house at night and watching me sleep! 

Neighbor: About that…You really should have a doctor check out that mole on your lower back……