Time for a tale of terror and creepiness so foul it will leave your soul frozen in trepidation. Turn out the lights, bar the doors, and make sure your windows are locked. For after this tale, you will never feel safe again.
Mwaha- Mwhahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!!!!!!
It was Saturday night and Tim and I had just finished enjoying the thrilling scariness of Wes Craven's werewolf movie, Cursed. It was a good movie, witty, smart, and at times, quite frightening. But this, children, is not the center of my terrifying story. Oh no, there's more. Come, lets move to the balcony to discuss it further . . .
Tim and I sat on the balcony discussing the movie, I in my usual chair in front of the closet, and Tim in his usual chair next to the pond. The night was quiet, warm, and balmy with the occasional cricket chirp and the steady drone of air conditioning units the only sound, save the occassional car driving by on the nearly abandoned road. As we were debating the finer points of successful horror film story-telling a small noise caught my attention. Suddenly, the door to the closet behind me opened.
Me, jumping up and spinning around to face the door: "What the fuck!?"
Tim, also standing now: "Close it!"
The door had only opened a few inches, but I quickly pushed it shut again. However, I remained standing, this time further away, staring at it.
Me: "OK, that is some freaky shit. Especially since we just watched that movie." Immediately images of werewolves tearing through the closet door to devour us popped into mind.
Tim: "I know. Weird. It must not've been shut all the way. Or maybe the foundation shifted."
Me: "Must be. Yeah, that's probably all it is. Or maybe it's an 800 year-old Indian ghost attached to the ancient clay jar mom gave me."
Tim: "Or maybe the Ouija's back!"
Me, with a devilish grin: "Maybe."
The door opened again.
Me, ready to bolt inside: "Jesus Christ Monkey Balls!!"
Tim, standing closer to me and further from the closet: "What the hell?!!"
Me: "Your turn to close it!"
So Tim crept over, put his hand up to the door and . . .
. . . Closed it. He also put a chair under the door knob, you know, just to be safe.
Tim, turning back to me: "You sure you closed it all the way last time?"
Me: "Positive."
We both never took our eyes off the door.
We felt like kids again, creeped out beyond reason by phenomena that really only made sense if there were unreal monsters causing them. We stared blankly at each other trying to make sense of the situation, savoring the delicious fear that had sent adrenaline coursing through our veins. Yet at the same time, the atmosphere created by the movie and the door's activity coinciding in such a way was fun, like a surprise haunted house. You know it's nothing paranormal, but somewhere, in the deepest recesses of your imagination plays the child who is the suspension-of-disbelief master. Right then, in my mind, he was screaming. He was making such a ruckus that the rest of my mind doubted its own knowledge that there was really nothing in there.
Me, being melodramatic: "Fuck it, I'm going inside."
Tim: "Right behind you."
Mwaha- Mwhahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!!!!!!
It was Saturday night and Tim and I had just finished enjoying the thrilling scariness of Wes Craven's werewolf movie, Cursed. It was a good movie, witty, smart, and at times, quite frightening. But this, children, is not the center of my terrifying story. Oh no, there's more. Come, lets move to the balcony to discuss it further . . .
Tim and I sat on the balcony discussing the movie, I in my usual chair in front of the closet, and Tim in his usual chair next to the pond. The night was quiet, warm, and balmy with the occasional cricket chirp and the steady drone of air conditioning units the only sound, save the occassional car driving by on the nearly abandoned road. As we were debating the finer points of successful horror film story-telling a small noise caught my attention. Suddenly, the door to the closet behind me opened.
Me, jumping up and spinning around to face the door: "What the fuck!?"
Tim, also standing now: "Close it!"
The door had only opened a few inches, but I quickly pushed it shut again. However, I remained standing, this time further away, staring at it.
Me: "OK, that is some freaky shit. Especially since we just watched that movie." Immediately images of werewolves tearing through the closet door to devour us popped into mind.
Tim: "I know. Weird. It must not've been shut all the way. Or maybe the foundation shifted."
Me: "Must be. Yeah, that's probably all it is. Or maybe it's an 800 year-old Indian ghost attached to the ancient clay jar mom gave me."
Tim: "Or maybe the Ouija's back!"
Me, with a devilish grin: "Maybe."
The door opened again.
Me, ready to bolt inside: "Jesus Christ Monkey Balls!!"
Tim, standing closer to me and further from the closet: "What the hell?!!"
Me: "Your turn to close it!"
So Tim crept over, put his hand up to the door and . . .
. . . Closed it. He also put a chair under the door knob, you know, just to be safe.
Tim, turning back to me: "You sure you closed it all the way last time?"
Me: "Positive."
We both never took our eyes off the door.
We felt like kids again, creeped out beyond reason by phenomena that really only made sense if there were unreal monsters causing them. We stared blankly at each other trying to make sense of the situation, savoring the delicious fear that had sent adrenaline coursing through our veins. Yet at the same time, the atmosphere created by the movie and the door's activity coinciding in such a way was fun, like a surprise haunted house. You know it's nothing paranormal, but somewhere, in the deepest recesses of your imagination plays the child who is the suspension-of-disbelief master. Right then, in my mind, he was screaming. He was making such a ruckus that the rest of my mind doubted its own knowledge that there was really nothing in there.
Me, being melodramatic: "Fuck it, I'm going inside."
Tim: "Right behind you."
Cheers-Thanksalot!
Comments
*end whine*
*begin wine*
mmmmmm...
Just kiddin', it's usually really busy for me at work... except when IT'S NOT!!!