Spooky Story

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New Member
This is a story I remember hearing as a young child.

There was this old couple that lived on farm. The farmers wife had a golden arm. The farmers wife loved her golden arm and was obsessed with it. Every night before they would go to sleep she would turn to her husband and say "Promise me, when I die, you will bury me with my golden arm." Every night the husband would promise that her golden arm would be buried with her. Years passed on and the Farmers wife died. As he had promised, he buried his wife with her golden arm. The Farmer was struck with grief for the loss of his wife and the Farm was hit with hard times and began to deteriorate. The equipment was left to rust, the animals were ill, the crops were withering, the buildings in need of repair and the bank was foreclosing. The Farmer was afraid to loose the farm as it was all he had left after his wife's death. He didn't know how he was going to come up with the money to save the farm with the condition it was in, then he remembered, his wife's golden arm. He said to him self, "If I just had that golden arm I would have more that enough money to save the farm." One night the Farmer grabbed his shovel and headed to the graveyard to dig up his wife and her golden arm. As he began to dug the wind started to pick up and the weather was turning bad. He quickly got the golden arm and rushed home. The wind was howling fiercely, the rain was beating against the house and the thunder clapping loudly. On the howling wind you could hear a faint voice moaning "where is my golden arm, where is my golden arm." Now having the golden arm and not knowing where to hide it, the Farmer hid it under the covers in bed. The storm outside was starting to get more fierce and the voice as getting louder, "Where is my golden arm? Where is my golden arm?" There was scratching and knocking on the front door then a large gust of wind thrust the door wide open. The moaning voice was getting louder "Where is my golden arm? Where is my golden arm?" The voice was even louder now, like it was in side the house "Where is my golden arm? Where is my golden arm?" As the room got colder he heard the voice again "Where is my golden arm? Where is my golden arm?" "DO YOU HAVE IT?!" as ice cold fingers wrapped around his throat.


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Lord Cavera

New Member
Siberia, winter 1423. A traveler and his wife huddled together, sharing the warmth of the fire that was all that protected them from the freezing wind that came through the walls of the yurt. Winter had hit hard this year. "We must stay strong." the man said, pulling his wife closer; "The storm can't last forever”. She smiled. "Your love provides all the warmth I need. What was that!?" Despite the cold, she leapt to the window. "What is it?" the man asked, joining her. Outside, all that could be seen was snow. He scanned the steppe for anything out of place and saw nothing. His wife was shaking, clearly not just from the cold. "What is it?" he demanded again, touching her shoulder. "D-d-didn't your h-hear it?" she asked. "I hear nothing but the song of the wind." he replied. He had never seen her this way before. “It was a scream, unlike any I have ever heard. Well, now that I think of it, it is silly. Probably just the wind. But it scared me.” She laughed weakly, and went back to the fire. He stood at the window for a moment longer, and was about to sit down when he heard it. A howl, like a wolf’s but far longer and deeper. It chilled him to the bone, and he knew it was just outside the yurt. His wife began screaming before he could stop her. The howling stopped, and rustling could be heard at the entrance, easily heard over the wind. The fire went out, killed by a particularly strong blast of wind. At the same time, the door creaked open. The man could not see, but he knew more than the wind had entered his dwelling. His wife had stopped screaming. “Vladlena!” he cried, worry gnawing at his heart. He got no response. A few seconds later, he felt something brush past him. He fell to the ground. Suddenly, the storm abated. The fire flared back to life. All was normal. Except for Vladlena, who was frozen in a block of blood red ice.

I assure you it was better when I wrote it last year, but when you take a 1100 word story and take out 750 words, you lose a lot of the details, lol. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.


New Member
My daughter called and asked me to take her to her ultrasound appointment. When we got there, the technician got her on the table, squirted gel on her belly and then started moving the sensor around. She turned the screen and started punching buttons and furiously moving the sensor. She said "Hold on, I need to have my associate come in." We waited until the technician came in with another woman and she started clicking buttons and moving the sensor around. By this time, my daughter and I were very, very concerned. Finally the first technician looked at us. She was pale and said "I don't know how to tell you this, but ....

You're having triplets!"

I play in Xyr.

Lady Josette

New Member
Long ago in the 1920's there was a beautigul dark haired girl of 17. She was had fallen in love with aq young man from the wrong side of the tracks. Her parents refused to let her see the youn man . So they decided to run away on halloween that year., it was cold and rainy that night and the young man drive so fast to leave town. His car was in bad shape with bad tire as the drove out of town they came to the only bridge in town. The young sped across the bridge so fast he lost control of the car, they hit the guard rails on the bridge and spun out of control. the young girl was trown from the car and was killed. Years later people would say that on rainy halloweens the young lady would show up along the road and passer bys would stop and ask her if she needed help. She would get in the back seat of their car and ask for a ride to her house, which was down the rode at the edge fo the forrest. when the people would get to the house at the edge of the forrest the young lady would be gone from the back seat of the car.

Lady Josette, Rugnir

Galen Padwarden

New Member
With Halloween quickly approaching we would like to hear a scary story. This story must be 350 words or less.Only one entry per person. Please place the world you want to receive your prize in your post as well. The top 3 stories will receive 300 Diamonds.

Get your friends in the game involved. If we have more then 100 entries, 2 more prizes will be added .

Contest ends 10/31/2018 11:59 pm EST

Winners will be chosen at random

Good Luck!!

Galen Padwarden

New Member
This is me. I’m here. I’m shifting the words that you’re reading, altering them from whatever this person wrote.

I’ve been here for awhile. For as long as you can remember, anyway. Sometimes I say your name as you’re falling asleep, or whisper urgently in your ear. Do you remember the time that I screamed, throwing panic through you and setting your heart racing?

That was fun.

You’re wondering who I am. That’s only natural. Of course, you already know.

I’m you. I’m the real you. I’m the mind that existed here before you stole my body, before you forgot about being a parasite. I’m the child who looked the wrong way, asked the wrong question, saw the wrong thing… but I’m not so little any more.

You may have forgotten me, but I’m still here. I’ve always been here.

I’m going to get out


New Member
Gentle rain patters through the leafy forest canopy above. Dark, roiling clouds block out the moon and stars. A small fire in the middle of a camp sputters pitifully as it slowly dies.

Hiding behind a log, about 50 yards into the woods from the camp, Claire hugs her knees, rocking back and forth, quietly weeping. Rain creates dark, wet patterns across her face and cardigan. Mud and leaves splatter her face, hands, and the ripped left knee of her jeans.

They’d planned a fun camping trip, just her Laura, Jeff, and Tyler. The first three grew up together. They were practically family, especially being in high school together and mostly rejected. Tyler had transferred in early fall semester, junior year. The slashing scars across his face marked him an outcast, and the trio had welcomed him.

Camping after Thanksgiving was a bit of a tradition with the old friends, and they decided to invite their newest member. Tyler was hesitant at first, but eventually agreed. With bags full of Thanksgiving leftovers, the group set out as planned, driving two hours into the Pennsylvania woods to their favorite spot.

That was two nights ago. Those first days were perfect. Cloudless blue skies, big fires, s’mores, swimming in the lake, hiking the woods, lots of laughter. They planned to go home in the morning. But now they never would.

Tyler was off taking a leak when the other three heard him scream. Suddenly, a black shape, faster than they eye could follow, blurred into the camp, bowling into Jeff. Clair bolted immediately, but not before watching they thing tear out Jeff’s throat. Laura’s distant screams followed shortly after. Then the rain started.

Thirty minutes later, Claire still sobs in hiding, trying to keep quiet, barely succeeding. A snap to her left. She looks and sees a human shape in the faint light of the dying fire. “…Tyler, you’re alive…?” Just then, the storm lifts, a beam of light from the full moon breaking through the clouds. A wolfen, toothy maw, dripping crimson, stares back. It wears Tyler’s clothes.

Fel Dranghyr
He stumbled through his town at night drunken with loneliness and dispair having woke up next to his beloved dead beside him. Making his way to the local tavern he noticed he was being followed by three strange men. They hid in between alleyways and parked carriages but he was keen to their movements.

They lunged at him but he fought with deadly abandon fending off the first two attackers. All of a sudden there was a sharp pain in his back and he awoke to find his recently deceased wife standing behind him in the mirror with a knife between them.

A warm tear ran down her face as she realized that the man she married came back only briefly before he faded away forever. His mind had left him years ago and he was only able to sit in his chair and yell a single word repeatedly; her name, “Annabelle”.

For her the nightmare was finally over, but the pain had just begun.



New Member
Dad! Dad! The ward heeler got me a summer job! Indoors! I get to be an intern at the Presidential Library! For Bill Clinton!



When I activate my Dark Tower:

Haunts and shadows fill the night!
Airy wraiths emerge, take flight!
Under the moon and out of the mist
Now, my children, writhe and twist
Through the air and under hill
I, your Queen, impose my will.
New minions does your Queen require
Go forth and hunt or face my ire!


New Member
The Ghost of Nell Cook:

In the ancient English city of Canterbury within the precincts of its cathedral resides King’s School, from its center there leads a long narrow vaulted passageway paved with flagstones; known as the Dark Entry, it is a place of dread.

In 1642, three workers were summoned by the Dean of the cathedral to repair a loose flagstone deep within the passageway where neither sunshine nor moonlight reached. Upon lifting the heavy stone, the stonemasons beheld a gruesome sight, a fleshless skeleton huddled in the corner of a deep pit beneath the stone. Scouring the parish records for unaccounted disappearances was the name of Nell Cook. After having murdered her master (a Canon of the church), and his mistress using the deadly poisonous fruit from the yew tree she was never seen again. Friars of the same holy order as the Canon had taken their revenge and had buried Nell alive as punishment for her crime.

Upon making their grisly find, within one year all three stonemasons were dead, two being convicted of the murder of the third, they were subsequently hanged; and the Dean died the following year. After these deaths in1643 Nell’s ghost appears in the passageway after the sun sets on a Friday; the same day the friars had carried out their deadly punishment. Those seeing Nell’s ghost perish within a year.

People remain hesitant about walking through the Dark Entry late on a Friday night in order not to tempt fate.

“Since those masons three who unwittingly set Nell’s unquiet spirit free,
Some have died upon a hangman’s tree,
While others no matter who, whatever condition, age, or sex,
Some get shot and some are drowned, and some get broken necks.
But one thing's clear, that all the year on every Friday night,
Throughout that Entry Dark doth roam Nell Cook's sprite.
Nell Cook’s breath is deadly cold,
Delivering quivering, shivering shocks upon both young and old,
Whosoever in that Entry Dark, who sees and feels that fatal breath,
Shall ever die within the year of some dire untimely death!”
I had not seen my Mother in quite a while, so running into her in the market's parking lot was a wonderful surprise. We didn't have time to catch up, but I learned she was staying in the city and I was to come visit when I could. My Mother and I had always been very close so going to see her was going to be a treat. I stopped by a couple of times for quick visits, although again, we hadn't caught up. The next time I saw her she was coming down the outside stairs of a warehouse that I was going to be working at soon. Another great surprise! To be able to spend even more time with her was a blessing!

One sunny day a small boat called to me. It was a quiet, peaceful day. Warm, a light breeze to come by and cool my face. Trees hung over the sides of the small river, shading some of the water. The water was flowing slowly and you could hear it slapping on the side of the boat from time to time. What a wonderful, relaxing way to spend the day, just letting the boat take me along to where it saw fit.

As I was watching nature at it's finest go by, I noticed that the river banks were getting higher on both sides. Then I saw some people standing on the right side of the bank a little further in front of me. As I got closer I realized this was my family standing there. They were all smiling and waving, happy to see me! I was overjoyed as my Mother, grandparents and aunts and uncles were all there. As I got closer they were trying to get the boat closer to the bank so they could help me up to them. I was just out of reach and started to paddle with my hands to get closer. Then I realized....

I woke up crying so hard that my eyes were already swollen. What had just happened? My Mother had passed away 37 years ago. Everyone else before her.

The nurse at the hospital told me I had stopped breathing during my sleep. I didn't know whether to be thankful I woke up or sad that I couldn't grab onto their outstretched hands. And every night I wonder before I fall asleep if tonight will be the night I reach the shore.



New Member
The last human on earth sits quietly reading a book in her living room when suddenly there is a loud knocking at her front door.

- O world


New Member
The Tavern at the Edge of Forever

My friends all taverns. We visit each other's taverns, several a day. Everyone has a good time and the hosts make a little extra money. What's not to love?

The funny thing about the taverns is, once you enter you cannot leave until the owner dismisses you. I don't know how it works, maybe some kind of a geas. But it's not a problem, because the owner also doesn't get paid until he or she (or it...) dismisses you. Still, it can get annoying if you visit a tavern and then the owner takes sick or goes on holiday so you're stuck there for a few days. But you can't make money if friends don't visit your tavern, and they won't visit unless you visit them. So we all try to make sure we let our guests go before they get impatient.

I made sure to visit my friend Harlan's tavern every day. He'd wish us all a good evening, pick up the silver, and send us home.

The last time I walked in these doors was four months ago. Most of the regulars were here, and we didn't worry too much when several days went past with no sign of Harlan. But four months trapped in a tavern can get on anybody's nerves. The last few seats filled up long ago, one of them a newcomer who had just moved in to the neighborhood the day before he came to the tavern. Poor kid had no idea this could happen. He keeps clawing at his chair trying to stand up, but I know from my own painful attempts that it's impossible. Whatever spell, or curse, that keeps us trapped here won't break under any human strength. We can't even die.

So we continue to stare at each other, drink from the glasses that automatically refill, and go slowly mad in this tavern from which there is no escape.

Send those diamonds to me in Houndsmoor, please!


New Member
Finally, the tents were set up and the campfire was burning brightly. It was a beautiful night out among the trees with full moon reflecting off the still waters of the lake. The six friends had been coming to this exact same spot for the last four years. Becca planned it every year and every year it seemed to get better and better.

It was Bobby’s turn to set the tone for night, he figured they were out in the middle of the woods on a clear dark night a ghost story was in order. He investigated the lore of area and found the perfect story.

They all settle in near the fire as Bobby began the tale.

“I talked to a fellow down at the gas station on my up here this year. He said we needed to be extra careful around these parts this year. Apparently about 20 years ago there was an arsonist who roamed the area. When the towns people figured out who he was they chased him out here along the river and hung him from a tree. Seems that tree was struck by lightning recently, the locals believe that if you were to accidently burn part of that tree…..”

Suddenly a limb in the fire snapped and crackled. A burst of flame shot out in a circle setting every one of them on fire. Although they were only feet away from the water the flame burned so hot and furious not one of them was able to reach the water before being burned to a crisp.

The next day a homeless man lured to the area by the smell of roasted meat discovered the bodies of the six friends. When he related the discovery to the local authorities he swore he saw a fellow sitting on the sand flicking a lighter. Lit, unlit, lit, unlit. He ran for help when the fellow turned his head completely around and smiled with flaming teeth.


Super Catanian

Well-Known Member
Once upon a time, there was a young man who played Forge of Empires. Once, his Daily Challenge offered a really good prize, if he managed to complete some 5-minute productions. Unfortunately he didn't have a lot of time left to do so.
As he collected and restarted productions, his Internet went down. Frantically, he became desperate, as he began to drive around his neighborhood, hoping to find free Wi-Fi. He did, and when he did, he realized that he left his phone at home.
Driving as fast as he could, he saw that the signal at his house had returned But by the time he had logged back in, it was already too late. His time was up. He had failed the challenge by 3 collections. In a rage, he deleted his account, never to be heard about ever again.
I awoke with an abruptness that nearly sent a scream from my parched throat. The pounding filling my ears was equal to the powerful thumping of my heart in my chest. I struggled to adjust my eyes to the strange ruddy glow oozing through every gap of each curtained window. I gasped for air after realizing I’d been holding my breath. What unearthly portent was beating at my door, in a way that my mind could only reason would come from the bloodied fists of legions, no not human, but denizens of the underworld. Set upon this earth to shred my mortal flesh from bone, then steal my shrieking soul back to their lord, ruler of Hades. What, beyond the pounding, was rustling at the windows? Could it be some loathsome creature, sent upon to drain my body of its blood? The stomping? Like hoofbeats of wild riderless black steeds, blazing eyes, flared bloody nostrils, ready to charge at breakneck speed through the walls of my once peaceful home. My breath caught in my throat as I listened… something just beyond the nightmare outside. I slowly rose from my chair, stepped towards the door, one hand gripped the doorknob, the other the deadbolt, when WAIT! There! That sound, a rustling like dead leaves or bat wings cutting the air. Reaching for the coat tree beside the door, seeking something, anything to use to defend myself. I inhaled deeply to steady my nerves, knowing that in the next moment I would face evil and be thrust into a battle for my life. A fleeting image, my granddaughters, flashed through my mind, giving me burst of adrenalin and courage to know that I would fight a good fight, and by all that is right in this world, I would not perish this night. I’d vanquish my tormentors and live to breathe another day. I threw open the door. Suddenly blinded by the glare of a light so powerful, I faltered and stepped back. NO! I cannot show weakness! Moving forward, into swarming ghouls, demons, ghosts and monsters wildly screaming…


It was a dark and stormy night. All of the boy scouts were sitting around the campfire when one of them jumped up and said, "Someone tell us a ghost story!!" There was a pause and then the troop master stood up and he began, "It was a dark an stormy night ..."
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