Campfire Stories

[Haunt Master]

Thanks Ghoul!

I will do that later on.

Excellent so far, write more please!

[Ghoul of the Graves]

Awesome

[Haunt Master]

Here's the story continuing on....

Perhaps she could call the police. But how humiliating it would be if they should determine the noise was only a rambling cat, or a possum, or a raccoon. What would her aunt and uncle think? Probably that she was a silly, scaredy-cat city girl. Anyway, wasn't she forever attempting to convince her parents that she was a mature, responsible teenager? Now would be a good time to prove it. She must take control of the situation. Scraaaape. Molly jumped. "Calm down", she told herself. "It's just the trees".

Concealed by a dangling fly swatter, there was a light switch panel. Floodlights, she thought with relief. She flipped the switch, and one dim bulb just outside the door flickered to life. Immediately a ghostly white moth was attracted and commenced frantic circles.


But, hey it's not over yet...

[Ghoul of the Graves]

My story isn't over yet either and I have added more. That was really good. Ghostly White Moths are demons!

[Haunt Master]

Ok, I'm back with additional story here....


Surely there was a flashlight somewhere. She surveyed the cabinets, rummaged through the drawers. The glint from the blade of a butcher knife caught her eye. She grabbed it. Flinging open the pantry door, a mop and broom tumbled out simultaneously. She screamed. "Molly, get a grip", she scolded.


I'll be back for more later.

[Ghoul of the Graves]

Great so far, could you read the rest of mine please?

[Haunt Master]

Snatching the flashlight from a shelf, she stepped in the direction of the door. She was overwhelmed with terror at the hidden dangers awaiting her. Cluching the flashlight and knife, she reached for the doorknob. The knob felt as cold as a tomb in her sweaty palm. She began turning it ever slowly.

Riiinnng! Riiinnng!

The telephone splintered the silence, shocking her so that the knife and flashlight fell from her grip, clattering to the floor. Trancelike, she turned and started dumbfounded at the ringing phone.

Riiinnng! Riiinnng! Snapping out of her stupor, she hurried across the room.

Riiinnng! Riiinnng! Hand trembling slightly, she lifted the receiver. In a breathless whisper she managed to say, "Hello".

There was static. A bad connection, maybe? "Hello", she said again. "Is someone there?"


I guess this story might not be over yet? Wait and see.

[Ghoul of the Graves]

It just keeps getting better and better each post! I cannot wait to see what it is

[Haunt Master]

Thanks a lot, Ghoul!

I will be back for more story when I get a chance. So, right now I am pretty little busy with my own halloween topsites, and I will come back here later tonight. Maybe I will not post another story here by tomorrow or the next day.

[Ghoul of the Graves]

OK, I may die with anticipation of the next part but never mind Just to let you know, there is a bit more of 'Lycan' up for all to read.

[Haunt Master]

Let's see....


A pause. Dial tone. The caller hung up.

Molly placed the phone back on its cradle, her hand still shaking. She immediately thought of Mrs. Mason, the elderly across-the-street neighbor who helped her wrangle in the boys earlier that day. Mrs. Mason had told Molly to call if she needed anything at all.

She did need help, if only to calm her nerves. Maybe Mrs. Mason had heard the crash, too, and could help explain.

Molly pulled out several kitchen drawers until she found the local phone book. She was hoping that her aunt had jotted Mrs. Mason's number on the inside cover; otherwise, she would look it up in the white pages and find it by eliminating the street addresses. They were on Hillcrest Lane.


To be continued...

[Haunt Master]

As she pulled out the heavy, floppy book, a stray page floated to the floor. Molly leaned over and picked it up, but it wasn't a phone book page. The paper was thicker and had a yellowish tinge of age. Molly unfolded it, noticing how the crease had erased the ink in a straight line down the middle. It was a newspaper article. She started to put it back in the drawer, when the headline caught her attention: "Babysitter Still Missing" She quickly looked fr a date. Sept. 27, 2001. Seven years ago today.


To be continued...

[Halloween_crazyy]

Keep Going!!! I will die of anticipation otherwise!!!!!!

[Haunt Master]

Molly's eyes absorbed the words just as quickly as they could leap off the page: "The mysterious disappearance of Jennifer Howell, age 1, remains unsolved. Miss Howell was responsible for the care of two children on Sept. 27, when she inexplicably disappeared from the house. The last communication she had that evening was with her mother. Brenda Howell explained to police how her daughter had called her, frantic because she had heard a crash outside. Mrs. Howell assured her daughter that it was likely nothing - the wind blowing over a bicycle, a dog getting into the trash. Miss Howell agreed, calmed down, told her mother she loved her, and hung up the phone. Two hours later, when the parents retuned, the children were safe in thir beds, but Miss Howell was gone. Her belongings were still in the home, and there was no sign of forced entry or violence. Foul play, however, has not been ruled out. The incident occurred at 315 Hillcrest Lane".

Molly froze. She dropped the phone book and newspaper article and quickly sifted through the pile of mail on the counter. She found what she was looking for - a water bill. It was addressed to her aunt and uncle, Bob and Susan Williams, at 313 Hillcrest Lane!

Her heart stopped. How could they leave her there alone, knowing something horrible had happened right next door? Then she heard it again.

CRASH!


Well, to be continued of the story? Wait and see.

[Halloween_crazyy]

AHHHHH! I haate ending like that! Keep going!!