Day 2 of Vampire Nights, a novel written by RKR.

Cristian's old lover has a choice to die or turn into a creature of the night. What will she do?

This is marked Explicit for some scenes that might not be suitable for all audience members.

I guess it was instinct. I awoke sweating from what started as a beautiful dream. I was walking in the warm sun along a sandy beach. I could hear the wind rustling through the palm trees. The lapping of the waves filled my ears and the cool air made my skin feel alive. . I was relaxed and calm. I realized that my skin was turning a bright red. I have never burned before and I panicked. The sand that consumed my feet burned through my flesh and into my bones. I ran down into the water, but the water was too hot! The only comfort I could find was the cool damp sand between the water and the beach.The blue water in the ocean turned into a deep red, the flood of blood pouring from the veins of a large beast. It snarled and growled as I fell to my knees and scooped handfulls of the blood to my lips and drank. I buried my face in my blood stained hands, crying and praying. I prayed to God and asked forgiveness, but no comfort came.I was damned forever–for loving a man-beast. The bloody water washed over my hands and legs. When the tide rushed back into the ocean, my limbs were crimson red–a color between the blood and the burn.I watched my hands catch on fire in the sun. They bubbled and blistered until the skin feel to the ground, plopping into the sand. My feet went up in flames and when the flames receded, all that remained was the bones of my calves, the talus, and shreds of my own blackened skin that hung from pieces of cooked meat around what were once my calves. I tried to get up and run, only to fall again. I tried to balance on the stumps that were my feet.“Cristian!” I screamed.“Teresa. Wake up.” His soothing voice consumed my soul, echoing in my ears. It commanded my attention. My eyes opened slowly, waiting for the light to leave a burn. The light hurt, but it was more of a head throbbing, shock type of pain instead of a burning pit of fire. He lowered the lights in the room, and then picked me up from out of my coffin. I tried to cry, but there were no tears coming from the dry sockets. I felt weak and dehydrated. I was also very hungry.“It was horrible. I was dying. It started out so beautiful, but it was  awful. I was burning in the sun, burning in the water.” I sobbed into his shoulder. I was aware he had a pulse and I could actually hear the blood pumping through his veins.“Love, you were being warned about the things that can hurt you. It happens to everyone during the change.”“I can no longer feel the warmth of the sun? Enjoy the beach?” Somehow, I already knew this but I had to make sure. I loved the sun, the warmth, and the beach. I don’t know how I would do without it.“You can no longer feel the sun. You can look at it through my special windows here but you cannot be near ultraviolet light. Tanning beds are out, love,” he mused.“You remembered!” I laughed. The first time I had felt like laughing in days.“How could I forget those long gorgeous legs baking in fake sunlight?”He helped me up to my feet. I was beyond shaky, my legs felt like rubber. My stomach ached and cramped in deep pain.“Are you hungry?” He wrapped his arm around my waist. I followed his lead as we walked to the living room.“I think so. It is unlike any hunger I have ever felt before. It is painful. I actually feel like I am going to die of hunger. I can feel it in my stomach, my veins, and my heart.”“You are right, love.” His hand covered my belly and then the center of my breasts. Despite the horrible way I felt, I was extremely aroused, which seemed to hurt my stomach worse. The pumping of blood in his veins pounded in my head.“Open your mouth,” he ordered. I obeyed. He wiggled my two canine teeth for a brief moment, until I heard a small sucking noise, then a pop before they easily dropped out into his hand. “You won’t need these any longer.”“Eww,” I grimaced. “That’s nasty.” My tongue immediately probed the two holes that had once contained my canine teeth. A new tooth was emerging in each socket. The tips of these new canines were sharp. I studied Cristian’s teeth. His fangs hid behind his lips, but when he smiled wide, the top canines almost reached the bottom of his gums.“You need to feed, but only enough to keep you from hurting. We have to visit my lawyer to change your will–that is if you have one, or whatever else you must do before you die. You do have a will, do you not?”“No.” I never expected to die this young. My father always said I should have an insurance policy and a will, but I was a single person with little to my name. Why would I need a will? Why do I need to die? Can’t I work at night? The fear of losing my friends and family was real. I didn't understand why I could no longer see their faces. I couldn't hug my dad. Again, I tried to cry but no relief of tears came.“It’s too obvious, Teresa. Your skin will change, and your appearance will change. You will never age. You cannot risk being out at dawn, and what if someone caught you at night? What if you get into trouble for feeding? If they caught you, then you would be the victim of unthinkable experiments. I have seen it happen.”“Experiments?”“Yes.”“How? I’ve never heard of anything.” I felt sick.“Do you think they would let the general public know? No. I have spied on these experiments. Only the government knows of our existence and only because they caught a few renegades. They are not interested in our health, as we are no longer human to them. They want to study our incredible strengths and our undeniable weaknesses. We’re like giant rats to them.”His face grew into a long snarling growl. “I’ve seen them release vampires into the daylight without care. They throw the carcass out after poking it and prodding it with tubes and needles, then toss it like yesterday’s garbage. They want to control us, use us in battle.”“It sounds terrible.” I snuggled closer to him. Now even more aware of his pulse, I felt the animal in me want to tear into his neck. “Please,” I whimpered. “Feed me.”Cristian pressed his lips against mine. I was suddenly aware of my right fang growing longer. My tongue traced the hardness of my pearly whites. I backed away and closed my mouth. My new teeth rubbed gently against my bottom gumline, but didn't cut.He laughed and then pulled me close again, kissing me hard. I let my new teeth nick his lip. I groaned as the blood trickled down my tongue. My heart pounded hard inside my chest, thudding inside my head. His hand cupped my breast, kneading it forcefully. All of my muscles tightened at once, as the strength inside me grew. My breath became steady and heavy. Oh God, I didn't know how much longer I could wait. It almost felt like I was waiting for an orgasm that was almost there but never came.He pulled back. A look of shock covered his eyes. I would have thought he was scared if I didn’t know better. He relaxed and managed a smile. “You’re incredible. Love, I will be jealous if any one else puts this frenzy in your veins.” He tore off his shirt, ripping the buttons one by one exposing his neck, which was waiting for me.I jumped at him with amazing speed. My mouth latched onto his neck, my new teeth piercing deep into his skin. I must not have hit the right spot as he pried me off and guided me to his vein. My teeth slid into his pulse and I consumed blood for the second time in my life. His heartbeat throbbed through my veins, starting from my lips and working its way down to my fingertips and toes. With each gulp of his life, I felt stronger and more satisfied. Just when I thought I could go on forever, he pushed me away. I scampered on all fours toward him but he held me back.“Please,” I whimpered like a starving puppy.“No. You need to take it easy at first, love.” The blood was so hot when splashed against the walls of my stomach. I felt like something was twisting inside of me, wanting to get out, something hot and putrid.“Help me," I managed to say.Cristian carried me outside so I could do my business. Hot blood shot out of my mouth all over the concrete porch. The thought of it made me even more ill. I hacked and coughed until my stomach hurt from the heaving. My body collapsed near the dark puddle I had made. My head spun and my stomach cramped near the wretched puddle of blood and vomit. I wanted to move away from the stench, but when I tried, the spinning sky pushed me back down again. I felt like I had food poisoning five times over.Cristian picked me up and carried me inside. He washed my face and hands and then laid me down on the leather couch. “I’m sorry.” He studied my face with pity.“Will it always be this way?” I choked on more blood trying to come back up.“No, only the first time. Get some sleep while I get our lawyer.”“What do you mean your lawyer? Is he mine, too?”“Yes. We still need to function in a normal world.”“But won’t he know? Doesn’t he know?” The future scared me. I didn't want anyone to know after what he told me about the experiments.“In time, love, all the details will come to you in time. If you follow me, you will live forever.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “We will be together forever.”
*****
We walked into a dark brown door on the side of a large brick building. It would have been difficult to know this was a lawyer’s office, except for the title, Browne and Browne printed in dark gray letters on the door. There was no street number, no suite number, or any sort of sign. It was almost as if they wanted to be discreet. In the office was a pale white woman sitting behind a desk. She seemed to know who Cristian was by her smile, or perhaps I could sense that she knew.“Hello, Cristian,” she purred. “Victor is waiting for you.” She was indifferent to me, not looking my way at all. I sensed a tinge of jealousy inside her head, but that wasn't possible–or was it?“Thank you.” I knew then what was happening. They had a history together. There was distinct eye contact between the two and I could feel the tension in the air. It was thick, like smoke. What did their relationship matter to m

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

On to part 2. Are you ready? Please let me know if you're enjoying the chapter-by-chapter books. Once I have all of this uploaded I'll have time to work on my new installments. I also have another author who has graciously allowed me to tell his short stories that he is uploading to amazon. Lots of good stuff coming out.If you missed part 1, you might want to read or listen to it first. Enjoy!Part 2Cristian put his arm around me. He had changed into a black terry cloth robe, his black curls trailed over his face. The robe opened a bit, enough for me to have a glimpse of his strong, muscular chest. He pulled me close and put my head on his chest, just as he had in the past. I looked up into his eyes, waiting for them to comfort me, but they were empty of life.“What is wrong?” I spoke quietly, afraid of pushing him too hard.“Remember how I told you about my research?”“Yeah?”“Love, I died there a long time ago.”“Tell me, Cristian. What really happened to you? You told me someone jumped you. Who?” I could hear the apprehension in his heartbeat.“It was all in the name of research, Teresa.” He rubbed each of his temples with his middle fingers. “In 1995, there was a discovery in Venezuela about vampire bats. The saliva of the vampire bat contains a protein that helps keep the blood from clotting. It’s how they feed on animals at night, but at the time we didn’t know it was a protein, we only knew it could keep blood from clotting. What a wonderful thing to have in the future–the discovery of a serum or pill; which would help stop strokes and heart attacks, reverse the effects of anemia, and more! When we parted, I was still studying genetics at Berkeley. I dove into my work because nothing else mattered at that point. I would stay up studying for days, Teresa. I wanted that cure to help people, and I wanted you. What else could I do? Without you, my life was meaningless. I had to make up for my loss of you. Berkeley wanted in on part of the action in Venezuela really badly. They played cutthroat to get the money for me to set up a lab down there. Investors poured in cash, including drug companies, and millionaires. It was a mad house trying to keep the word under lock and key.”I stared at him, amazed at how far he had gone in his studies. He was never open with me about his work at the college and now, was it wasted on a life that he had to live underground? I searched his eyes for some visible clue of remorse, but he just stared back at me.“Go on.” I traced his facial features with my fingers.He sighed, and then continued, “Let me explain something about the bats first. Vampire Bats are nocturnal creatures. They feed on their victims at night while the animals are sleeping. Their saliva contains several,” he paused for the right words, probably in order for me to grasp the meaning, “ingredients that help to keep the blood from clotting. They also have other qualities.”I watched his face light up with excitement as he carried on. “Their saliva also contains an anesthetic that numbs the skin of the sleeping animal so it doesn’t feel the pain. We had to find out more about these creatures. For years, we studied their habits in the jungles and on farms in Venezuela. We watched them prey on unsuspecting animals and drink their blood. Interestingly enough, they do not suck the blood but just lick it up while they are eating. Their saliva helps the blood continue to flow. Only when they have stopped does the wound heal. Think what this discovery could do for human life!” Cristian smiled bigger than I had ever seen.“That sounds so wonderful, Cristian.” I marveled at his excitement. I don’t believe that any one thing in my life ever touched me the way his research affected him. His eyes then darkened and I felt the cold air envelope my body. “I tried,” he continued, “to capture this miracle and failed.” Cristian buried his head in his hands. I didn't dare say anything or mention his grief.“I’m sure you found some way to harness the power.” I tried to sound reassuring. It was hard, but I believed in him.“We did,” he sighed. “We captured several vampire bats and brought them back to the laboratories. We made a special habitat for them where we could observe their behavior. Several died during the change, but instinct took over, and a few lived. We made more of them in our cozy lab caves. We also left animals for the bats to dine on and they did. It was a perfect eco system for a while.”“Whatever happened?” I leaned forward, wanting to hear the rest of his exciting story.“The bats were fine. The animals were fine too. Their lives were perfect. Once the bats felt at home, we would capture the bats and harvest their saliva for testing. They lived harmoniously with the other animals and our harvesting.”Cristian was stalling. I knew that look in his eyes. I knew when he wanted to move on to something else and I could tell he did now more than ever. “Please go on, Cristian.”“Love, if you only knew the horror of it all. I understand they are still testing and they are still trying to create the perfect blood serum. They don't know the horrors of what is and can be.” He shook his head.“Knew what?”“What the testing would do.” His jaws clenched and then he laughed. “How inhuman they would make me!”“Cristian, you’re not inhuman, you’re—”“A vampire?”“Yes, a vampire.” I tried to squeeze his hand but he only pushed me away.“We were testing the serum on mice and cats and it was wondrous. The idea that we could use a mixture of vampire bat saliva and blood to keep their blood flowing was miraculous in itself. Love, if you could only have been there with me–to see the excitement!”A memory burst into my mind. I remembered something on the news about a new drug, which helped heart attack and stroke victims. A drug made from vampire bats. “Isn’t this drug already on the market? Your work is not ill-fated!”“Ah, love, but it is.” He stopped for a moment then looked down at his hands. He held them out and turned them over. “These hands were to create more than an anticoagulant; we wanted to create something to give longevity to the patient. We formed a serum produced from the saliva of the vampire bat and with stem cells from a human umbilical cord. We hoped the new serum would regenerate new cells in the sufferers and help the blood flow during the process. Instead, we created a monster. The cats and mice were fine. The early procedures caused death. After readjusting the amounts of the ingredients the animals survived. It didn't give us what we wanted though. The animals only proved a living being could accept the drug, not benefit from it. Therefore, we tried something bigger–something more human. We tried a chimpanzee.”I found myself enthralled by his work. My Cristian—so intelligent and burning with ideas. Why had I never seen this before? His world of science was so incredible to me.“The first few chimps died.” His gaze dropped down to the floor. “Their pain was horrid. They suffered a great deal. Further blood tests on the chimps proved fatal. Somehow, we altered their DNA. Sometimes they would lose their hair and their skin would rot off. Other times they would become violent and try to kill us.It mystified us how something could alter DNA, but we continued our search for a cure. My favorite chimp, Roger, lived through the transition, but he seemed to be slowly going insane. We used to let him play with the others and be out of his cage, but one night he attacked and killed another chimp tearing out its throat with his teeth and sucking its blood. From then on, he stayed in his cage, refusing to eat. We stopped testing the new serum and stuck with just the bat saliva.“Love, Roger must have been angry with me. One night when the janitor was cleaning the cages, Roger escaped. He attacked the janitor, leaving him for dead. When we arrived in the morning, we couldn't find Roger. The janitor lay sprawled out on the floor. His neck ripped open from ear to ear without a trace of blood. His esophagus and spine were glistening white through the torn neck muscle. From the shadows, Roger attacked me, biting me on the arm and neck. When he realized that he just bit his friend, he crawled back into his cage and locked the door.“He eventually died of starvation, refusing to eat anything. Later, I found out why he wouldn’t eat anything. The transformation began. Teresa, I was in pain–severe pain. I broke out with a fever that very night. I thought I was going to die. By then, the other scientists had left for their homes. Hopes of creating our cure were down. I stayed to watch the place until our funding came back. I turned into what I am now. My canines fell out and two new teeth pushed through, painfully I might add! My muscles grew to incredible strength and size and my skin changed to a pale shade of white. I could no longer tolerate sunlight. I later figured out it was the ultraviolet light of the sun that hurt. The radiation used to create the drug created a weakness in me. I didn’t know what to do. I was starving to death just like Roger. I tried to eat, but the food would not digest. Another scientist came to check on me one night and something happened–something dreadful. I could feel him enter the building. My new senses could somehow smell his blood. I followed him around the office until he reached the lab. The man called out for me, but I stood in the shadows and waited. The lab was a wreck. Glass and plastic were broken everywhere. The windows were broken from the inside out. He must have thought I was attacked by an animal or rebels.”He paused for a moment before resuming his story. “As he walked closer to me, my hunger grew. My stomach ached at the smell of his life pulsing in his body. The animal in me jumped him, pinning him to the ground. I saw the horror in his eyes as I bared my new teeth. Before my human instinct could stop me, I had ripped into his flesh, drinking and lapping up all the blood in his body. I drained him dry.”“It’s n

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Enjoy this 55,000 word novel about vampires and sweet revenge and seduction. It's about 4 hours long, I think, but I'm bringing it to you for 20 minutes a day.DAY 1Moonlight caressed the midnight sky, creating shadows from the still figures of the thin trees along the side of the road. San Francisco finally tucked itself into bed for the night, where I wanted to be, but tonight I needed to be at class. I was happy to get out early and headed home. I enjoyed walking under the midnight moon and feeling the cool, crisp air stinging my face. Nothing cleansed a soul better than the ocean breeze.“Teresa!” A whisper stirred from behind me. I whirled around, looking for the familiar voice finding nothing.“Terri!” It continued.Where could that sound be coming from? I searched in the darkness of the city streets. Still, the one calling my name was nowhere in sight. Then, out of the fog, a dark figure appeared, inching his way toward me.“Who’s there?” I shouted.The dark figure remained silent. His silhouette danced on the doors of empty cars as he walked toward me. Like a frightened animal, panic coursed through my body, the hair on my skin standing to attention. As he continued to approach, I crept backward, never taking my eyes off of him. He was tall, with long black hair that whisked around his face in the breeze. A long black jacket adorned what looked like a formal black suit.Something seemed familiar about him. He came closer, and I walked faster, not caring what or who I knocked over. As he neared me, I turned and started to run. When I thought I had the lead, my spiked heel caught a jagged crack in the sidewalk. My body shook as I fell to the ground. Hot tears burned down my cold cheeks. What would this man do to me? He scooped me up before I hit the rough concrete. Too out of breath to scream, my arms flailed punches at him. He pulled me close, pinning my arms against my sides. I pushed from side to side, trying to writhe out of his grasp; never escaping.“Shhhhh,” he whispered, his breath was hot upon my ear. I looked up at his face and immediately recognized him.“Cristian?” My lips quivered as I took short, frightened breaths. I remembered his voice, but I remembered his face with those handsome dark eyes and his big smile. As he held me tighter, I watched his smooth skin move with his features. I noticed he was still as gorgeous as ever, but what was it that made him so different?“Hello,” Cristian whispered. It felt like he was talking in my head. In fact, I hadn’t seen his lips move. He placed me on my feet and steadied my balance.“Cristian,” I managed, still trying to catch my breath. “That wasn’t very nice.” I felt like I was scolding a two-year-old child.“I didn’t do anything.” He laughed.“Oh, of course not, I only freaked out at some guy chasing me. Sure, like that happens to me every day.” I grunted and felt the familiar warmth from deep inside my heart. The fear subsided and I smiled. “It is so nice to see you again. You look…” I studied his face. He could be a replica for an alabaster statue. He tied most of his hair back into a ponytail. The loose black curls fell around his young face.That was it! Something was different…well…something should have been different, but it wasn’t. He hadn't changed at all–didn’t age a day since I last saw him. He was still as handsome as ever with his dark Romanian eyes and fair skin. It had been ten years and he didn't look a day older than when I left him.“You look wonderful, as always.” My breath was finally normal.“As do you." His lips didn't move, giving me the impression he was hiding something.“Tell me, what have you been doing with yourself?” His accent had improved. He sounded more American somehow. His words were more articulate–more mature. His voice rippled over my skin, soothing me in so many different ways.“Oh, you know me,” I shrugged. “Traveling, writing, you know.” Yes, he did know. We spent a lifetime together that summer, ten years ago. We were inseparable. We spent most of our time making passionate love under the stars in the park until dawn. How could I have ever let him go? Oh yeah, I remembered now. My father hated Romanians and threatened to kill him. I couldn’t take that risk. I left him, hoping he would find me. He never did. For a long time, I thought I hated him for never coming back, but deep down inside, I knew it wasn’t true.He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. His skin was cool, almost the same temperature as the crisp night air. The coolness of his touch didn't bother me though, as my hand seemed to be melting into his. It felt like I had held his hand for an eternity before I broke the silence.“Where have you been all these years?” I fought back the tears. It was hard, but I managed. It’s not like I hadn’t managed before.“Oh Teresa, if I could just show you where I have been. You would be amazed.”“Okay, amaze me. Where have you been?” I smiled up at him. He stood about six feet whereas I was only about five two. I was used to looking up at him.“I’ve spent a lot of time on the east coast and in Europe, getting to know my family and who I am–among other places.” His voice trailed off, mumbling something about heritage and family.It was quiet outside, which meant it was about two in the morning. Unless you were inside a bar, the City seemed to shut down after two. We could only hear the rush of the waves coming into shore and pulling back to the black abyss. I looked out over the bay. We were now walking along the pier. How long had we been walking? I didn't remember walking all this way. I certainly would have remembered crossing Powell Street and then Embarcadero.“What are you doing here? In San Francisco I mean?”We stopped at Ghirardelli Square and looked over the bay. On a normal day, there would be people strolling along the pier, tourists visiting the Wax Museum, and eating at the many seafood and Italian restaurants. It was illegal to serve alcohol after 2 AM, so there are only a few people wandering the street.The fog was starting to roll in. It seemed a little late for fog, but even on the best night in San Francisco, the weather surprises you. The air bit at my arms. I shivered. Cristian offered his black London Fog and I grabbed it from his hands. I looked up at his face. There were no wrinkles. Is it possible after ten years to have no wrinkles? He was looking toward the City, his eyes catching something that I couldn't see. His profile was perfect; white skin, almost ivory white, contrasted so with his dark hair.“I bought a night club in town recently. It brought me here from New York.” He didn't look at me at all; his eyes still fixed on the Bay.“You’ve waited all this time. Why didn’t you call me?” I reached for his face, trying to get him to look my way. His face was as cold as his hand–too cold. Maybe it was the night air.“You wouldn’t understand. I was…” He let go of my hand and turned away. “I was held back. I wanted to come back, Teresa. I loved you so much. I still love you–your black hair, and your soft skin.” His fingers threaded through my hair sending chills down my spine and awakened a need in me I hadn't known for a very long time. “I wanted to come back every time your soft brown eyes haunted me in my sleep, but I couldn’t.” He dropped his head into his hands.“You’re different. You are the same–but different. God Cristian, how can I put this?” I moved in front of him and put my arms around his shoulders. The smell of his familiar cologne dominated my senses, bringing back so many memories. For a moment, I couldn't think. “You look the same, you haven’t aged a day, but something about you is almost like you’ve aged a hundred years.”“Teresa, love, life has treated me well for the last few years. If you only knew, if you could only understand.” He pulled away from my arms, and then turned in the other direction. “I have to go now. We must never see each other again.”“Cristian! Stop!” Was I screaming? I couldn't remember. I felt like screaming.He stopped but didn't turn around. “You wouldn’t understand.”“Please, just please try me.” I sobbed. I never cried. The only time I ever cried was when we parted the first time. After that, crying was never an option. In fact, after we parted, I don’t believe I had any tears left in me.“Teresa,” He shook his head. “Are you afraid of the dark? Of what might happen at night?”“Isn’t everyone?” I answered back, half joking.“I suppose so.”“Are you afraid of the dark, Cristian?”He turned around part way, fixing his eyes on me. Those beautiful eyes seemed to be glowing. “Yes.”“Then stay with me tonight, in the dark.” I couldn't believe I just said that! Shouldn’t I be angry with the man who ignored me for what seemed to be an eternity or not? How dare he just show up years later, simply to break my heart!
****
“I have to explain something to you first.” He turned around and placed his cool hand on my cheek. If it were anyone else in the world, the feel of his hand would have made me shudder, but his touch comforted me. His whole being comforted me, drugged my senses and clouded my thoughts.“The night you left, the night you went back to San Francisco, I had an offer to go to Venezuela and work–my life’s work, Teresa. Without you, I had nothing to hold me back.”“You didn’t make me leave, Cristian. I was afraid of us, of our relationship. I wasn’t ready.” I lied, again.He ignored me and just continued. “Years later I was attacked, Teresa.”“What? What happened?”“I was attacked by something inhuman–something terribly ugly. It consumed my life, my blood. It changed me.”“What do you mean?” I searched his eyes for any sign of lies but instead I started to dream of how I longed for him still. The air grew thick and warmth began to take over my mind and body. He quickly turned the other way. I was back in the cold again.“I’m a vampire.” He looked down at the ground. I waited for a laugh or smirk. Something to tell me he was kidding. Everything was silent, even the waves seemed to

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Here is the audio for tonight's episode. The first story you've already heard. The next few stories are below. You can always join us in the fun chat where there are a couple of calls that came in to be heard, the recording, and some fun chatter.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ModkJgevcKcThere are more chapters coming to A Mermaid's Tale but I ran out of time this week :)Thank you for being a patron! :)Mermaid EpisodeA Mermaid's TaleGood evening, it’s Spooky Boo Rhodes from the beautiful coastal town of Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for a 5 part series of a story that I have written titles “A Mermaid’s Tale.” This story is obviously about a mermaid who torments a man on shore and has plans for him to become hers. Little does he know that she has a secret bigger than the secret he is keeping from his wife. This gristly story about mermaids isn’t your pretty little princess story. No, it isn’t for the feint of heart or those looking for a kiss the frog prince story. The mermaids of Sandcastle aren’t those types of fairy tales. Find out more by listening to the rest of this horror story.
Now let’s begin
A Mermaid’s Taleby Spooky Boo Rhodes
Part 1
He looked at her eyes and imagined himself swimming in those deep pools of green. Where this strange woman came from, he had no clue but she was with him now and that was all that mattered. His marriage be damned! He only wanted this woman and her magic in his heart.
She took his hand and, placing it palm down on her chest, she allowed her heartbeat to match his. He smiled and kissed her, their lips just touching slightly. He felt as one with this strange redhead. Her spell on him was only deepened by his love for her and it was only a few hours before when they met. How it happened so fast, he did not know.
The were both walking on the beach in the moonlight in opposite directions. The fog had only just started to roll in but already covered the shore at eye level and mysteriously thicker than normal. He had bumped into her as she appeared right before him, hiding in the shadows cast by the light of the moon and the fog. He felt so bad after knocking her down that he asked her to have a drink and she agreed. Hours later they were together at the Sandcastle hotel.
It had been two days since he had been home with his wife. Newlyweds they were, and oddly enough two days before, he felt he loved his wife more than anyone every but after hearing the soft voice of this unlikely stranger and seeing the ocean in her glowing green eyes, he suddenly had a distaste for his new bride. A feeling that would normally cause him pain, but tonight it was surreal. He wanted to hurt her for just being in his life and almost taking away the chance of meeting his incredible woman.
His fingers threaded through her thick, long red hair and then pull it up around her face in a fist then letting it fall lightly on her shoulders. It was surreal and his heart beat hard for this new love.
“Sing to me,” he said as he smiled and ran his finger down her cheek.
She hummed a tune unfamiliar to him yet he somehow knew the notes and how it would end. Their minds locked as one and as he wondered just how he would tell his wife that he was going to leave her for this new woman, she smiled.
Images of his wife lying on her back in their bed with her head lolling to the side, hanging off the edge displayed before his eyes. Her eyes opaque and open along with her mouth. Blood dripping from her lips and her chest splayed open with her organs fresh on display. The humming grew louder and more intense as he nodded and smiled. He knew what he had to do and do it soon so this mysterious woman could be his forever in eternity.
He kissed her full lips and caressed her hair one more time before putting on his clothes then headed out to his car. The hotel clerk just smiled and nodded. He figured the man already knew the secret he held from the world and hoped he would tell no one. His secret must not get out.
As he pulled into the driveway of their large home, he saw his wife watching out the window for him. Her father had paid for everything, another annoyance in his life. She reminded him of it often and so did her dad. Almost every chance her father got he wondered why Wren got into computers instead of medicine. Reluctantly, he opened the car door and stepped out of the car. The front door flung open and in seconds Agatha was upon him, hugging him and kissing his face.
“Where have you been? I’ve missed you so much and was so worried. I called the cops and everything. Why are you clothes wet?”
“What? My clothes?” Why hadn’t he noticed that he was soaked?
“And…and you smell like you’ve been in the ocean. Fishy. Did you get in an accident near the beach, baby? Should we go to the doctor? Come inside and get warm.”
He went inside with his wife and she started a warm bath as he tossed his clothes in the hamper. When the water was ready, she kissed him on the lips and quickly backed away, giving him a strange look.
“Baby, brush your teeth. You taste like the ocean, too.”
For a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing there. He forgot about the redhead who held his heart for the past few days and only remembered the love for his wife. He nodded and stepped into the tub as she went into the other room. He heard her bustling around in the closet and then the kitchen as he lowered his body into the warm water. Leaning back and relaxing, he tried hard remembering where he had been for the past few days and the memories were just not there.
“Something is wrong with me, honey. I must have blacked out. I can’t remember where I’ve been,” he yelled to his wife in the other room.
She stepped into the bathroom placing his warm towels on the tank and sat on the toilet seat, lid closed. “It will come to you, baby. The car isn’t wrecked so maybe you just hit your head on something or you’re coming down with the flu.”
“I guess.”
Agatha handed him the warm tea she made and as he took a sip, his stomach churned. The need to wretch was intense, but he didn’t want to worry her so he just leaned back allowing the bile to dip back into his stomach.
“Baby, you’re green and you look like you just ate something terrible. Let me call daddy for you.”
Wren agreed and leaned back into the relaxing water until the sudden urge to make love to his wife hit him so hard that he got out of the tub without even drying off. When he wrapped his arms around her as she was turning the comforter and bedsheets down to sleep. She turned around to kiss him but tried to pull away. He kissed her hard.
She slapped his face and pushed him away.
“What the hell, babe?” He cried out, his cheek stinging.
“Brush your teeth and use some soap. I don’t know where you’ve been, but you’re not feeling good and I don’t want to get whatever it is that you have. You’re going to the doctor in the morning and that’s it.”
Wren’s fist came down on the nightstand as he stared at Agatha. Her dead body splayed on the bed haunting his thought again. As he noticed the fear in her eyes, he softened a bit and agreed. She gave him a pair of his flannel pajamas and grabbed some sheets, a pillow, and a blanket from the closet.
“Should you take the couch or should I?” She said, offering the ensemble to him.
“I’ll take the couch,” he said and went out into the living room alone.
***
The next morning it was foggy when the couple headed out to the doctor’s office. Wren looked over at his wife who took the liberty of driving to the doctor’s office herself.
“You look like shit, baby,” she said, barely even taking her eyes off the road.
He pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. His skin was almost grey with a green hue. In some places it actually looked irridescent. His eyes were sunken in and hollow but alive. Even his hair seemed more sparse than normal. Grimacing, he quickly pushed the visor back up into place.
“I don’t know what you ate or contracted, but hopefully the doc will,” Agatha said, pulling into the driveway of the medical building.
As they waited in the infectious diseases area where no one else was allowed until the latest patient had left the room, Wren twitched in his seat. He was incredibly thirsty. He felt if he didn’t get any water, even a mist, that his lungs would explode. He looked around the room for a water cooler and instead found the fish tank. His stomach cramped in hunger as he stared at the large, black angel fish that stared back at him.
“What are you doing?” Agatha asked as she watched him walk over to the fish tank and stick his hand in the tank.
He thought about grabbing the angelfish and eating it but thought better of it. That might look strange and the doctor would lock him up—probably force him to divroce his daughter. Instead, he cupped the water from the tank in his palm and drank from it while looking back at his wife.
“Gross!” She whispered. “Knock it off.”
Satisfied with his sip of tank water, he sat back down in the chair beside her. His mind clouded with thoughts of how much he loved his wife and yet hated her. He couldn’t make up his mind. Her dead body displayed on the bed flashed in his mind and he shook it off. When he saw the image, his stomach ached with hunger and that bothered him the most. Something was seriously wrong with him yet he had no idea what was going on in his head.
“Wren Blankenship,” the nurse called out his name with a big smile. Agatha stood up to go with him but the nurse shook her head. “Just Wren for now. We’ll call you in if needed.”
Wren followed the nurse into the small room void of any personality. He looked at the bare walls and the equipment hanging down from the ceiling. Normally his doctor h

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

This is a 5 part story I've written. Join me here for a daily episode for the next week or for the full broadcast listen to it on the Sandcastle Horror podcast or on YouTube next Saturday night at 6:00 PM Pacific. This story is a dark thriller that contains murder, mystery, and mayhem.

This week I'm doing something a little different. I'm creating a 5 part Sandcastle Horror podcast. It will be in pieces on the Creepypasta channel and on Patreon then on Saturday it will be one whole story running over an hour on  YouTube and the Sandcastle Horror Podcast. Let me know how you like it :)
Good evening, it’s Spooky Boo Rhodes from the beautiful coastal town of Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for a 5 part series of a story that I have written titles “A Mermaid’s Tale.” This story is obviously about a mermaid who torments a man on shore and has plans for him to become hers. Little does he know that she has a secret bigger than the secret he is keeping from his wife. This gristly story about mermaids isn’t your pretty little princess story. No, it isn’t for the feint of heart or those looking for a kiss the frog prince story. The mermaids of Sandcastle aren’t those types of fairy tales. Find out more by listening to the rest of this horror story.Now let’s beginA Mermaid’s Taleby Spooky Boo Rhodes
Part 1
He looked at her eyes and imagined himself swimming in those deep pools of green. Where this strange woman came from, he had no clue but she was with him now and that was all that mattered. His marriage be damned! He only wanted this woman and her magic in his heart.
She took his hand and, placing it palm down on her chest, she allowed her heartbeat to match his. He smiled and kissed her, their lips just touching slightly. He felt as one with this strange redhead. Her spell on him was only deepened by his love for her and it was only a few hours before when they met. How it happened so fast, he did not know.
The were both walking on the beach in the moonlight in opposite directions. The fog had only just started to roll in but already covered the shore at eye level and mysteriously thicker than normal. He had bumped into her as she appeared right before him, hiding in the shadows cast by the light of the moon and the fog. He felt so bad after knocking her down that he asked her to have a drink and she agreed. Hours later they were together at the Sandcastle hotel.
It had been two days since he had been home with his wife. Newlyweds they were, and oddly enough two days before, he felt he loved his wife more than anyone every but after hearing the soft voice of this unlikely stranger and seeing the ocean in her glowing green eyes, he suddenly had a distaste for his new bride. A feeling that would normally cause him pain, but tonight it was surreal. He wanted to hurt her for just being in his life and almost taking away the chance of meeting his incredible woman.
His fingers threaded through her thick, long red hair and then pull it up around her face in a fist then letting it fall lightly on her shoulders. It was surreal and his heart beat hard for this new love.
“Sing to me,” he said as he smiled and ran his finger down her cheek.
She hummed a tune unfamiliar to him yet he somehow knew the notes and how it would end. Their minds locked as one and as he wondered just how he would tell his wife that he was going to leave her for this new woman, she smiled.
Images of his wife lying on her back in their bed with her head lolling to the side, hanging off the edge displayed before his eyes. Her eyes opaque and open along with her mouth. Blood dripping from her lips and her chest splayed open with her organs fresh on display. The humming grew louder and more intense as he nodded and smiled. He knew what he had to do and do it soon so this mysterious woman could be his forever in eternity.
He kissed her full lips and caressed her hair one more time before putting on his clothes then headed out to his car. The hotel clerk just smiled and nodded. He figured the man already knew the secret he held from the world and hoped he would tell no one. His secret must not get out.
As he pulled into the driveway of their large home, he saw his wife watching out the window for him. Her father had paid for everything, another annoyance in his life. She reminded him of it often and so did her dad. Almost every chance her father got he wondered why Wren got into computers instead of medicine. Reluctantly, he opened the car door and stepped out of the car. The front door flung open and in seconds Agatha was upon him, hugging him and kissing his face.
“Where have you been? I’ve missed you so much and was so worried. I called the cops and everything. Why are you clothes wet?”
“What? My clothes?” Why hadn’t he noticed that he was soaked?
“And…and you smell like you’ve been in the ocean. Fishy. Did you get in an accident near the beach, baby? Should we go to the doctor? Come inside and get warm.”
He went inside with his wife and she started a warm bath as he tossed his clothes in the hamper. When the water was ready, she kissed him on the lips and quickly backed away, giving him a strange look.
“Baby, brush your teeth. You taste like the ocean, too.”
For a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing there. He forgot about the redhead who held his heart for the past few days and only remembered the love for his wife. He nodded and stepped into the tub as she went into the other room. He heard her bustling around in the closet and then the kitchen as he lowered his body into the warm water. Leaning back and relaxing, he tried hard remembering where he had been for the past few days and the memories were just not there.
“Something is wrong with me, honey. I must have blacked out. I can’t remember where I’ve been,” he yelled to his wife in the other room.
She stepped into the bathroom placing his warm towels on the tank and sat on the toilet seat, lid closed. “It will come to you, baby. The car isn’t wrecked so maybe you just hit your head on something or you’re coming down with the flu.”
“I guess.”
Agatha handed him the warm tea she made and as he took a sip, his stomach churned. The need to wretch was intense, but he didn’t want to worry her so he just leaned back allowing the bile to dip back into his stomach.
“Baby, you’re green and you look like you just ate something terrible. Let me call daddy for you.”
Wren agreed and leaned back into the relaxing water until the sudden urge to make love to his wife hit him so hard that he got out of the tub without even drying off. When he wrapped his arms around her as she was turning the comforter and bedsheets down to sleep. She turned around to kiss him but tried to pull away. He kissed her hard.
She slapped his face and pushed him away.
“What the hell, babe?” He cried out, his cheek stinging.
“Brush your teeth and use some soap. I don’t know where you’ve been, but you’re not feeling good and I don’t want to get whatever it is that you have. You’re going to the doctor in the morning and that’s it.”
Wren’s fist came down on the nightstand as he stared at Agatha. Her dead body splayed on the bed haunting his thought again. As he noticed the fear in her eyes, he softened a bit and agreed. She gave him a pair of his flannel pajamas and grabbed some sheets, a pillow, and a blanket from the closet.
“Should you take the couch or should I?” She said, offering the ensemble to him.
“I’ll take the couch,” he said and went out into the living room alone.
***
The next morning it was foggy when the couple headed out to the doctor’s office. Wren looked over at his wife who took the liberty of driving to the doctor’s office herself.
“You look like shit, baby,” she said, barely even taking her eyes off the road.
He pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. His skin was almost grey with a green hue. In some places it actually looked irridescent. His eyes were sunken in and hollow but alive. Even his hair seemed more sparse than normal. Grimacing, he quickly pushed the visor back up into place.
“I don’t know what you ate or contracted, but hopefully the doc will,” Agatha said, pulling into the driveway of the medical building.
As they waited in the infectious diseases area where no one else was allowed until the latest patient had left the room, Wren twitched in his seat. He was incredibly thirsty. He felt if he didn’t get any water, even a mist, that his lungs would explode. He looked around the room for a water cooler and instead found the fish tank. His stomach cramped in hunger as he stared at the large, black angel fish that stared back at him.
“What are you doing?” Agatha asked as she watched him walk over to the fish tank and stick his hand in the tank.
He thought about grabbing the angelfish and eating it but thought better of it. That might look strange and the doctor would lock him up—probably force him to divroce his daughter. Instead, he cupped the water from the tank in his palm and drank from it while looking back at his wife.
“Gross!” She whispered. “Knock it off.”
Satisfied with his sip of tank water, he sat back down in the chair beside her. His mind clouded with thoughts of how much he loved his wife and yet hated her. He couldn’t make up his mind. Her dead body displayed on the bed flashed in his mind and he shook it off. When he saw the image, his stomach ached with hunger and that bothered him the most. Something was seriously wrong with him yet he had no idea what was going on in his head.
“Wren Blankenship,” the nurse called out his name with a big smile. Agatha stood up to go with him but the nurse shook her head. “Just Wren for now. We’ll call you in if needed.”
Wren followed the nurse into the small room void of any personality. He looked at the bare walls and the equipment hanging down from the ceiling. Normally his doctor had varied treasures given to him by his patients and friend adorning his walls and shelves but this room was different.
“Change into these. The doctor will be with you shortly,” the nurse said giving him a wink while grabbing some of

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Story One
The air was crisp as our family car meandered down the winding road, carrying us deeper into the heart of the dense forest. Excitement tingled in the atmosphere as we embarked on our annual camping trip. Trina, my loving wife, Rocco, our adventurous dog, and our two children, Josh and Liz, eagerly awaited the adventures that awaited us in the wilderness.
We arrived at our chosen campsite, a the perfect place nestled in the towering redwood trees. The scent of earth and nature filled our senses. Birds were singing to us from the trees. With only a little bit of difficulty, we pitched our tents, and soon, our temporary home for the next few days stood proudly against the backdrop of nature’s grandeur.
Night fell, and we gathered around the flickering flames of the campfire, casting a warm glow upon our faces. Marshmallows roasted on sticks, laughter filled the air, and the innocence of family bonds enveloped us like a protective cocoon. Little did we know that evil was nearby.
As the wind blew the leaves around, I thought I heard whispers. At first, I dismissed it as just the wind, but it really did sound like more than one harmonious voice. As the darkness descended upon us, so did the intensity of the sounds.
A chill ran down my spine as I noticed a shadowy figure dash across the clearing. The shape of a pale girl moved with a floating grace. She appeared only briefly, yet her presence was undeniably haunting.
Trina, always the rational one, tried to dismiss it as a trick of the imagination, a result of the surrounding darkness playing tricks on our minds. But as the night wore on, our encounters with the ghostly girl became more frequent. My wife grew extremely concerned for the girl as she seemed to be lost and without parents.
Liz, our brave and curious daughter, began recounting tales of whispers in the night. She spoke of a ghostly voice beckoning her to follow, its eerie melody tugging at her curiosity. Josh, our innocent young boy, spoke of seeing shadows dancing on the tent walls, their forms resembling the little girl’s figure.
Our camping trip soon turned into a nerve-wracking ordeal. The ghostly girl seemed determined to torment us, her presence growing more disturbing with each passing night. Her haunting visage invaded our dreams, casting a pall of fear over our waking hours.
We had all decided at that point the girl was a real spirit and not just some child lost in the woods. Whenever we tried to follow her, she would disappear before our eyes. Several times I suggested we leave and head for home, but the family wouldn’t hear of it.
One moonlit night, as we huddled together, seeking solace and protection, the ghostly girl’s apparition materialized before us. Her eyes, once filled with innocence, now held a sorrowful longing. She emanated an aura of sadness and desperation, as if yearning for something we couldn’t comprehend.
She beckoned for us to come closer in a whisper that carried on through the breeze. We hesitated, I told the family we should be cautious as we don’t know of the nature of her need. Trina, always compassionate, took a tentative step forward, her voice gentle as she asked, “What do you want from us?”
In response, the ghost pointed toward a nearby gnarled and ancient oak tree. Its trunk bore the scars of time, etched with the markings of past sorrow. A hidden secret awaited, and with caution, we approached the tree.
As we neared, the girl’s apparition began to fade into mist. We could still see the mist, guiding us toward the heart of the mystery. To our surprise, we discovered a weathered wooden box, concealed among the roots of the ancient oak. Inside, was a collection of yellowed photographs and handwritten letters painted a tragic tale of a young girl lost in the depths of the woods, her spirit forever bound to these haunting grounds.
As we delved deeper into the contents of the weathered wooden box, a profound sense of sadness enveloped us. The photographs depicted a young girl, her eyes filled with innocence and hope, capturing moments frozen in time. There were snapshots of her playing in the sunlight, laughing with friends, and embracing the beauty of nature. It was clear that she had once been full of life and joy.
The handwritten letters revealed the young girl’s innermost thoughts and dreams. They spoke of her longing for adventure, her yearning to escape the confines of her mundane existence. Each word carried a touch of rebellion and defiance, a testament to her restless spirit.
It was in one particular letter that the truth of her tragic fate unfolded. She had set out on a journey into the woods, seeking freedom from the chains that bound her. But fate had a different plan in store for her. As she wandered deeper into the forest, a cruel twist of destiny led her to the ancient oak tree, where her foot became ensnared in its gnarled roots.
As the young girl remained trapped, her cries for help echoed through the forest. She endured the torment of hunger and thirst, her strength fading with each passing day. And as her life ebbed away, her spirit merged with the very essence of the ancient oak, forever bound to its haunting grounds.
We tried praying for her soul around the tree but instead she appeared before us with an evil grin for revenge. Her once angelic mouth twisted and screamed into the night. Her skin began falling from her bones and her hair now reached her heels.
“Leave my forest, heathens of the city!” she screamed, her voice screeching with notes of an owl flying in the night.
My daughter screamed as the the girl’s tendrils of hair began wrapping around her body like mummy and then she dropped to the ground, the girl disappearing into the night.
Since that night, our daughter has not been the same. She suddenly enjoys different foods and no longer likes to play games with her brother. Her looks began to change as well. I fear the soul of the ghost has invaded my daughter and we may never get her back.
Story 2
When my friends and I were around 15 years old we went camping one night out deep in the forest one night. We picked a nice secluded spot near the lake and close to an old barn. It was the perfect spot and if we had to go, the barn had an old outhouse near it.
After we all got settled in, Hailey had to go to the bathroom first. She sauntered off to the outhouse and a few minutes later we heard her scream. Tyler and I went running to where we heard the scream and found her locked in the outhouse from the outside. She kept screeching “let me out!” Tyler and I, being the adolescent males we were, kept on laughing and tormenting her until we heard her start to cry. Then we opened the door.
She slapped me first and then went running to the camp calling out Sheila’s name but Sheila wasn’t answering. We all arrived at the campsite at the same time and didn’t see our friend at all. She just vanished.
Figuring that she might have went a different direction to the outhouse to help Haily, we covered the whole area around the outhouse but there was no sign of our friend.
“Hey, look over here!” Tyler yelled.
We ran over to where Tyler was standing. Before us stood a gigantic old graveyard. The cemetery was so old that we couldn’t read half of the words or dates on the tombstones. There was a surreal fog just hovering over the graves as well.
We walked through the area calling out our friend’s name in hopes that she would show up but she never responded. I tried calling her house but no one answers. Of course her parents were going out for the night so no one was there unless she just went home and went to bed. That was our first thought.
We waited for a few more hours for her to show while strolling through the forest and the graveyard until we came upon a grave separated from the rest. There were no markings on the Celtic cross tombstone yet there was a large grate over the top of the grave.
“Hey, I’ve seen those,” Haily said. “They used it to keep grave robbers out of the grave.”
“Yeah, but why the weird tombstone?” I blurted out.
She shrugged and as we started looking for our friend again I heard a scratching noise behind us. When I turned around there was an apparition of a man floating over the grave.
“Let me go,” he whispered in the wind.
“What kind of prank is this? Is that you Sheila?”
“Noooo…” it whispered. “If you are looking for the girl, I know where she is but I will only tell you if you break the spell.”
“What spell?” I said as I stepped closer to the grave. I couldn’t figure out how the prank was being pulled, but it was pretty good.
“Kind sir, yonder in the shed there is a saw. You can saw these binds that hold me to my grave. Once I am free, I will tell you where you lass went off to.”
“All right,” I said and ran over to the shed to find a hacksaw. A regular saw wouldn’t work, just something that might work on metal. Instead, I brought back a sledgehammer and the hacksaw.
I started working at the bars right away. Some were rusted so it didn’t take much to break parts of them down but other areas were very hard to break. My friends came back to watch and thought I was crazy, but once I got all of the bars removed the ghost appeared again.
“Your friend was taken by some fiends in a white horseless carriage. The numbers on the back were 479 KJE. You have to hurry. I can see them now. They plan to hurt her.
My friends were dialing 9-1-1 and I continued to speak to the ghost. “Why, sir, were you bound to your grave?”
“I was once considered a murderer but it was only to protect my sister from fiends. But now I am free and I can go visit her in the holy land.”
And with that he disappeared. My friend was found and the men arrested for kidnapping. We never spoke of it again.
The Graveyard People
by Jay ten
About

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400

Creepy and spooky stories about haunted rivers, lakes, forests, and barns. These creepy anonymous tales are very spooky.

Music by Spooky Boo Rhodes

Search for @spookyboorhodes on social media or visit https://www.scarystorytime.com.

Join the Spooky Boo Club at https://www.spookyboo.club.

Thanks for listening!

Hello, it's Spooky Boo Rhodes from Sandcastle, California. I have several anonymous scary stories for you today about spooky tales of campfires, hunting, fishing, and ghosts. Have you ever set foot next to a creepy lake and wondered if any person has died in the lake or around it? Perhaps these tales of terror make you think twice about ever camping alone again.
Story One
My name is Randy, and I've always been drawn to the solitude of nature. There's something about the stillness of the woods and the gentle rush of the river that puts my mind at ease. So, when the opportunity arose for a solo camping trip near a secluded river, I couldn't resist.
The first night, as I settled into my tent near the water's edge, an eerie fog rolled in. It clung to the ground, obscuring my vision and muffling the sounds of the night. Strangely, faint whispers drifted through the mist, carried by an abnormally cold breeze. With my heart pounding in my chest, I strained to listen.
"Leave," the voices whispered, their words filled with warning. I shivered, my breath choking in my throat. I cautiously approached the river's edge, peering into the dense fog, but there was nobody around at all. The whispers grew louder, and more urgent and angrier, yet I could find no source of the sound. Fear gripped me, but I couldn't abandon my campsite just yet. I convinced myself it was simply my imagination running wild.
Determined to enjoy my solitary retreat away from the bustle of the city and work, I shrugged off the unsettling encounter and embraced the second night. Darkness came filling the sky with stars, and I nestled by the campfire, the roaring fire providing a false sense of security. But then I heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate footsteps. They were unmistakable, echoing through the silence of the night and crunching on fallen leaves.
I looked cautiously from side to side, scanning the perimeter of my campsite, but my eyes only met empty darkness. The footsteps continued, growing closer, until they seemed to circle my tent. Panicking, I fumbled for my flashlight, shining it into the night. Nothing. No sign of anyone or anything. The footsteps faded, gradually dissipating into the darkness.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Every rustle of leaves and every distant hoot of an owl, kept me on edge. Doubt gnawed at my mind. Was I truly alone in these woods? Or was there something lurking just beyond my reach? I couldn't shake the feeling that another camper was toying with me, playing a sinister game of hide-and-seek. I didn't believe in ghosts and a stalker was the obvious.
The third night arrived, and I nervously tended to the campfire, seeking comfort in its warm glow. As the flames danced, casting eerie shadows, I scanned the area. And then out of nowhere, a ghostly figure of a farmer emerged from the darkness, an eerie glow around his body. He wore tattered overalls, his face etched with weariness and sorrow. In his hands, he carried a menacingly large machete.
My heart froze as our eyes locked. His gaze pierced right through me, his blue eyes glowing. A chilling scream tore through the air, emanating from his twisted, gaping mouth. I stumbled backward, my pulse racing, my mind paralyzed with fear.
The farmer's face twisted into a mass of hallow darkness and swirling smoke showing the anguish and torment of a thousand lost souls. At this point I knew this was no human, no human at all. It was far worse than any person or animal I had ever seen before. I suddenly believed in ghosts!
In that moment, instinct took over. I abandoned all rational thought and ran for my life. The campsite and fire were left abandoned, swallowed by the darkness that had taken hold. Branches whipped against my face as I sprinted through the night, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me and the haunting specter.
I found the road leading into the woods, breathless and trembling, leaving behind the sanctuary I had sought. The once serene river that had drawn me in now seemed tainted, its beauty shattered by the encounter with the ghostly farmer. I vowed never to return, to leave those woods and their dark secrets behind.
But even now, as I recount this chilling tale, I can feel the weight of that encounter lingering in the depths of my memory. The whispering voices, the phantom footsteps, the tortured face of the farmer—it all haunts my dreams, a constant reminder of the darkness that exists beyond the safety of our everyday lives.
So, if you ever find yourself tempted by the allure of the wilderness, heed my cautionary tale. For in the depths of nature's beauty, there may lurk an evil that defies comprehension—a darkness waiting to consume the unsuspecting souls who dare venture too far into its grasp.
Story Two
My name is Jennifer, and the memory of that fateful day still haunts me to this day. I was just a little girl when I found myself lost in the woods. I had stepped way from my parents for just a moment while chasing a bunny that disappeared into the falling leaves. As I walked around in circles trying to find my parents, the dense foliage and towering trees seemed to close in on me, their shadows dancing ominously as the sun began its descent. Panic surged through my veins as darkness threatened to swallow me whole.
With each passing moment, my fear grew, and I knew I needed to find shelter. It was then that I stumbled upon an old, dilapidated barn. The weathered wood creaked as I pushed open the heavy doors, revealing an abandoned sanctuary within. My relief was palpable as I stepped into the dimly lit space.
The barn was filled with remnants of its former life—a time long gone. Tools that once served the purpose of farming and butchering were scattered about, their rusted edges reflecting the fading light. Despite the eerie ambiance, I convinced myself that this was a safe place to spend the night. Exhaustion weighed heavily on my small frame, and the hay-strewn floor beckoned me to rest.
I gathered bundles of hay, creating a makeshift bed to shield myself from the biting cold. As I settled in, the sound of my own heartbeat filled the air. Sleep slowly enveloped me, its tendrils lulling me into a fragile slumber.
But then, a noise pierced through the darkness, jolting me awake. My eyes darted around the barn, searching for the source of the disturbance. And that's when I saw him—a ghostly figure clad in overalls and wearing a bloody butcher apron. He stood before a workbench, sharpening his knives with meticulous precision.
I trembled, my small frame hidden amidst the hay, my heart pounding in my chest. The ghostly figure seemed unaware of my presence as he muttered to himself, his voice carrying an eerie tone. "Come out, little girl," he whispered, a sinister edge lacing his words. "These pigs are hungry."
My breath hitched as I strained to hear, and faintly, in the background, I heard the haunting sound of pigs oinking. Fear paralyzed me, but I knew I had to remain hidden. I dared not move or make a sound, praying that he would pass me by.
As I lay motionless, fear gnawed at my insides. The ghostly figure continued his grim task, completely consumed by his macabre obsession. The rustling of hay under my trembling body became my only solace, the only thing that reminded me of my own presence amidst this terrifying encounter.
Eventually, the night waned, and the first rays of morning light filtered through the cracks in the barn's aged walls. Relief washed over me as the sound of voices outside reached my ears. People were looking for me. They were searching for the little girl lost in the woods.
I mustered the courage to reveal myself, to emerge from my hay-covered hiding place. The barn's ghostly occupant had vanished, as if swallowed by the shadows from whence he came. But the memory of his chilling words and the grunting and squealing of pigs still echoed in my mind.
As the people found me, their arms enveloping me in warmth and safety, I clung to them desperately. It wasn't until much later, as an adult, that I discovered the truth behind that harrowing night.
It turns out that the barn I had sought refuge in belonged to a pig farmer, a man consumed by his twisted desires. The gruesome reality unfolded before me—this farmer met a grisly fate at the hands of his own pigs. They devoured him, consuming the very soul that had harbored such darkness.
The realization sent shivers down my spine. Had I encountered the restless spirit of the farmer, forever doomed to roam the place of his demise? Or was it simply a figment of my child's imagination, distorted by fear and the unknown?
The mystery remains, etched into the fibers of my being. The barn and its secrets are long gone, lost to the passage of time. But the memory of that night lingers, a reminder of the darkness that can reside even in the most innocent of places.
Story 3
My name is Colin, and I was an adventurous ten-year-old boy with an insatiable curiosity. It was a bright summer afternoon when I found myself wandering alone in the woods. There was an enchanting quality to the forest, the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows. But little did I know that this day would lead me to a chilling encounter that would forever haunt my dreams.
As I ventured deeper into the woods, an ethereal sound reached my ears—a faint cry, like that of a baby. My heart skipped a beat, and a sense of urgency overcame me. Determined to uncover the source of the cry, I followed its melodic trail, guided by an unknown force.
The cries led me to a meadow bathed in golden light. There, sitting atop a weathered stump, was a toy doll—a haunting presence amidst the serene beauty. Its vacant eyes stared into my soul, and a chill ran down my spine. But my attention was quickly drawn to the scene un

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/spooky-boo-s-scary-story-time--3577322/support.

Follow Spooky Boo
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Twitter: https://x.com/707spookyb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spookybooscarystorytime
Threads: https://www.threads.com/@spookybooscarystorytime
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/scarystorytime.bsky.social


Support the show on the commercial free podcast
https://www.patreon.com/spookybooscarystorytime

The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.

Call in your own true scary story at the number 707-SPOOKYB (707-776-6592) and leave a message of up to 3 minutes, and it might be played on the air.

Send your true scary stories. Visit my website at
https://www.scarystorytime.com/blog/scary-story-submissions

Ambient Backgrounds from My Podcasts
https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ambient-sounds-of-sandcastle-nature-dark-mysterious--4976400