Discussion in 'mature-NSFW' started by Lain, 1 Oct 2011.
What lies beneath. I love that movie! I am watching Poltergeist right now.
Here is one of my standard ghost stories:
The Bus Stop
I grew up way out there on Long Island. The side of my street had no sidewalks and my bus stop for school was down the block. I was always suppose to cross the street to the sidewalk before walking but sometimes I was too lazy and walked against traffic - hugging the woods to get to my destination.
There was a story on the news the night before about some murderer and they posted his picture. He was on the run and were to be careful.
Of course this day I was too lazy for the traffic to stop to cross and I didn't want to miss my bus so I walked againt the woods. I was keeping my head down to combat the wind. When I glanced up the murderer from the television was standing in front of me in a black velour sweat suit. All he had to do was push me into the dark woods and that would have been the end of me. And I was frozen staring into his eyes. I could not even run out into traffic.
Just as he reached his hand out to me one of the boys from the busstop ran down the street, grabbed my hand and dragged me away. When we got to the busstop we looked back and he was gone. We assumed he went back into the woods.
That afternoon I was walking back from my busstop (on the sidewalk this time) and saw flashing lights and a commotion at the woods next to my house. I crossed and asked what was wrong. The cops told me a man they were looking for had committed suicide there. I told them that he tried to grab me that morning. The officers said that was impossible because he had been dead for two days in those woods. Then they told me to get lost. I walked slowly into my yard and saw the dead man's face as they placed him in the black plastic bag.
If the boy at the busstop had not seen him also I would have thought I imagined him from the news. But I know they would have found me in those woods next to his body as his final victim if he had grabbed hold of me.
I have sent that boy at the busstop a birthday and Christmas card for twenty years.
The Master Bedroom
This is a tale about youthful imaginations creating horror.
My cousin and my sister and I were ages 10, 11 and 12. It was an dark overcast Saturday. The wind was picking up and the rain kept coming and going. So we were stuck in the house while the adults ran errands.
My father had passed away after a long, painful ordeal with brain cancer. My mother was never one to cope with anything well ( especially death). The day that the hospital called and said my father had passed, my mother grabbed a few personal items from the Master Bedroom and moved into the guest bedroom at the back of the house. I am not kidding. She grabbed a few favorite house dresses and sealed the room. She bought all new clothes and under garments and never entered the Master Bedroom again.
Now, her irrational behavior was probably a factor in what happened that Saturday. That and youth.
We were in my bedroom across from the Master Bedroom hanging out on the bed playing a boring board game when the wind picked up. Then we heard a knock out in the hall. And then another. Then rapid door shaking like someone was frantically trying to get out of a locked room.
We stood and looked out directly across the hall. The door to the locked Master Bedroom was shaking violently. We were terrified. Obviously my mother abandoned and sealed that evil place because there was something demonic and dangerous in there - and today it wanted out.
The sky kept getting darker, a terrible monsoon was brewing and the rain started pouring down making a huge racket while the thing in the Master Bedroom worked harder to get through the locked door. We had to get out of there. But that called for walking past the Master Bedroom together to the stairs. While walking past the thing in there could free itself and grab one of us. We were getting up our nerve to make a dash for it when the doorframe around the Master Bedroom began to pourblood. And the hall light began to blink. The banging of the Master Bedroom door became more insistant. The door knob began to bend a bit. And the blood made long red lines on the soft white wall.
We grabbed each other, screamed and ran down the hall out into the storm. We stood on the lawn near the road in the pouring rain staring at the house for three hours.
The adults return and called us crazy. But my mother would not get out of the car and we would not go back in the house until my cousin's father checked it out.
We assumed we would never see him again after he entered the house. He came out and forced us all in. Then the reasonable explanation;
In my mother's haste to flee from the Master Bedroom she had left a small window partially open. The strong storm winds were blowing in and out of that window at vacuum strength making the door bang back in forth on it's frame.
The blood was caused from squirrels making holes in the roof and the water soaking into the pink installation and dripping down deep red.
Most kids would still be terrified but my Father was a saint and I would hate to think he would ever terrify me like that.
15 years later after my mother passed away I returned home and unlocked the Master Bedroom.
Ooo, good ones Lias!
That is also in my current ghosty movies collection.
I think that was the only film I liked Nicole Kidman in ever. I saw the original black and white version when I was a kid, but she kept the remake fresh and scary.
There is an original black and white version? I must see it. Is it good?
The legend of Lizzie Borden with Elizabeth Montgomery seriously creeped me out.
When creating your movie collection just remember one thing: Everything is a remake.
...and then he lifts the ceiling tile and looks...
That movie was such a ride!
I haven't seen it for a long time but one movie that totally creeped me was Roman Polanski's The Tenant. I should watch it again to see if it still does.
Didn't like Dead Calm?
"Art is either plagiarism or revolution."
Ive got a big imagination thats the prob and why horror movies dont scare me. There all to perdictable. Classic example the butcher knife. Why not the egg beater to beat the mofo's off and whip them into shape.
Billy Zane was disturbing.
Blair Witch comes to mind every time I walk in woods
I worry that these movies are ruining the childrens.
But they keep them out of second life!!
Are the movies addicting the children to make-money addictive games?
One of my recent pieces of artwork