Hi, and welcome to Spooky Cookie! Are you ready to be frightened?
No? Oh, you wet your pants when you read creepy stories? What are you doing here then, get out! I just had this carpet drycleaned! *shoves you out of thread*.
Now...all you true-blue horror aficionados out there, welcome to Spooky Cookie! This is a thread based on CreepyPasta, which I read frequently, and I had an idea for this thread. That is, of course, where I got the idea for the name(like it?). It was actually originally going to be named Yeti Spaghetti, but I changed my mind.
Anyway, I intend for this to be a haven for all scary/creepy/frightening/spooky stories or poems that you can eat! Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about with "eat"? Well, it's simple. Stories are Spooky Cookies and poems are Yeti Spaghetti. Stories are yummier than poems.
This thread is open to everyone who wants to participate, and I intend it to be somewhere that people who enjoy getting the bejeezus out of them/doing the same to others can hang out! Any campfire stories or urban legends you know? Share it here! How about a story you wrote? Well, let's hear it! Want to get scared? Read here! The only rule is, everything has to be written by you. If it's an urban legend, that's the exception. Don't post anything here unless you wrote it or it's just an urban legend that you can share. And please, pretty please, try to make it original! If it's an urban legend or scary story, why not make it location specific? Anyway, have a summary cookie.
This thread's purpose? It's meant to be somewhere where everybody can post urban legends or spooky stories they've written.
The thread's rules? It has to be original(no plagiarism), and if it's a true story, say so. Preferably though, I'd say the better spaghetti would come from a fictitious story.
The idea? Scare the shiz out of the members of AG!
Now, to start us off, here's a Spooky Cookie I wrote concerning Highway 191 in Utah...
Have you ever heard of Highway 191? Probably not, but I have. Let me explain. It runs through Montana, Utah, Arizona, Wyoming, and it's one of the longest 3-digit roads in the country. It was originally constructed in the mid 1920's, and ran primarily in Idaho. It's changed a lot since then. One way it's changed that you've probably already figured out is its location. Another way that you may not have realized that Highway 191 was originally Highway 666...the Devil's Road. Its name was changed primarily for a few reasons; one, it was creeping people out, two, punks kept stealing the road signs, and three, it's Utah. What do you expect?
"I don't believe you," the detective yelled at me. "I think that you did have something to do with Mr. Young's disappearance."
"I swear, I didn't!" I yelled back, tears in my eyes. "He was my friend. Don't you think I've been through enough?"
"Where's your proof?" the detective demanded.
"I don't really have any," I whispered.
"Well then, you're guilty," the detective bluffed. Sniffling pitifully, I handed him the letters.
"Read this correspondence," I said, "It's all I can give you." I handed him the letters.
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October 24, 2004
Dear Mom,
My sincerest apologies go to you as I was unable to visit your house for the Fourth of July as we had originally planned. However, I promise to you that I will be there for Halloween, and will stay for Thanksgiving as well. Earlier today I set off for your home in Monticello, with Will and Joe, two of my college buddies from BYU who also have relatives in southern Utah. Will, Joe, and I have just bought three rooms at a cozy little family-run hotel off SR 30, and we're about to get some dinner, so this letter will be short. I've just left Brigham City and am driving south, to the more scenic parts of the state. My buddies Joe and Will are with me. The road's pretty barren, but we put on some rockin' music and it was great! Will, Joe, and I fought over the wheel for a while but after that we got along fine. When it started to get dark, we pulled off SR 30 and found this hotel, run by a father, his wife, and their four kids. I will update you next week via letter, as promised, but at the moment there's dinner to be eaten and sleep to be slept!
Your son,
Mark
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October 25, 2004
Dear Mom,
I woke up at approximately 3:00 am, and I could have sworn I heard some kind of tapping noises while I was trying to sleep last night, I stayed up well past midnight unable to rest. When I woke up early this morning, I heard the tapping noises again, however last night they seemed to get incrementally louder, whereas this morning they seemed to be fading away. I was exhausted and sleep-deprived but Will and Joe seemed fine, so I decided not to say anything. I guess it's just that this road seems a bit barren, even frightening. I'm certainly not used to the weather! When we went downstairs to pay our bill to the hosts, they were all gone; the mother, the father, and the children. We scratched our heads at that, but weren't too concerned; after all, they had spoken to us last night about going north, to the mall in West Valley City this morning, and being that West Valley is far away from here they would've had to have woken up early to get there before rush hour so they could be back soon. Anyway, we left our payment on the counter then continued on our way. The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully, we simply drove as usual. We were unable to find a hotel tonight, but Joe's truck has a camper so we rolled out some old sleeping bags Will brought and slept that way. Tonight I've discovered something; I hate being out in the middle of nowhere. It's so quiet, so dark, so lonely. I don't know how you stand it.
Your son,
Mark
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October 27, 2004
Dear Mom,
Last night the tapping continued, to the point that I did not sleep one bit. I woke up this morning bleary-eyed and exhausted, and as a result Joe is driving right now instead of me, and I'm writing my letter as he drives in the car. I'll describe what we see pass us by as we pass it; I see the Wasatch Mountains and Soldier Summit, and it's beautiful. The leaves have all finished turning a variety of red, orange, and gold, and the sight of the snow-capped mountains peeking out behind the golden hills is truly breathtaking. I wish you were here to see it! Anyway, I expect to be with you by the 27th, at the latest. We have been driving along at a respectable pace for the last few days, but we won't be able to keep it up. We're giving the summit roads a fair amount of respect, after all, cruising along at a snail's pace of forty miles per hour. We plan to stop in Provo for gas and whatnot today, but will be back on the road by no later than 6:00 pm. Please excuse the shortness of this letter, but as you have already learned I am exhausted at the moment, so I'm going to clamber out of the cab and into the camper, and catch up on my sleep.
Your son,
Mark
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October 28, 2004
Dear Mom,
Darn it all! I am sorry Mom, but I'm afraid I might be a bit late to reach you. While I was asleep, Joe and Will decided they were bored, apparently, and Joe started driving faster, speeding even. He rammed into the guardrail and totaled his truck. Luckily, the Utah State Patrol found us and saved us. I was asleep at the time, like I said, but here's how the highway patrolman said it happened; Joe was going at extreme speeds and smashed into the guardrail with extreme velocity, totaling the truck and ripping the guardrail away. We fell straight into Soldier Summit and rolled all the way down to the bottom, at which point, due to all the screaming and jostling, I woke up, however my legs were pinned down and I couldn't move. However, a highway patrolman had been nearby and had seen the crash. He radioed in for an ambulance and reinforcements, then dragged Joe and I out of the truck. We were taken via ambulance to the emergency room in Helper, but there's bad news. Will died in the crash, and Joe is in a wheelchair-the doctors say indefinitely-however I've escaped with no more than a broken rib and fractured patella(that's the kneecap). The highway patrolman that saved me and the doctors all agree that if I had been in the cab with them, I would have died and gone to Heaven, but because I was in the back, I survived. I thank God for His mercy upon my life, and I swear that I will still make it to see you by Halloween as promised. Surely this is a sign that God wants me to see you, because obviously if I'd died in that crash, our plans would be ruined.
Your son,
Mark
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"You see?" I told the detective. "There's your proof."
"Wait..." he said, fumbling through his pockets. "Letters! Letters to the mother...we found those on the body." Now it was the detective's turn to pull out some letters and hand them to me.
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October 30, 2004
Dear Mom,
Now I am so utterly alone. Without Will and Joe, there is no one to go South with me, and I almost wish I could turn back, but I've promised you I will visit by Halloween, and I will keep my promise. In the last two days, I've hitchhiked from Price down south to Moab, and I should be to Monticello just in time. I know how you disapprove of hitchhiking, Mom, but better to hitchhike and keep a promise than to not and break that promise. I apologize for my lack of a letter yesterday, I know I said I'd write every day, but I was so exhausted and in so much pain that I could not. I am sorry, however I am making up for that today. When I was little and Dad died, you told me something. You told me to look at the bright side, not the dark, and so that's what I will do. I'll look at the bright side. The bright side of this is, even though one of my friends is dead and one is a paraplegic, the tapping noises have stopped. Last night, even though I did not sleep, my waking moments in the darkness were not haunted by some paranormal tapping sound.
Your son,
Mark
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October 31, 2004
Dear Mom,
I have reached Monticello at last! I don't even know why I'm writing you a letter today, but I am. Happy Halloween, Mom. I've braved the Devil's Road to be here for you on the Devil's Day, and so much has happened to me on the way. All I can say is that I will look at the bright side now.
I will be with you.
Your son,
Mark
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"I didn't know he kept going..." I said, amazed. "I mean, I know Mark really wanted to be there for his mom on Halloween...but dang." The detective started to walk away, and I followed in my electric wheelchair.
"I think you've been cleared as a suspect, Joseph," the detective told me, sitting down at a computer console and typing rapidly. "But something isn't right about those letters."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean look," the detective told me, pointing at his computer. He'd pulled up some kind of file; the coroner's file. I examined it.
Anne Marie Young
Occupation: Retired.
Family: Widow, mother of one.
Date of Death: October 31, 1999
Cause of Death: Drowning due to Negligent Homicide. Mrs. Young was driving to Provo when her car was hit by a cement truck working on Highway 666. Young's car spun out of control, smashed through a guardrail, and fell into the Colorado River. She was stunned from the initial impact and thus incapacitated and unable to escape the sinking vehicle, she drowned. Driver of the cement truck admitted to intoxication at time of crash, further inquiry on the part of coroner and police department is requested.
Other Notes: Was driving to Provo to visit her son, Marcus B. Young, for Halloween at the time of the accident.
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I would like some CC on the above Spooky Cookie.
So, please contribute! If you don't feel like writing, CC is also welcome if the writer requests it.
Have fun eating and baking Spooky Cookies and Yeti Spaghetti!
