I don't know how many of you will believe this story, but till today, when I think about it, I feel a cold shiver rushing down my spine.
I was about ten or eleven years old. Back then.
The winter holidays were about to begin, and I was getting excited about the yearly family trip that I always took with my parents. But unfortunately, my dad got an urgent order from his company. He had to go to Chicago for some serious business meeting. I got very upset as our winter tour got postponed. Seeing me make an owl face, my mom came up with the idea of visiting my granny and uncle, living in a small town in Oregon. My uncle was a fun loving bachelor who
never believed in the idea of marriage. No matter how many people in our neighborhood mocked him for staying with his old mother in his forties, he never seemed too bothered by them. He always answered back, as he is happy to take ahead of the family business of fish selling while taking care of his old mother. I spend hours with him doing all kinds of adventures whenever I visited Grannie, so going to their place sounded more lucrative to me. Than staying home and doing nothing the entire
winter holiday. My mom and I boarded onto the flight right after the day Dad left for Chicago. When we arrived there, I got extremely happy to see my Grannie's beautiful house. I got out of the car and my uncle opened the door, shouting, here comes Bud. Happy Buzzo came running towards me while barking loudly in joy. Buzzo is a Golden Retriever who has been living with my uncle for the last three years.
Now.
In a few words, he is my uncle's best friend. Grannie came out and we all greeted each other and went inside the house. Being the spoiled kid already, my Grannie and uncle started to pamper me even more. The dining table got filled with all my favorite dishes and also my most favorite of them all apple pie. Uncle served me a huge piece of pie and said, eat as much as you want, Bud. I'm so happy to see you. I smiled and hugged him, saying I miss
you all too. After dinner, we played uno, laughed and joked about my mom's and uncle's childhood incidents.
Then she tucked me in bed, and that night I got three good night kisses.
I was happy, thinking my winter holiday is going to be even more fun this year, but things didn't go as per my expectations.
My uncle used to.
Leave for work early in the morning, naturally, he was the one who always woke up first. One winter morning, a heavy storm took place. My granny requested my uncle do go.
To work today and snowing heavily outside, but.
My uncle was a headstrong person when it came to his work. He ignored her as usual and left for work.
In his small truck.
The storm grew wilder and heavier after he left, and my granny started to become worried sick about him.
She kept on calling him, but my uncle didn't pick up.
When after six hours he didn't come back, we all got worried and decided to call the cops to go.
And look for him.
The cops searched the entire town looking for him, and around five a m. The next morning, they found my uncle's upside down pickup truck crashed under a tree.
He was found in the driver's seat dead.
There was a big bruise on his forehead with clotted blood underneath. All my memories of him started to flash in front of my eyes, and I couldn't hold myself any more. As a matter of fact, that in the last hours of his life he didn't get to see his loved ones was way worse than all of our accumulated suffering. A holiday turned into an abyss of sorrow after this shocking incident. The next day, we arranged his funeral and my dad arrived to support all of us.
One by one, the town people walked up to his open casket and put flowers on the stand near him.
My grandma was.
The last one to go, as she could barely face this harsh truth. My mom and I held her hand and we walked to his lying, pale, dead body. As my grandma stretched out her hand to touch his cheek for one last time, something terribly crazy took.
Place, scaring the hell out of all of us.
My uncle sat up in his coffin and started to stare at everyone's face who came for his funeral. My mom fainted screaming, and my grandma yelled in joy.
Oh my son, you came back. You're alive. God heard my prayer. God gave me my son bag.
This was truly a miracle to all of us and accepted that sometimes this does happen. We thought maybe his heart stopped somehow and then started again. Labeling this under fate and luck. We happily brought him back home. But after coming home from this absurd situation, my uncle changed into a different person.
He kept to himself and barely talked to anyone.
He would have just sit in his room, turning off the lights and stare outside the window for hours. Not just that, Butz's behavior towards him changed the tea. The dog, who was ready to die for his master, suddenly feared to go near him, even for a second. Whenever Uncle came near him, Buzzo would bark and growl like he was some kind of stranger to him. What surprised me even more was that my uncle also started disliking Buzzo and often avoided him. The bruise on his forehead also
stayed the same, like a birthmark. One evening, I was sitting in the living room and watching TV. Mom and Dad went out and Grandma was asleep in her room. My uncle came to me and said, hey, can you make me a cup of coffee? It's on an important level. Why don't you make it? No, no, no, I am scared to go light up the stove. What why I can't go near fire?
I'm scared of fire.
For the first time I heard the word scared for my uncle, who never feared anything in this world. That night, I woke up around one thirty am to go to the bathroom. The bathroom is downstairs at the end of the corridor, located at the back side of the house. I was doing my business when I heard a low moaning sound that dogs make when they get scared. Turning around, I saw Buzzo standing near the bathroom door and staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. What what is it, boy,
he moaned once again in a very low voice. I could feel he was trying to tell me something, so I started following him. Buzzo took me to my uncle's room and then ran away. I have never seen him behave this way, so I got a bit startled. The door of my uncle's room was slightly open, A dim yellow light was coming from that gap, and I could hear a weird sound. There's no way I can describe it till today. But as I peeked in to take
a look inside. In my uncle's bedroom, the blood in my veins turned cold.
My uncle was standing.
Near the window. He is an average height guy, but that night he seemed very tall. He was standing there with a small cutter knife in his hand. What he did next still gives me nightmares. He made a small cut on his own wrist and started to suck.
His own blood.
His eyes widened in excitement as his tongue felt the taste of blood. At that moment, I realized, whoever came back that day of the funeral is not my uncle anymore. I wanted to scream, but I also wanted others to see exactly what I was seeing.
I tiptoed to my parents' room and woke them up.
I then brought them downstairs and showed them the same monstrosity that I witnessed a few moments back.
My uncle's face was all red with blood and his eyeballs were red.
To I couldn't take this sight anymore and screamed when my uncle looked back at us and let out a demonic round.
He then shattered his glass window and escaped, like.
A creature from a different dimention. That was the last time I saw my uncle. Last winter, I took a trip to the Alps in Switzerland. I have a huge neck for traveling, so whenever I happened to save time and money from work, I set out on the roads. Being an American, I had zero knowledge of German or French, which are officially spoken in Switzerland. Luckily, I managed to find a B and B that belonged to an Indian guy,
hence I had no trouble communicating. The house I rented was a small wooden bungalow, perfect for a solo traveler. The owner told me his watchman lives nearby, so I won't be having any issue staying there. I was very excited about this trip, and going to Switzerland had always.
Been my dream.
After a long drive, when I finally made it to the location, my heart and mind started to dance in joy. The place was beautiful. There was a house in the distance on the foothills of the mountain. In front of the snow covered wooden bung stood a lake that was frozen like an iceberg.
There was another house bigger than mine.
That sat on the opposite side of me, so the frozen lake was like a division between these two houses. Hearing the sound of the cab a short slightly overweighted man came out of the house with a big smile on his face. I understood he is the watchman. He introduced himself to me and we exchanged greetings. He then picked up my luggage and went inside the house. I was about to follow him when I noticed the window of the house on the other side of the lake.
It happened in a fraction of a second, but I surely felt someone move away from the window, drawing the curtains, so I was being watched from the moment I stepped down from the cab, I uttered to myself, Welcome to the neighborhood. Even though the bungalow seemed simple from the outside, it was like a charm from the inside. The living room had a fireplace with antique designs carved on its mantle.
A revolving wooden staircase led to the bedrooms upstairs. It seemed like a pile of cotton, and I immediately wanted to jump in for a long needed nap. A small balcony was also attached to the bedroom to enjoy the view outside with a hot cup of coffee in the winter morning. In a few words, I was in love with the place. The moment I entered, the watchman was helpful. He started the fireplace and took me to the storage to show me the amount of food and groceries stocked
for my stay. I always loved cookie my food, and that's why I preferred be and be'es to hotel. He made me some hot chocolate and handed me over the keys to leave for home. Out of curiosity, I asked him who lives in the house opposite me, to which he replied an old man in his late fifties. It took me by a little surprise that an old man lives alone in that big house, but then I thought it's none of my business.
So I better let it be. The watchman had bit me good night, and I locked the door.
Once he left, I took a hot shower that washed off my stress, and then came down to the living room with my laptop and a pack of cigarettes. I poured him myself a glass of whiskey and set on a big arm chair near the fireplace to work on my article. I worked for an hour or so, and then had dinner and went to bed early. I was really tired, so once my head hit the soft pillow, sleep fell into my eyes like a sweet dream. Around two in the morning, I woke up hearing noises outside.
In my drowsy state of mind, it took me some time to figure out these noises, but after paying attention, it sounded like a little girl's laughter and a dog barking. I got up and walked to the window to look outside, but I didn't see anyone. I thought maybe it was a drunken dream, so I came back to bed and went to sleep again. The next morning, when I woke up, the valley looked even snowier. It seemed like there had
been heavy snowfall last night. I made myself a brewing cup of coffee and came out to the balcony to enjoy it like it supposed to. I must have taken two or three steps when I saw two tiny figures approaching behind a snow covered pine tree. Their cackles could be heard even from quite a distance. A little girl dressed in winter clothes came running near the frozen lake with her dog. The dog was so fluffy that it almost tumbled down the snow trying to.
Make its way. The little girl laughed like a ray of sunshine watching her dog. Is so funny.
A smile came to my face as well as witnessing these two playing in the snow. The dog was chasing the girl, barking loudly as she was dodging him.
Laughing like a pretty Barbie doll.
I was thinking to join them when my eyes went to the window of the neighboring house and I saw a weird looking old man sitting on his balcony with binoculars and staring at that kid. I mean, she was completely visible with naked eyes, so I didn't see any reason why this old man would be using binoculars like a creep. It could have been an issue of his eyesight, but the look on his face and the anxiety in his.
Movement disturbed me a bit.
He suddenly looked at me and immediately rushed inside in a hurry, as I caught him red handed in a crime. His behavior gave me the creep, so I decided to watch over this kid and her dog until her parents come for her. I yelled from my balcony, Hey, what's your name, kiddo, But she was so busy playing that she didn't look at me once. I came downstairs, thinking to join them, but as soon as I came out, they were gone. I felt bad disrupting them in the
middle of their fun time and came back inside. But I couldn't stop thinking about this freaky old man next door. For the next few days, I watched the girl and her dog come here and.
Play on the frozen lake.
I never saw any adult with him, and this old man always eyed them with his binoculars.
A week went by and I was on the.
Verse to speak up against the creepy behavior of the neighbor next door when something terrible happened to change my life forever. It was the coldest winter night and heavy snowfall was going outside. I was feeling a bit bored. Also, I didn't see that cute girl and her dog the entire day. I thought maybe her parents didn't let her out of the house today. Honestly, it did worry me a bit whenever they played on that lake. I mean, the ice surfaces are not that thick on every spot.
This is also a firm reason why I kept deny on them whenever they came to play. I couldn't feel more angry thinking about how irresponsible her parents are. Anyways, I was heavily drunk that night and dozed off on the living room couch. Around two thirty in the morning, I heard the little girl's laughter and the barking of the dog. I got up, thinking, what the hell are
they doing here so late? As I peeked outside the window, I saw the girl scanting on the frozen lake amidst the heavy snowfall, and her dog playfully jumping around her. I screamed, opening the window. You shouldn't be out here at this time. Did your parents know that you guys left the house in such weather? But as usual, she didn't look at me or pay any attention to what
I said. Suddenly my eyes went to the house on the other side of the lake, and I saw that old man coming out with a flashlight in his hand, walking to the girl at full speed. Oh my god, he is trying to abduct her, taking advantage of this stormy night. I couldn't stop myself anymore and came out barefooted, that too, in my pajamas, and started to run towards him.
No sooner did I reach the lake.
The little girl jumped one last time on the icy surface, and a loud cracking sound to place, followed by a splash and a faded scream, The little dog bark two, and soon the dog and the girl both drowned in the icy cold water of the lake.
The old man screamed in a sobbing tone.
Stop stop coming back and reminding me of my mistake, Kathy, stop doing this to your papa, and he crouched on the ground, covering his face and started to cry.
I shouted, saying, we need to help them. Holy shit, they are drowning. I was about to jump in the freezing water when the old man screamed.
Back, No, you can't shave them. What do you mean I can't.
They have been dead for the lash the twenty five years. I was about to scream at him for pulling this upsurd prank, when a sound of giggle came to my ears. I looked at the lake again and I saw that little girl and her dog playing on it, just like before. Their body seemed transparent and I could see through them. The girl then picked up her dog, and for.
The first time she walked into my eyes.
There were no eyeballs in them except dark hollows.
It was the same with her little dog as well.
She then giggled for one last time and vanished into the air. I don't remember what happened next, because I had probably fainted on the spot. When I woke up in the morning, I felt pain piercing my entire body, and the old man sitting right next to my bed with the watchman. Who who was she? What happened last night? The old man wiped his tears and said.
That was my daughter, Catherine. I used to call her Kathy. She was five years old then.
Every winter she used to come out of the house and play in the snow with her little dog, Casper. I remember how she laughed in enjoy seeing the white snow everywhere. One night, my wife and I were asleep in our room. I got drunk and forgot to lock the main door. That night, Kathy must have woken up, seen the snowfall and secretly went out to play, taking her dog with her. They were playing on the lake when the ice cracked and they fell into the icy
cold water. I came running, hearing their scream and immediately dove in looking for them, but her little body get lost in that evil lake. My wife went mad after her death and committed suicide after not being able to take this pain. But Kathy comes back often whenever a heavy snowfall takes place, she comes back to remind me of how it was my mistake, how it was my irresponsible deed that led to her death. I didn't know what to say after hearing this story, and I just
sat there with a pale face. Is it even possible? Can people come back again and again? Is there still life even after death?
Sponge?
I used to work as a living butler at a manor in the countryside for a very old and very wealthy man. His name was mister Benson, and while he was a little distant in crushety as old rich men tended to be. He always treated his staff with respect, and I felt like I was valued.
Working under him.
I'm sure that the other household servants, from the aids to his personal chef, also felt the same way. Most of us have been serving him for a decade or more, even if he was just our employer. You can't work for someone for that long without getting a little attached. We all knew that mister Benson didn't have much longer to live at his age, but we were determined to make his final years as comfortable as possible as thanks
for keeping us employed for so long. Each Christmas, mister Benson would leave the Manor to spend time with his family in the city.
Nine times out.
Of ten he would return to his ryal manner on Boxing Day the following morning looking pissed off. If I had to guess, it was probably because his family kept insisting that he put himself in a retirement home. Though I never pried him on him, I was still just his butler after all. On Boxing Day, the staff were pleasantly surprised when he came back from his Christmas trip with gifts for.
All of us.
Boxing Day in the UK was originally a holiday where masters would give their servants the day off alongside a boxed gift. While the practice has died down since not everyone had servants, mister Benson still gave us Boxing Day off as per tradition. However, his gifts were usually envelopes of cash rather than neatly wrapped presents. He gave us that day at his insistence, we all unwrapped the presents in front of him. Some of them let out a stifled squeeze when they realized what it was.
Each servant of.
The Manor get their very own golden box of luxury chocolates, myself included. Everyone thanked the old man for his thoughtful gift. Apparently it's true that everybody likes chocolate. I thanked mister Benson as well, though I knew I would never get to taste the chocolate he gave me. I was deathly allergic to the stuff, but I wasn't about to tell him that and ruined the gesture. Instead, I decided to use my day off to go do some Christmas charity of my own. With this gift, I drove to the
nearby city and walked into the nearest homeless shelter. They were holding a food drive where people were donating things like canned meat and cereal, stuff that last for a long time and keeps you fed, even if they don't taste too great.
I added the box of chocolates.
I got to that pile, thinking that I could help brighten someone's day.
The volunteer worker.
I handed the box of chocolates too, looked surprised when I handed it to her and asked if I was sure about giving something like that away. I told her that it was fine, since it was a gift, and since I'm allergic to chocolate. Anyways, it's better given to someone who can actually enjoy it. Once that was done, I spent the rest of my free day enjoying the festivities in the city before I had to return to the Manor. In the countryside, I went shopping with the
money I'd saved up over the year. I watched some cheesy but charming Christmas movies in the theater, treated myself to dinner at a trendy restaurant, and may have taken advantage of some sales to snag a couple of bottles of expensive whiskey.
All in all, I had a good time.
Once I'd exhausted all my Christmas cheer, I drove back to the Manor with a bag of Christmas goodies in the trunk. The first thing I saw when I walked through the manor door was one of the maids lying still on the floor. I recognized her as Clara, one of mister Benson's more recent hires. At first I assumed that she must have passed out drunk after having one less of Christmas brandy. To many I've been in her shoes before on my days off at the manor, though I at least had the decency to do so in
the privacy of my own bedroom. Being the head butler of the manner, I was already thinking of how to reprimand her for allowing such a shameful display. As I tried to gently shake her awake, Clara, wake up this instant. You're a servant, not a dog that can sleep on the floor. When she didn't wake up, I got worried. I put my hand on her forehead and recoiled in surprise when I found that it was ice cold to
the touch. My growing concern turned to outright horror when I placed two fingers to her neck and realized that she had no pulse. Everyone come quick, Something's happened to Clara. I shouted for everyone in the manner to hear, but no one gain. A pit formed in my stomach. Fearing the worst, I went deeper into the manner and came across the same scene. In every room. The servants of the house, my friends and colleagues whom I'd lived with worked with for years, all lay lifeless in each room.
I called the police on my phone, and they arrived within the hour. As I was giving one of them my statement, I overheard one of the officers investigating the scene behind me talking about it. No wounds or signs of struggle. Looks like another case of poisoning. Must have been the same guy who poisoned that homeless shelter earlier today,
But why would they do something like this? Minutes later, another officer came out of the master bedroom where mister Benson usually slept, holding a note signed by mister Benson himself. He told his colleagues that it looked like a suicide note and read it out loud for them to hear. To whom it may concern. Today will be my last day on this mortal coil. I know that old age will take me soon, but I am determined to die on my own terms rather than wait for the reaper claim me.
However, the thought of dying alone weighs heavy on me.
These past few years have only been made bearable by the aid of my cherished servants, whom I can imagine myself without it, even in the afterlife. I have poisoned them with my gift of chocolates. By the time anyone reads this, they will be dead, and I will have joined them. They did not suffer, for I have been told that the poison was painless to the loved ones they left behind.
Please do not fret.
I will love them in my next life as much as I did in this one.