Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south American country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south American country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…
* Once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
* Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
* Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
* Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.
* Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.
* Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
* Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Nice knowing you guys, it’s been funjklm,.-
WITNESS
* Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
* Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Nice knowing you guys, it’s been funjklm,.-
WITNESS
---
Let's talk, shall we? Let's talk about fear.
What scares you? Is it the dark? When shadows seem to move around, even after you've closed your eyes?
i could swear that something moved there
Is it being alone at home? When something, anything could happen, and no one would be there to help you?
someone's knocking on the door. aren't you going to answer it?
Face your back to an empty space. Does it make you feel exposed, and so horribly vulnerable?
something cold touches the back of your neck
Silence. Any oppressive silence, so heavy, it's almost too loud. And you voice seems to catch in you throat. You can't sing, you can't whistle, you
MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP
can't do anything but listen to that silence.
....
Okay, I think I'm done playing.
So. Being a (mostly) english-educated Singaporean, I think I'm fairly exposed to both Western and Eastern superstitions, legends and horror stories.
In my opinion, Caucasians seem to fear the unknown. Most of their horror movies are about unseen forces that wreck havoc; you don't get to see the ghost till the end. (Anyone watched "A Haunting" on Discovery Channel? )
The thing is; Asians treat the supernatural as a part of their every day lives, and (once again, my opinion) most Westerners try their very best to ignore what they cannot understand.
Western horror movies are far gorier than Asian ones. The Asian ones normally have the corpse-like people walking, well, stumbling around, and popping up at unexpected moments. Once you turn off the sound, it isn't scary anymore. And I especially love the twists and turns of plots in Asian horror stories; I watched the Thai movie "Alone" last week, and for once, I was able to guess the huge twist in the plot. : D
Asian lore is filled with superstition and vengeful spirits. I guess what we fear most is the fact that someone we love can't rest peacefully.
Another difference between Western and Asian horror movies. Does anyone realise that Western horror movies tend to have a more conclusive ending than Asian ones? And they tend to have happier endings. I wonder... Does that have show something about the difference between the minds of the Asians and Westerners?
One thing in common though. As human beings, we seem to be fascinated by fear. We know reading Stephen King is disturbing, yet his books continue to be bestsellers. Some of us get nightmares for a week after watching a horror movie, yet we keep going back for more. New horror movies come out every month, and after some time, the plots get old. And once again, we troop off to the cinema to watch them. And people still play Ouija boards despite all the stories and warnings we hear. Russell Lee's "True Singapore Ghost Stories" have over 15 books now, and are still selling like hot cakes.
My conclusion. We're a bunch of people with plenty of time to spare. Hence the amount of urban legends, horror stories you find on the internet, the number of horror movies, the superstitions grow from our natural curiosity.
And because I just can't resist
---
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbours called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
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All the stories were taken from
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/general-discussion/ewww-thats-just-creepy-share-some-stories-bishes/t.20828029_1/
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