Frightmares: A Collection of Scary and Disturbing Tales

By Scott D. Barber

A collection of four short stories to scare and shock you. First is a story about a young boy and his imaginary friend. Tommy's mother believes that her son's friend is pretend, but after some strange happenings in their house she is not so sure. Next up is a story about a guardian angel. Sara always thought that she had a guardian angel watching over her. Ever since she had been a child there had been numerous times that she narrowly avoide getting hurt or even killed. Was it really her guardian angel keeping her safe, or something else entirely. The third story is about a small town in Tennessee that had a curse placed on it by a witch over 200 years ago. Some people say that it is a story told to keep strangers away. You can make your own decision after hearing the Legend of Heaven Hill.The last story takes you deep inside the mind of a serial rapist. Hear in his own words why he chooses to live the life he does. What happens when one of his victims parents finds out who he is? Do they contact the police or make their own justice?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 31, 2009
• ISBN: 9781438987903

Scott D. Barber

Scott has always loved scary storys.Anything that goes bump in the night intrigues him. It seemed only natural to write a book of short stories to express himself. Some of the ideas in the stories are taken from events that happened inthe house he grew up in in Michigan.

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© 2009 Scott D. Barber. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 7/22/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4389-8790-3 (ebk)

ISBN: 978-1-4389-8789-7 (sc)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

PRETEND

GUARDIAN ANGEL

CURSE OF

THE WICKED

Prologue

A Brief History

The Curse

2008, Head East

Welcome to Heaven Hill

New Surroundings

The New Kid in Town

The Visitor

Secret Lovers

Familiar Faces

Boredom

On Hallowed Ground

Regrets and Revelations

The Call

Snowed In

Family Secrets

Eight Weeks Later

Birthday Wishes

Mistaken Identity

CONFESSION OF

A SERIAL RAPIST

Inside a Twisted Mind

The Annonymous Package

A Family’s Revenge

PRETEND 

Tommy sat in his closet eagerly waiting for his mom to bring in his lunch. He ate all of his meals there; in fact, that is where he spent most of his time. There was nothing particular about the closet; just somewhere Tommy told his mom he felt safe. He was a quiet six-year-old boy who seemed to keep himself entertained. He never had any friends at school or in the neighborhood.

His mom, Karen Fields, walked in carrying a tray, which had two plates; each contained a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and two glasses of milk. Tommy always asked for an extra plate of food for his pretend friend. He told his mom that he had a friend who lived in the house with them and that he was the best friend ever. He is the only friend I need, Tommy often said. His mother didn’t think it was strange that her son had an imaginary friend. After all, she had one when she was a little girl herself. What was peculiar was that almost every time she let her son eat his dinner in the closet, Tommy ate both plates of food! He has such a big appetite for a young boy, Karen thought to herself.

One spring day while Karen was doing the dishes, she glanced into the backyard to make sure Tommy was alright. What she saw made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Tommy was on the swing set swinging, and the swing next to him was moving too—almost like someone or something was sitting in it. It’s just the wind, she thought. It was a breezy day, after all. The thought seemed to satisfy Karen, and she went on about her housework.

This wasn’t the first time Karen had gotten a little freaked out. She often heard strange sounds coming from the basement and the closet Tommy played in most of the day. She would usually hear them when it was quiet in the house. Sometimes she would swear there was someone upstairs, but every time she would go and check, there was nothing. Frequently, Karen would awaken late at night and hear the faintest sound coming from the baseme3nt. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it sounded to her like something scraping against concrete. Just the pipes, she told herself. The house was over 110 years old after all. Eventually Karen had grown accustomed to the sounds and didn’t seem to notice them much anymore; at least she didn’t acknowledge them.

Tommy! Where are Mommy’s car keys? She had just come into the house and was certain she had set them on the table by the stairs. I don’t know, Mommy, Tommy told her. Things always seemed to come up missing in the house. Common things like keys, the remote to the television set, even Tommy’s toys and books weren’t where they would leave them. They wouldn’t stay missing for long. Most of the time she would find them hidden under a couch cushion, inside the pocket of a jacket hanging in the front entry closet, or back right where they should have been in the first place. Tommy likes to play hide-and-seek with me, she thought. What other explanation could there be?

Your house is haunted! Ann told Karen, adding a chuckle at the end. "Your house is inhabited by evil spirits who like to torment you by hiding your belongings and eating your food!" With that, Ann burst into laughter. Karen gave a half-hearted laugh herself. She tried to not let it show, but something made her think Ann might not be far off from the truth.

Ann was Karen’s best and only friend. They grew up together, went to school together, and even dated each other’s boyfriends back in their early twenties. Karen told her about Tommy’s pretend friend, about how she would have to make two plates of food and Tommy would come out of his closet later with the empty plates and glasses. She also told her about how he would hide her car keys and then they would show up later in the strangest spots. Of course Tommy would always say that he had nothing to do with it.

You know, Karen said to Ann, "I’m not saying this house is haunted, but something is going on here."

Have you ever looked into the history of your house? Ann questioned Karen. You should find out who lived in it before you, or if anything ever happened out of the ordinary.

No, I haven‘t, but maybe I should, Karen replied.

The next day, Karen took Tommy to the county library. Let’s go get some new books to read at bedtime, she told her son. Really she needed an excuse to give herself. She figured she would take Ann’s advice and look into the history of her house. She wasn’t expecting to find anything really, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to check.

I thought we were going to the library, Mommy? Tommy asked as their car stopped in front of a big brick building he had never seen before.

I just have to stop here for a few minutes first, sweetie, she told him, not wanting to give away what she was really doing.

Strolling into the Stone County Courthouse, Tommy looked up in awe at how high the domed ceiling was. Can we go all the way up to the top? he asked excitedly.

We will, as soon as I’m finished here, she told him. Karen checked with the registry of deeds and soon found her address: 427 Red Creek Road. The three-bedroom house was built in 1897 by a man named Benjamin Brass. He and his wife, Martha, lived there until 1937. A young man of only eighteen bought the house from Mr. Brass. The second owners were Frank and Lily Johnson. In 1944, the deed to the house was in the name of William and Lily Wright. It remained in their names until Karen’s husband, Phillip, bought the house in an estate sale in 1991.

Nothing unusual here, Karen thought. Maybe she could find something out at the library. Let’s go, Tommy, Karen called out to her boy.

But, Mom, you said we could go up to the top!

I almost forgot, Karen told him as his eyes gleamed with excitement like a boy on Christmas morning.

Karen let Tommy play in the children’s section while she went into the reference room to look up more history on her house. She sat down at the computer, pulled out the list of names of people who had lived in her house before, and began typing the first name.

Benjamin Brass: It seemed like Mr. Brass was a