Horror Stories 2 Packs Series

Enjoy this 2 pack bundle from Mace Styx. Feed the Beast: He lifted his head and froze with shock. Standing over him, over six feet tall, was a monstrous, goliath of a beast. It had hairs all over its body, staring like an overfed, violent, half-man, half-gorilla. His hair was locked, thick, and long to its waistline. It had red eyes, an enormous nose, crushed ears, and an ugly, twisted mouth. His fingers were long, sharp, and dirty. In his hand, were two long blades dripping with blood. A foul smell emanated from every part of him. Papito lay there, on the floor, as if his body was made of stone. Only his breathing made him alive. He wanted to talk. Scream, yank himself off and fight. But he lay frozen like a helpless stone. This was the ugliest and the most vicious beast he had ever seen in his young, wild life. As he opened his mouth to scream, to warn the men in the room, he felt something sharp hit him in his arms. Hunt: Amari was just right behind me, and I saw with my own eyes how the beast sunk its claws on his shoulders as he caught him. Amari’s scream of agony only lasted for a second. This freak of nature snapped his neck and tore him apart like a ragdoll. I made a sharp turn in hopes that I could escape from its line of sight, but the forest was unending. The entire woods felt like we were in the hunting ground of this monster. I was already out of breath, but I desperately kept on running. I was already losing hope as my tears began to fall. I didn’t find the others, and I also couldn’t tell if I was being followed. As I frantically looked around while blindly running across the shrubs, I fell on a hole that looked like it was a trap for boars. I got stabbed by a number of sharpened sticks installed on the ground. As I began to bleed, I forced to endure the pain when I heard some rustling from above.

Enjoy this 2 pack by Mace Styx. Sally “That’s enough Ryan. Let your dad go make his report. He has a big meeting this morning.” “I’ll be home later today son and you can tell me all about this strange dream you had ok.” No one was going to believe anything I said. I had to stop speaking before they start thinking I was crazy. Mom asked about it again later that day but I didn’t want to talk about it. She suggested that it was the stress from the previous day that gave me such a scary dream. I wanted to believe her but it was just too real. Later in the day, mom was in the kitchen learning new recipes for Christmas from a cookbook she found. She asked me to be her taste tester. But I wasn’t so interested because something else was on my mind. I told her that everything was good just so that I could entertain her and get out. Deep Ash “Guys, it’s open!” Robert inspected the door and called them. When they turned their heads, they saw him standing right next to the opened door of the dead tree. “I’m not getting inside that creepy thing,” said Marcela. “But we don’t have a choice. These crows are crazy. With that large number, we’ll be brutally torn to pieces if they attack us. Come on,” said Regan. He grabbed Marcela’s hand and walked back to the old tree. “Wait!” their guide Freddie suddenly yelled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there. I don’t want to believe the stories, but have you heard about the Baba Yaga?” he asked. “Yes, we do. A witch that was responsible for the missing people who enter the woods and never returned, Right? That’s why we are here to begin with. But seriously, now is not the time to believe in such BS. It’s getting really dark and I don’t want to be the dinner of those crazy crows,” Robert responded.

Enjoy Poppet by Mace Styx. (Almost whispering) “In reality, in real actual life, that kind of magic doesn’t belong to one group and the object doesn’t have to look like them at all. It doesn't even have to look like a person. As long as you wish, dream and know hard enough, it can be anything. A stick, a leaf, a piece of fruit, a candle. My Grandmother used to do with an egg. She would write the name of the person onto the surface of a hen’s egg and then...picking up a rock she would smash! Smash! Smash! the top, so that it fractured and dented, yolk spilling and oozing out everywhere! (Quietly) The next day you would hear that the named person had experienced a very nasty accident. Enjoy Putrid by Mace Styx: Standing in a room filled with sharp and heavy objects I had seen some form of I don’t know what, an apparition? A ghost? Yet, I had not been harmed. Standing stock still, I considered. In those stories, those urban legends and public warnings about the dangers of discarded appliances there was no malevolent element, no wicked long toothed demon emerging through the wires. Shaking my head and sure that I would probably regret the decision, I did possibly the bravest and possibly the stupidest thing I have ever done. I went back into the room. The fridge door was still wide open, the gaping chasm and its grisly contents shielded from view. Holding the top of the door I stepped around it and again reluctantly peered inside. Lank, innocent celery, days old bean salad and the same squat, mocking tomatoes. Nothing sinister. I closed the fridge door and was oddly unsurprised to find that the letters had changed once again. This time, to a name. “David Franks”, and a set of numbers. Numbers, I almost recognized.

Shadow:It was a Monday. Monday was the day grandma got her medicine. She took some pill that some white-coated doctor told us would keep her alive, if only for a little while. I walked to the pharmacy a couple of blocks away through the rain. Careful to avoid the divots and dips in the beat-up sidewalk where puddles were beginning to form. There’s an old store that sells rugs and carpets between Grandma’s and the pharmacy. I wove through a small crowd of disappointed people exiting the store, beneath the broken neon red sign that read Jackson pet instead of Jackson Carpet, leading would-be pet owners astray. The red luminescent glow of the misnomer blurred on its edges through the drizzle and fog. One customer had brought her dog along with her. A young, well dressed and well-accessorized woman was knocking in quick bursts on the wood-framed glass door of the shop. Seemingly not understanding the miscommunication the sign had presented, even after seeing a stockpile of rolled-up rugs waiting in the store beyond. Her white-knuckle fist gripped a long, fuzzy velvet leash that strangled a fat, wrinkly old Rottweiler. The ancient beast struggling to keep up, letting itself be dragged behind along the wet pavement like a sack of old potatoes. Cord: The Reaper did not speak. He did not even move, for what need did he have to chase anyone? Everyone comes to him eventually. Men, women and gods all are consumed in his ever waiting black. Clive, sighing deeply, turned to look Death in the face. In the form he took for Clive, Death stood around seven feet tall. The hood of his monk’s cowl falling to just above the bridge of the nose, had there been a nose to speak of. Instead, there was simply a hole, a cavernous nothing, like death itself, that hung like a cave above the fixed death's head smile. The unmoving, unflappable grin of the skull, never to be bargained with, never to be moved.

Tenant: “No.” She admitted, guiltily. “I am sorry. If I enter the darkness, it would grab me before I can fetch you anything to get the fire going.” Sam nodded. He had faced death before. But every time, there was hope, a fighting chance. This time, he could do nothing. “What would happen to you after it kills me?”Emily visibly shuddered. “He will have me, place its scythe through my soul. It allows it to control the agony my soul receives. Then, until the morning, I will keep suffering. Every moment feels like an eternity. I might switch to my other personalities, just to escape the pain.”Sam nodded. So she knew about her condition. He mindlessly reached his gun. At that moment, he truly felt helpless, and at least, he wanted to go out on his own terms.“You have a gun?” Emily asked, eyes wide. “Yes.” He said, but before he could do anything, Emily slapped him.“You idiot, there is gun powder in these bullets right? You can light anything on fire with that." Bortos: I remember waking once from a horrible dream, in which I looked down and saw the clown’s enormous mouth, its massive, wall sized face at the end of my bed and felt myself being dragged… dragged though I kicked and screamed, fighting against the covers. Thrashing and flailing for purchase, closer and closer to the red rimmed mouth, filled with murderous hanging teeth that waited, hungry to chew and devour me as the clown continued to smile. Sometimes I would look at the black. The space painted in for the mouth. In the daylight, you could clearly see that it was black paint. You could even sort of make out the brickwork beneath the paint. But at night, at night the clown's fixed smile seemed warped around a space that seemed not to end with the wall, but to extend back, further and further, like a pathway or a tunnel that would go on forever.

Lico: He looked as if he couldn’t believe what he seeing, and he was both confused and alarmed. He was struggling to explain what he was seeing in English and just decided to convey it with some hand gestures. He showed the two travelers a trace of something that slithered on the ground with a body of at least two feet thick. Jade questioned their guide’s judgement and began to explain to him that what he was describing was borderline mythical. As Jade was explaining, their attention was caught by a sound of rustling in the trees. Hakim carefully moved towards where the noise came from, and his eyes suddenly widened. He pointed to a tree that was roughly ten meters from where they were at… and he whispered “Agogwe! Agogwe!” while desperately trying to contain his excitement from the volume of his voice. Both Dane and Jade had no idea what he was getting all excited about. They steadily stared at the leaves on the branches of the trees that Hakim pointed out, but they could not see anything out of the ordinary. Not far from that tree, they then saw some movements behind the tall bush. Elly: As expected, Elly had her head and eyes pointed down at the party. She remained seated on the couch, keeping to her shy self, and refused to mingle with the other students no matter how Hazel tried to push. In Hazel’s mind, her friend had to build some confidence when interacting with others whether she wanted to or not. Hazel kept on handing her cups of punch which she kept on drinking since she had nothing else to do. After just a few cups, the alcohol kicked in, & Elly began to finally loosen up a bit. She finally lifted her head and looked up at the people around her.