31 Days of Halloween: Please Take Just One | A Creepypasta by Umbrello

I was thirteen years old when I stopped trick-or-treating. The other kids weren’t so eager to give up free candy, but something happened that year… something awful.

My friends, Owen, Drew and I were out trekking for candy when we came to a house that had a big bowl of it sitting on the porch. A sign above it read: Please take just one.

We joked about swiping it all, but Owen and Drew only took a few each; enough to make them feel like badass kids. I’d always been afraid to take more than one because I was intimidated by authority. Sure, it was just a sign, and it usually meant that the owner wasn’t home, but I was a timid kid who always did what he was told. Owen and Drew explained how that house did the same thing every year and that people rarely saw the guy who lived there. They dared me to do what they were too chicken to, so I decided to see what it felt like to do something naughty.

We looked around to make sure no one was watching, and I poured the contents of the bowl into my bag. The three of us ran down the street laughing and shoving each other. Part of me expected someone to chase after us. In hindsight, I was right to be concerned.

At Owen’s house, we dumped out and sorted all of our yummy treasures. I tried to offer him and Drew some of the contraband candy, but they refused. I remember Owen saying, “That’s all you, dude,” and Drew shouting, “I don’t want your tainted treats!” Granted, they weren’t entirely serious, but I was annoyed that they weren’t sharing in the responsibility; enough to go home instead of sleeping over.

That night, I was torn from a sugar fueled dream by a hand over my mouth and a knife to my neck. The skin was rough and the blade was ice cold. It was just slightly pressing into my skin, ready to slit my throat at a moment’s notice. My body went stiff. I wanted to scream, but then a gruff voice whispered, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” At first, I didn’t realize what was happening. Were we being burglarized? Then I got my answer.

“Can’t you read, you little shit? The sign said ‘just one’. Just… fucking… one!” I’ll never forget those words, and the sickening smell of his breath. He went on to explain how every year he would catch kids taking two or three pieces of candy, which always infuriated him. It wasn’t until I took the entire bowl that he finally snapped. Why did I do something so stupid? I was terrified and humiliated at the same time.

“You like candy, you little shit?” he asked me, so I shook my head as much as I could despite his hand pressing against my face. He then removed it, still holding the knife to my neck, and proceeded to shove unwrapped candy into my mouth. I tried not to inhale but I couldn’t help it. I could feel things pushing against the back of my throat as I whimpered and drooled. I started to gag, but he put his hand back over my mouth so I wouldn’t cough anything up. I truly believed I was going to die, and I feared for my friends as well.

My short life flashed quickly before my eyes. All I could think in that moment was, “How could an adult hate children this much?” Everything I presumed about them was suddenly a lie. They weren’t infallible and their authority wasn’t always law. Fine, so I took all this guy’s candy. Did I really deserve to die? As I contemplated this for the first time, expecting to suffocate to death, my father rushed into the room, grabbed my metal desk chair and beat the living daylights out of the guy. I never loved my dad so much as I did that night.

I’m an adult now, and I live alone in a nice house on a quiet street with lots of kids. Every Halloween, I leave a basket on my front stoop full of candy with a sign that reads: Take as many as you want.

Original Story

Music/background by Myuu

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Two Scary Boy Scout Stories

 

These stories were sent to me anonymously over email and are allegedly true.
Watch these videos on Scary Story Time with Spooky Boo

Someone Attacked Our Scout Camp

One summer I went camping with my troop and it was the last time that I had camped. I didn’t stop camping because of what happened, I just grew out of it but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t scare the crap out of me.

It was late one night and our chaperone fell asleep early. He normally didn’t do this, but we think that he was coming down with something during the trip. We let him fall asleep then we all huddled by the fire and told scary camping stories while we roasted marshmallows. At about 10 PM we all went to our tents to sleep. Of course, we didn’t sleep. We did the Morse code we learned that day through our tents to talk to each other. It was pretty funny since we didn’t know what we were really saying and guessed most of it.

At about an hour later we all started to fall asleep tent by tent. I was almost there, kind of half dreaming and half away when I heard footsteps outside my tent. I thought they were the footsteps of our counselor, but they were weird. It was almost as if one foot was a lazy foot and would drag behind the other one. I unzipped my tent and peered out. There was a man who looked like an old hunter with a plaid shirt and a huge knife just walking around the camp. He was getting into all of the boxes and ice chests, pretty much ignoring the tents. Then he started snooping around the actual tents. First he went to Robby’s tent. He unzipped it and peered in then closed it. He did this to each tent until he got to mine. I fell back and pulled the sleeping bag over my head.

“I know you’re awake.” he grumbled.

I was shivering, ready to pee my pajama pants. He hadn’t hurt the others so I’m sure that he wouldn’t hurt me. Then I thought about what would happen if he knew I saw his face? A million scenes ran through my mind, none of them good.

“I have an old hog to cut up,” I watched the tip of his knife run down the side of my tent. “You can come watch if you want. They bleed a lot. I think you would like it.”

Tears welling in my eyes, I pulled the sleeping bag further over my head.

“I bet you bleed a lot too.” he laughed.

Then I heard our boxes getting kicked over or thrown. He was pouring our drinks out when the camp chaperone came out of his tent, probably because of all the noise.

“Hey! What’s going on?” he shouted at the guy and I could hear him trying to dial the numbers on his cell phone while forgetting we didn’t have service where we were. It must have scared the creep away because I could hear the bushes rustling near by as he hobbled off.

The next morning we packed everything up and went to the park ranger’s station to report the incident and ultimately the police. I had a slice in my new tent that I wasn’t too happy about. There were no reports of anyone living in the area that resembled the old man except about 20 years back some old guy fell off one of the cliffs over the river and was thought to have drowned. He had a limp from his leg not completely working right where it was bit by a dog from a campsite he was raiding. Everyone thought he was dead, but obviously he isn’t.

The End

Something Weird in the Woods. Bigfoot Maybe?

I was a Boy Scout growing up and had a lot of fun with some life long friends. There is one camping incident that really stuck in my head. The chosen spot was one we all had to hike to. We had out backpacks and gear and made it up the trail. It was about 85 degrees outside and it felt like 120 carrying the backpacks and our other supplies. There were cabins at the top of the hill and a nice little campground. Our Scout leader wanted us to experience the hiking so he had parked his car up at the campsite for any emergencies before he hiked up the hill with us.

Once we got there, we unpacked everything and were really relieved that we had little cabins to stay in as it was kind of cold at night in the mountains. We setup camp and by the time we were done, it was dinner time. We cooked hotdogs over the fire and while we ate we went over a few details about camping, poison oak, and a little bit of history of our troop. Then we started to tell urban legend stories. One kid asked if we had heard about Bigfoot. Of course all of us had so we laughed about it. No one really believed it. He was ridiculed for the rest of the night until we all went to bed.

While we were all sleeping in our cabins that night, something got into all of our supplies. Whatever it was did it real quiet like because none of us woke up during the night. Our food was scattered everywhere. Our counselor said it was probably a skunk and we were lucky that we didn’t see it or we would spend the rest of the trip smelling. We helped him salvage what was left and locked it in his car. Luckily for us, he already had brought extra knowing something like this would happen so we were still well fed and ready for the next few nights.

The next night while we were sleeping I awoke to this really weird grunting noise. Thinking that it might be a skunk, I didn’t look at first but then I heard heavy, padded footsteps. Curious, I peered through the cabin window and suddenly couldn’t breathe as I saw it. It was this ape like thing. About 9 feet tall and really super hairy. It had a face that looked more human than ape though. I slid to the floor pulling my knees to my chest. I wasn’t going to let this thing know I was awake.

The next morning the campsite looked normal except when the counselor went to his truck we could hear all kinds of swearing. We ran over and saw what had happened. There were big claw marks in the side of the door where something tried to pry the door open.

“I saw a creature last night. It was real hairy and look like a man. Maybe he did it?”

The counselor looked over at me, slightly annoyed. “What probably did this was a bear. What you saw was probably in a dream from all of those Bigfoot stories you guys were telling.”

I was insulted and upset. I wasn’t one to argue with people who were older than I so I just held it inside. The next night though, something weird had happened. When I woke up my cabin door was ajar and someone had left a trail of food to my cabin. There was more cursing and yelling by our counselor as he looked at his now opened door on the other side of the car. Someone had pried it open somehow.

He looked directly at me then at the trail of food. “Get hungry last night?”

“Um no. It wasn’t me. I just woke up.”

He started to run at me and I ran back into my cabin and shut the door. It was then when I saw the footprints on the dusty floor. They were big prints, much too big for a human, but in human form. I moved away from the door and let the counselor in. He stopped yelling when he saw the print.

“Did you just draw that in the dust? Don’t lie now.”

“No,” I stammered.

He looked around the cabin and found some long hair that resembled dog hair stuck in one of the drawers. “Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

“OK You’re off the hook. Something is going after our food.”

The next night we put the food in the big cabin and we all slept in there. In the middle of the night there was a lot of banging in the cabins and in the car outside. Something tried to open the big cabin’s door several times then stopped. Whatever or whoever it was was smart enough to know how to turn a door handle. When we went out in the morning there were huge footprints coming to and leaving from the cabin.

I never went camping again.

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Scary Story Time: Am I Crazy? I Have to Tell You Something

I have to tell you something. Sorry, I need to tell you something. A secret. About a place near where I live, just around the corner actually. It has taken me 2 years to finally tell you this You do not have to believe me. I understand that it may sound crazy. All I know is that I will never go there again. Not at night anyway. For I have experienced what lies within those endless trees.
I was 14. I had heard rumours about the woods and my mother had told me to never go in there, not even in the daylight. She told me it was dangerous.

I used to always defy my mother, so I went in there with a couple of friends one night. The walk there was fine; I was eager to go to these so called dangerous woods. When reached our destination, my heart already began to thump against my chest. The woods looked terrifying at night. I stood horrified amongst my friends. I no longer wanted to go inside. The trees towered over us, its branches like open arms welcoming us into darkness. It was too dark to see what lied within them. Not even the moon could light up the shadows.

I had an uneasy feeling about the woods, and I begged my friends that we should go home. As you might guess, it pissed them off. I had dragged them out there and now I was backing out. It’s not like me to back out of things, but I did not want to go into those woods.

We argued amongst ourselves. My friends were all against me and thus the decision was decided that we go into the woods.

And so, we went in.

The next morning news broke out that a group of 14-year-old boys had been butchered to death in the woods.

I felt nothing for them. I told them I did not want to go into those woods. I told them I had an uneasy feeling about that place. I was scared.

I remember it so clearly.

The four of them had decided to tell ghost stories just to add to my fear. One told of a man who lived in the woods, a lover for children’s flesh. He would take them from behind when they were wandering through the woods alone and would—

That’s when my friends decided to run off. I chased after them, trying to follow their laughter. It wasn’t long before my ears had guided me into another direction and silence surrounded me.

I was scared so much that I began to cry. Not something that a 14 year-old-boy should be doing. But I was fucking scared.

My eyes couldn’t adjust to the light and I was left standing in what seemed like endless black fog. This is how I pictured hell.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that story. I had horrible thoughts of how it ended. I was convinced it was real.

Terrified, I started a slow jog through the woods. I know it sounds stupid, but sprinting just makes it feel more scary. I had picked up a rather large branch that had obviously snapped off of one of the trees. Not much of a weapon but, but it would have to suffice. Then I tried to find my way out.

It seemed like I had been running for ages. Maybe I had been running in circles. I tried turning around and running in a different direction.

After maybe a few hours of running, I saw a light through the trees. A street light. I gave a sigh of relief and sprinted towards the light when something grabbed hold of my shoulder.

My heart stopped. I stopped breathing. My eyes were glued to the light. So close. I let out a tear.

It laughed. Then three other laughs followed. It was my friends. They continued to laugh and started to jeer.

Out of pure anger, fear and humiliation I gripped onto the broken tree branch and beat all four of them to death. I could not see their blood, but I could smell it.

I smiled.

You don’t have to believe me? I understand it may sound crazy.

Or maybe I’m crazy?

Story by: Anonymous
CC BY-SA 3.0
Music by: Myuu

 

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Two Scary Boy Scout Camping Stories by Anonymous Readers

 

Someone Attacked Our Scout Camp

One summer I went camping with my troop and it was the last time that I had camped. I didn’t stop camping because of what happened, I just grew out of it but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t scare the crap out of me.
It was late one night and our chaperone fell asleep early. He normally didn’t do this, but we think that he was coming down with something during the trip. We let him fall asleep then we all huddled by the fire and told scary camping stories while we roasted marshmallows. At about 10 PM we all went to our tents to sleep. Of course, we didn’t sleep. We did the Morse code we learned that day through our tents to talk to each other. It was pretty funny since we didn’t know what we were really saying and guessed most of it.
At about an hour later we all started to fall asleep tent by tent. I was almost there, kind of half dreaming and half away when I heard footsteps outside my tent. I thought they were the footsteps of our counselor, but they were weird. It was almost as if one foot was a lazy foot and would drag behind the other one. I unzipped my tent and peered out. There was a man who looked like an old hunter with a plaid shirt and a huge knife just walking around the camp. He was getting into all of the boxes and ice chests, pretty much ignoring the tents. Then he started snooping around the actual tents. First he went to Robby’s tent. He unzipped it and peered in then closed it. He did this to each tent until he got to mine. I fell back and pulled the sleeping bag over my head.
“I know you’re awake.” he grumbled.
I was shivering, ready to pee my pajama pants. He hadn’t hurt the others so I’m sure that he wouldn’t hurt me. Then I thought about what would happen if he knew I saw his face? A million scenes ran through my mind, none of them good.
“I have an old hog to cut up,” I watched the tip of his knife run down the side of my tent. “You can come watch if you want. They bleed a lot. I think you would like it.”
Tears welling in my eyes, I pulled the sleeping bag further over my head.
“I bet you bleed a lot too.” he laughed.
Then I heard our boxes getting kicked over or thrown. He was pouring our drinks out when the camp chaperone came out of his tent, probably because of all the noise.
“Hey! What’s going on?” he shouted at the guy and I could hear him trying to dial the numbers on his cell phone while forgetting we didn’t have service where we were. It must have scared the creep away because I could hear the bushes rustling near by as he hobbled off.
The next morning we packed everything up and went to the park ranger’s station to report the incident and ultimately the police. I had a slice in my new tent that I wasn’t too happy about. There were no reports of anyone living in the area that resembled the old man except about 20 years back some old guy fell off one of the cliffs over the river and was thought to have drowned. He had a limp from his leg not completely working right where it was bit by a dog from a campsite he was raiding. Everyone thought he was dead, but obviously he isn’t.

The End

Something Weird in the Woods. Bigfoot Maybe?

I was a Boy Scout growing up and had a lot of fun with some life long friends. There is one camping incident that really stuck in my head. The chosen spot was one we all had to hike to. We had out backpacks and gear and made it up the trail. It was about 85 degrees outside and it felt like 120 carrying the backpacks and our other supplies. There were cabins at the top of the hill and a nice little campground. Our Scout leader wanted us to experience the hiking so he had parked his car up at the campsite for any emergencies before he hiked up the hill with us.

Once we got there, we unpacked everything and were really relieved that we had little cabins to stay in as it was kind of cold at night in the mountains. We setup camp and by the time we were done, it was dinner time. We cooked hotdogs over the fire and while we ate we went over a few details about camping, poison oak, and a little bit of history of our troop. Then we started to tell urban legend stories. One kid asked if we had heard about Bigfoot. Of course all of us had so we laughed about it. No one really believed it. He was ridiculed for the rest of the night until we all went to bed.

While we were all sleeping in our cabins that night, something got into all of our supplies. Whatever it was did it real quiet like because none of us woke up during the night. Our food was scattered everywhere. Our counselor said it was probably a skunk and we were lucky that we didn’t see it or we would spend the rest of the trip smelling. We helped him salvage what was left and locked it in his car. Luckily for us, he already had brought extra knowing something like this would happen so we were still well fed and ready for the next few nights.

The next night while we were sleeping I awoke to this really weird grunting noise. Thinking that it might be a skunk, I didn’t look at first but then I heard heavy, padded footsteps. Curious, I peered through the cabin window and suddenly couldn’t breathe as I saw it. It was this ape like thing. About 9 feet tall and really super hairy. It had a face that looked more human than ape though. I slid to the floor pulling my knees to my chest. I wasn’t going to let this thing know I was awake.

The next morning the campsite looked normal except when the counselor went to his truck we could hear all kinds of swearing. We ran over and saw what had happened. There were big claw marks in the side of the door where something tried to pry the door open.

“I saw a creature last night. It was real hairy and look like a man. Maybe he did it?”

The counselor looked over at me, slightly annoyed. “What probably did this was a bear. What you saw was probably in a dream from all of those Bigfoot stories you guys were telling.”

I was insulted and upset. I wasn’t one to argue with people who were older than I so I just held it inside. The next night though, something weird had happened. When I woke up my cabin door was ajar and someone had left a trail of food to my cabin. There was more cursing and yelling by our counselor as he looked at his now opened door on the other side of the car. Someone had pried it open somehow.

He looked directly at me then at the trail of food. “Get hungry last night?”

“Um no. It wasn’t me. I just woke up.”

He started to run at me and I ran back into my cabin and shut the door. It was then when I saw the footprints on the dusty floor. They were big prints, much too big for a human, but in human form. I moved away from the door and let the counselor in. He stopped yelling when he saw the print.

“Did you just draw that in the dust? Don’t lie now.”

“No,” I stammered.

He looked around the cabin and found some long hair that resembled dog hair stuck in one of the drawers. “Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

“OK You’re off the hook. Something is going after our food.”

The next night we put the food in the big cabin and we all slept in there. In the middle of the night there was a lot of banging in the cabins and in the car outside. Something tried to open the big cabin’s door several times then stopped. Whatever or whoever it was was smart enough to know how to turn a door handle. When we went out in the morning there were huge footprints coming to and leaving from the cabin.

I never went camping again.

 

 

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Did I Witness a Murder In Bodega Bay?

 

Another story that happened to me. My mother and her friends went to The Tides in Bodega Bay for dinner. I was about 12 years old when this happened and it was freaky. This really cute guy was working there and he was always smiling at me. I didn’t look 12 so it’s not like he was some perv. I became really bored sitting there listening to my mom and her friends so I went to go sit in the car to listen to the radio.

After going out to the car I watched this cute guy and a woman who looked like possible a waitress go out the back door. They were fighting and went back to the boats. I think he had even hit her before she ran back there. A few minutes later I heard her scream. It could have been a seagull, but I’m pretty sure it was a woman screaming. I was terrified. When he saw me he started walking toward the car and just then my mom and her friends walked out.

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Scary Story Time: DOLLS

 

For a decade every morning little girls would find dolls on their doorstep. People figured it was the old eccentric woman on the hill making home made dolls. No one ever figured there was something wrong with the dolls until their searched the woman’s home. Some say she still haunts the neighborhood and sometimes they find dolls!

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