The Stare

A girl was sitting on the subway late one night and she noticed that the woman sitting across from her was staring intently at her. The woman was sitting between two old men. The girl kept looking away, but the woman wouldn’t break eye contact with her. The stare was beginning to freak the girl out.

At the next stop, a new passanger got on. It was a tall man in a grey trenchcoat. He sat down next to the girl.

The woman paid no attention to the man in the trenchcoat. She just kept staring at the girl, who was getting more and more creeped out as time went on. The two old men didn’t even glance in her direction. She pretended not to notice, but each time she glanced at the strange woman the stare continued.

When the train was pulling into the next stop, the man in the trenchcoat got up to leave. Suddenly, he grabbed the girl’s arm tightly and as the doors opened, he dragged her off the train.

The subway doors shut and the train pulled off, leaving the girl alone on the platform with the man in the trenchcoat. She started screaming for help.

“Calm down”, said the man. “I just saved your life. I didn’t mean to scare you but I had to get you off that train. The woman sitting opposite you was dead and the two men beside her were propping her up. “

The White Death

I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Every moment could be my last. My friend is here with me and he is the sole reason why my life is in danger. It may not make sense at first, but let me explain.

It all started earlier today, when a friend of mine burst into my house and slammed the door behind him. His eyes were wide with fear and he stood there with his back against the door, breathing heavily. I asked him what had happened and he told me this story:

He had been living with his Aunt for the past year because his parents were in Mexico. They were doing mission work at a small hospital in Southern Mexico. The previous night, a bedraggled man had stumbled through the entrance of the hospital. He was screaming in Spanish and appeared to be out of his mind with terror.

They brought him over to a chair and let him sit down. As he caught his breath, he told his story in broken English. He claimed that his sister had been killed by something he referred to as “La Muerte Blanca”. He kept saying that it was coming for him next.

Confused, they asked him who or what a Muerte Blanca was. With a look of unfathomable fear on his face, he said that La Muerte Blanca was The White Death. She is the soul of a girl who died years ago. She died by her own hand, he said, alone and unloved. She hated life so much that she wanted to remove all traces of herself from the earth. So great was her desire to completely obliterate her memory, that she returned from the dead as a vengeful spirit, bent on killing all those who knew of her existence.

She is a girl, but not a girl, he said. She’s not dead, but not really alive. She has cold, black eyes that weep blood. She walks without ever actually seeming to move an inch. She stalks her victims like a wild animal, pursuing them across rivers and valleys, trailing them back to their homes. You are never really aware that she is following you, until you hear her telltale knock upon your door.

“She knocks once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh. Twice for your hair, which she’ll gnash between her teeth. Three times for your bones, which she’ll fashion into clubs. Four times for your heart, which she’ll tear out of your chest. Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box. Six times for your eyes, which she’ll pluck out one by one. Seven times for your soul, which she’ll swallow whole.”

“No matter where you go, The White Death will track you down and you will hear her terrible knocking begin on the door. You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than any mortal man. If you flee from your home while she’s knocking on your door, she will follow you wherever you go.”

The terrified man was certain that this thing had killed his sister. He had tried to tell the police, about The White Death but they would not listen, dismissing it as an old wives’ tale. Next, he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest immediately shut the door of the church in his face and turned him away. The priest had seen The White Death following him, he said, and did not want to get involved.

With his head in his hands, the frightened man said that The White Death follows you forever until you tell someone else about it. Then it strikes. It kills you and begins following the person you told.

After finishing his tale, the man stole a car from the mission hospital parking lot, and vanished into the night.

Apparently, my friend’s mother and father had immediately called his aunt and told her about the stange man they had encountered. They asked her if she had ever heard of the White Death. She said she had not and they proceeded to tell her the story that the man had told them.

The aunt got a phonecall later that night. It was the Mexican police. They told her that the parents had been found dead outside the hospital. They had been torn apart.

My friend’s aunt had immediately called him at school to break the bad news to him. As he cried, she told him she couldn’t understand what had happened. She recounted the whole story to him, telling him about the strange man who had turned up in the hospital just hours before his parents were found dead. She told him how the man had given his parents a weird and disturbing story about something called The White Death.

When he hung up the phone, he had struggled to come to terms with what had happened. It almost didn’t seem real to him. When he got home after school, he found the front door of his Aunt’s house standing open. Inside was a trail of blood, leading into the kitchen. There on the kitchen floor, he found his Aunt’s dead body. She had been torn limb from limb.

He ran out of the house and all the way across town, never looking back, until he reached my house. As he told me this story, I could hardly believe it. Within the space of a day, his mother, his father and his aunt had been murdered. It all seemed too far-fetched.

But before I could utter a word, my friend and I both recoiled in horror as we heard a knocking begin at my front door.

We’ve been staring at the door for an hour now, neither of us wanting to open it. The knocking is still going on, growing louder and louder. She never gives up. She never quits. La Muerte Blanca is unstoppable. I think she wants to scare us, my friend and I. I think she wants us to blame each other. And I do – I blame my friend. It’s all his fault. He should never have told about her.

As I sit here in my house, beside my friend, both of us listening to that hideous knocking growing ever louder, I wish a lot of things. I wish she had killed my friend before he reached my house. If he had never been able to tell me about her, I wouldn’t be in danger now. I’m sorry I ever met him.

And I’m sorry for you too. I’m sorry I made you read this story. I’m sorry I ever told you about the White Death. Because now that you know about her, she’ll be coming for you next.

Gecko, Gecko

There was a young man in his twenties, who moved into a new apartment in New York City. The night he moved in, he was lying awake in bed when he heard strange noises coming from his kitchen. When he turned on the lights, he was horrified to see hundreds of tiny cockroaches scurrying under the refrigerator and kitchen cupboards. He realized that his apartment was completely infested with cockroaches.

The next day, he asked one of his co-workers for advice about his cockroach problem. The co-worker said she had a similar problem and bought a pet gecko. She let the gecko loose at night and it took care of all the cockroaches.

That evening, after work, the young man visited a pet store and bought a pet gecko. When he got home, he let the gecko go out of its cage. It immediately scurried into the kitchen and disappeared under the refrigerator. Then he heard a “Gecko-Gecko” sound followed by a loud “Snap” as the gecko’s tongue caught hold of a cockroach and pulled it back into its mouth.

Days went by, and Howard saw fewer and fewer cockroaches. The gecko was doing its job well. Occasionally he would hear the tell-tale “Snap” of the gecko’s tongue and he knew it was catching the cockroaches and gobbling them up.

One day after work, he was making dinner for himself when he saw the gecko chase one of the last cockroaches on the house under the refrigerator. He saw the cockroach scurry under it with the gecko far behind struggling to go under. That’s when the young man realized that the gecko was getting bigger.

He didn’t see the gecko for days after that. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. Each time, it appeared to be bigger and bigger. One night, as he was lying in bed, he heard some strange noises in his room. Then he heard “Gecko, Gecko” and a loud “Snap!”

The next day, the young man was absent from work, but nobody thought anything of it. They just assumed he wasn’t feeling well and decided to take a sick day. When he didn’t show up the next day, or the next, his co-workers became very concerned and called the police. When the police knocked on the young man’s door, they got no answer. They broke down the door and entered the apartment.

In the bedroom, they found no traces of the young man, but were horrified to see an enormous gecko sitting on the bed. Its belly was huge and stretched and it just lay there lazily, regarding them with its big reptilian eyes. When they looked closer, they noticed something horrible. Sticking out of the corner of its mouth, there appeared to be a human foot.