The Midnight Hour & Other Scary Stories

The Take Back

It started with a dare. William had never heard of the Take Back before then and he had lived in that small town most of his life. He'd heard whispers of something that lived in the junkyard, sure, but nothing like what his friends said.

They called it the Take Back because if you took from it, it would take back what was stolen, and often much more. It's why kids stayed away from the old junkyard, they said.

William just thought it was because the owner had gone missing and the whole place was condemned. Kids liked to make up stories about abandoned places like that. Honestly, he didn't really think there would be anything in the old junkyard, aside from scrap and old memories.

But then came the dare.

"I bet you can't spend one night in the old junkyard." They told him.

"Willy is probably way too scared!"

So William accepted the dare, but on one condition. His friends had to be there too. So, they all agreed that they would spend the entire night in the junkyard.

William didn't tell his parents for fear that they would stop him. A dare, after all, was a sacred thing. A kid's honor was on the line.

So, William met his friends in front of the great junkyard gates at close to midnight. Midnight, after all, was the time when anything spooky was to happen.

The junkyard looked very eerie too. A fog was rolling in from the hills and twisting its way through the rust and metal. There was nothing to be afraid of though. The Take Back wasn't real. They would be fine.

A large sign hung from the gate. It said, Theft is not allowed here. Those that steal will be punished accordingly.

Creepy.

William was the first to enter. He held his head high and his flashlight close. The others followed him, though a little more slowly. Their group stuck close together and didn't dare break away. The junkyard, after all, was a maze. One wrong turn and a person was liable to lose their way.

But, as William noticed, something seemed very odd with the piles of junk and clutter. They were coated with a black sort of liquid that stunk terribly. The closer they came to the center of the junkyard, the stronger the odor became.

Thankfully, the way forward was clearly marked. Strange statues, the kind you might find in a different time, lined the path. They looked like people, but not quite; things half-formed or half-remembered. They watched William and the others with hollow eyes.

Soon, the group found themselves looking over a very deep and very dark hole at the center of the junkyard. It almost looked like a well, but far larger.

Even with their flashlights, they couldn't see the bottom. It was pitch black and seemed to go on forever.

"They say that the owner was pushed in." One of William's friends said in a ghastly voice. "It's a hole that leads straight to hell, or something worse."

"Worse than hell?" William asked.

They nodded. "A place between stars where light doesn't go; cold and black. If you listen, you can still hear him screaming."

"You cannot!" William said defiantly.

"You can! Listen!" And they invited him to put his ear closer to the hole.

William listened intently. As he strained to hear, he began to feel a little foolish. Of course, there wouldn't be someone still falling! William chided himself for being willing to even try.