Nightmare Soup Tales That Will Turn Your Stomach

Mr. Wilson

"He still hasn't moved." Jake peered over the wooden fence,

looking at the brand-new baseball, they had just knocked into Mr.

Wilson's yard.

Tim climbed up right next to him. "Are you sure? It's been like

3 hours."

"I'm telling you, he hasn't even flinched. He just sits there

staring at us."

Old Man Wilson sat on his front porch glaring at the two boys.

He wore dark glasses, a green, beat-up trucker hat, and tattered,

worn overalls.

Another hour passed and Jake was growing impatient. "I'm just

gonna go over there and ask for the ball."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Come on Jake, you know you can't do

that. Old Man Wilson has never let anyone in his yard. You

remember Matt? He went over there and never came back. Danny

said he was skinned alive."

"That's ridiculous. Matt moved to Mooresville. Danny doesn't

know what he's talking about."

"Okay then, go ahead and go over there," Tim dared.

"Fine, I will." Jake started walking across the street, his eyes

fixated on Old Man Wilson sitting in his chair. His skin was

leathery, almost like wax, and his face was constantly crumpled

into an angry scowl.

Jake suddenly turned around and walked back. "Let's just wait

until dark."

Tim chuckled. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

A few more hours ticked away and night set in. The Moon

hung in the sky like a spotlight.

The two boys were still watching from across the street.

Tim squinted his eyes. "What if he's asleep?"

Jake took a sip of soda. "What if he's dead..."

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do." Jake pointed to the empty

lot right next to Old Man Wilson's property.

"He can't watch both of us. You walk over to that empty lot,

and I'll head to the very end of the fence. You start making lots of

noise, and that's when I'll jump over and grab the baseball. Got

it?"

Tim stood up. "I got it."

"Okay, let's do this."

Jake snuck across the street to the edge of the fence. He

crouched down, waiting to hear Tim yelling and making a ruckus.

"Hey, Old Man Wilson! Look over here!" Tim screamed at the

top of his lungs.

Jake's heart started racing. He pulled himself over the fence

and dropped down into Old Man Wilson's backyard.

He sprinted towards the baseball lying alone in the grass. Just

as his hand touched it, a loud, raspy voice ripped through the air.

"Hey! Get out of my yard!"

Jake slowly turned his head, expecting to see Old Man Wilson

standing over him, but it was an old woman.

"Mrs. Wilson?"

The old woman took a few hobbled steps forward, aided by a

large wooden cane. She was standing on the porch next to Old

Man Wilson, who still hadn't moved.

"You've got some nerve hopping that fence, boy."

Jake didn't know how to respond. "I... uh, I just wanted to get

my baseball back."

"Well, grab it and get off my lawn."

Jake picked the ball up and walked towards the front gate. He

took a close look at Old Man Wilson as he passed the porch.

"Is Mr. Wilson okay? He hasn't moved the entire day."

The old woman took her cane and poked Old Man Wilson in

the side.

"Who, him? He's been dead for months. I just stuffed him and

put him out here on the porch. Thought it would keep you, kids, off

my property."