Welcome to the ongoing collection of my original horror stories, where the nightmarish and the supernatural collide. Dive into a realm of fear and fascination with my spooky tales that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Whether you're a fan of...
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When I came home from work on Friday, I did what I always do. I grabbed some snacks and then plopped down infront of my laptop to write a new scary story to share on Reddit. Writing was my hobby and my passion. I was especially intrigued by vampires, werewolves, and other monsters. Creating these stories kept me sane while I worked eight hours a day as a garbage man.
So, when I found out three days later that a scammy YouTuber had stolen my work, presenting it with a low-quality voiceover on his channel, I lost it. The guy who went by the name "Scary Eddie" made thousands of dollars every month with other people's work. All the while, I had to work myself to death out there. It wasn't fair.
I devised a plan to take revenge. First, I sent the guy an email, introducing myself as a sponsor interested in advertising on his channel. That's how I got his real name and phone number. Finding out where he lived was easy after that. Unfortunately for Edward Johnson, aka Scary Eddie, he was renting an apartment in Chicago. Same as me.
That's when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I called my uncle Sven. Sven's first name might sound like he's a part-time worker at IKEA, but he's the real deal. Uncle Sven is an old-school Viking. Blood for blood, eye for an eye, all of that. And he loved to fight. Since there were no battlefields around anymore on US ground where he could wield an axe berserker-style, he had joined the army when he was just eighteen. He had worked his way up in record time. These days, Sven worked as an independent contractor for the CIA, doing god-knows-what all over the world. Our family didn't ask; he didn't tell. That was the deal.
I met with Sven in a pub downtown. At first, he wasn't interested. He told me to let it go and not waste his time with my nonsense. But it all changed when we left later that night. We were both pretty wasted. While we were waiting for our Uber, I looked up and saw that the moon was almost full. I pointed it out to Sven and explained that this was the best time to write a new werewolf story. Uncle Sven looked at me with a puzzled expression, then he threw his head back and started laughing manically. He even let out a wolf's howl.
When I asked him about his strange outburst, he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and told me he had reconsidered. Tomorrow we would pay a visit to Scary Eddie to give him a good scare. I was happy Sven finally took me seriously, but I was also a bit nervous.
The next evening, Sven picked me up at home. He had two of his military buddies with him, both Norwegian guys. I asked why he needed extra muscle to scold a dopey YouTuber, but Sven just laughed and explained that Gunnar and Felix were with us to make sure he wouldn't go too far. I believed him. At the end of the day, he was a paid killer for the government. I wanted to tell Eddie to leave my stories alone; I didn't want Sven to deploy advanced interrogation tactics, as the CIA called it. It might be smart to have some level-headed guys with us.
Then the mayhem started. Eddie wasn't amused to see some shady-looking strangers at his door, and Sven didn't hesitate. He punched the little guy out. Gunnar and Felix put a black hood over his head and dragged the unconscious man to the car. I lost it. I screamed at Sven, asking him what he was doing and demanding he stop. He calmly told me to shut up and pay attention. The look in his eyes was unsettling at best, and I didn't dare to speak up anymore.
We drove for hours until we reached a remote park with big trees and thick bushes. No one was around but us. Sven's friends dragged Eddie through the undergrowth. The terrified YouTuber was awake and begging for mercy. He pleaded with me to let him go, but Sven told him that thieves had to pay. The fullmoon smiled down on us in an almost mocking manner.
We reached a small clearing where a woman I didn't know was keeping a bonfire going. She was dressed in robes engraved with ancient Nordic runes. I understood that Sven had prepared this place. Horrified, I asked him what we were doing here,but my uncle just explained that tonight we would honor the old laws.
Gunnar, Felix, and Sven brought out antlers and animal bones. They put on war-paint while humming an old Norse battle hymn. All the while, Eddie was kneeling in the dirt, crying and begging. Then I understood. I was nerd enough to know about our ancestors and about Viking rituals. My uncle and his friends were preparing a sacrifice.
I tried to get Eddie to his feet so we could run away, but Sven knocked me down. He looked at me sternly and commanded me to honor our gods. This was Hel's night, and she would get her tribute. The strange woman was clearly a priestess of the old ways. She chanted sinister rhymes and danced around the fire. When midnight was upon us, I lost my mind.
All of a sudden, the fire exploded with sparks, and a horrific voice came out of the flames. It asked for the sacrifice it was owed. Sven, Gunnar, Felix, and the priestess bowed their heads. Sven pointed to Eddie and told Hel that this unworthy thief was hers to take. I thought I was in a nightmare. But it was all too real.
Roots shot out from the ground and wrapped around Eddie's torso, neck, and arms. The poor man struggled, but he couldn't get away. Slowly, he was dragged into the ground. My uncle and his friends had started chanting again. Then Eddie was gone. All that was left was a black circle in the earth. Iwanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to run away. But all I could do was sit in the wet grass and stare in horror into the flames.
I must have passed out because I woke up in my own bed the next day. Sven was in my apartment, making me tea. When I felt strong enough to get up, he sat me down and explained that he was part of a community praying to the Norse gods. And that they were real. He offered to introduce me to the priestess, but I told him to stay away from me. He nodded and told me I could come to him when I was ready.
Ever since that horrific night, I have disturbing visions. Me as a wolf, running through a dark forest, hunting my prey. Me as a berserk warrior cutting through the ranks of my enemies. Me as a raven, laying curses on evildoers and cowards. I understand that the north is in my blood. I can hear Odin calling my name. But I'm human, and I have free will. So I choose the life of a pacifist. And why wouldn't I? After that day, not one YouTuber dared to steal one of my stories ever again.
