Spooky Stories. - A Collection Of Horror Stories Written About Spooky Month.

A 1971 Diary. (Part 1)

REPORT LOG

11/17TH/2013.

A FOLLOW-UP OF THE CASE OF BOB VELSEB.

Shortly after the death of Bob Velseb (the cannibalistic serial killer who had caused more than approximately eight deaths, with a few more added ever since his recent rampage during Halloween), the police started an investigation, and ended up finding that he had apparently been using some old shack as his hide-out. When the police had gone into see if there was anything, they found photos of him and his family, along with broken mirrors and weapons. But most curiously of all was a diary dating back to 1971.

The diary appears to be written by Mr. Bob Velseb himself, at least from when he was younger and still attending high-school. Upon further inspection into the diary though, there was a particularly disturbing entry that caught the attention of those at the scene. So much so that they ended up bringing the diary back to the higher-ups.

The following is a transcript of the entry they found.

————

Dear diary.

10/31/71.

I don't really take kindly to those who hurt other people. Willingly, anyway. Especially when whoever they're hurtin' didn't do anything. There's people in the world who have value, and are really important. They're special, talented in their own ways. There's never been a doubt in my mind that taking the life of another person just ain't right.

..and yet, I've always been curious. I ain't sure why, but I always have been. When I was a youngin', I used to sometimes sneak down to the nearest drive-in, and sometimes, they'd be playin' horror movies. I'd sneak down to it with my buds just to see what would be playin'. And anytime they played a horror movie, I'd always see how others would react with such fear. Like they were the one being attacked. They'd gasp, and scream, and cover their eyes. While I'd always just watch without taking my eyes off the screen even once.

But—there was somethin' about it all that seemed so appealing. Something that made me wonder what it was like not to be the victim, but to be the attacker.

And.. I guess yesterday, that curiosity finally got the better of me.

It came to me while I was listenin' to my math teacher ramble about some lecture for an upcomin' exam. What would it be like to kill someone? And not just anyone. Someone in the school. Someone I knew. I couldn't just kill a stranger after all. They might actually be a really nice person, or might have some kind of value. I needed to find someone who wasn't of any value. Someone who already messed up a long time ago. Someone who nobody would care about. Somebody who just.. wouldn't be noticed by anyone if they suddenly vanished.

And even after the bell rang, the thought stayed in my mind. I couldn't believe I was actually thinking about it, but I was. If I was gonna kill anyone, who would it be? It couldn't be one of my buds. Couldn't be someone in my family. After all, I liked my family a lot, and I don't think I'd really like the idea of losing them.

I tried to think of anyone who I could picture bein' wiped out without a trace in my head.

There was that one really snobby popular girl named Jane. Black hair, always clinging to some boys arm every week, and pickin' on other girls for no reason. As annoying as she was, she'd definitely be noticed if she died. Even though she wasn't really that special to me or anyone else who didn't happen to be pals with her, people would definitely notice if she was gone.

There was that one guy named.. Mark. A jock who always acted like he was the toughest thing on earth. He hung out with Jane a lot. Tried to get into a fight with me once, but the teacher intervened. The thought of ridding of him once and for all sounded nice, but he had a lotta friends, and as far as I knew, the coach for the football team was actually his pop. So I couldn't kill him. I knew I'd be breakin' with sweat anytime I saw the couch, knowin' it was me who killed his kid.

And.. then there was that one girl. Mildred Brown. She was.. weird, to say the least. She was kinda quiet, and kept to herself. She had light blond hair that went all the way to her back. Green eyes. Pink lips, and pale skin. She was an average height, and always kinda had average looks—dressing in white button-ups with brown skirts and boots. Her bangs parted. She even had a slight cowlick too.

She always did pretty average in class too. At least, that was what I gathered anytime the teachers read our grades aloud in class. She'd always have grades between 86 or 89, the lowest usually bein' about 76. She basically had no friends. She hung out with nobody. Sometimes I'd talk to her, but she'd just.. look away. She wouldn't talk at all. Sometimes she'd mutter polite nothings. But that was it.

The more I thought about it, the less I became focused on anythin' at school. Would it really matter if she died? I mean.. barely anyone talked about her. All I really knew was that she apparently got with some guy named Alan last year, but they had a pretty bad falling out. That was kinda the only time anyone ever mentioned her though.

Out of curiosity, I asked one of my buds about her while we were in Gym. More specifically, I.. asked if he knew anything about her. He shrugged, and said he only knew a bit. Saying that he knew this one guy named Jake lived near her. Talked about how Jake had said Mildred only lived with her dad—had no other family. Her dad was apparently meaner than an angered bull, so it was tough for anyone to talk to him. Occasionally, he'd even hear shouting from the house.

I knew what it was. I'd been scolded by my parents plenty of times before. Spanked. Hit. It was normal. Even though it.. really felt like it wasn't. It even felt like they shouldn't have been doing that. But that was the way their parents taught them, and therefore, they thought it'd be best to teach me the same. So I never really said much about it.

Yet.. there was a part of me that almost wanted to do something about Mildreds dad, even though I didn't even know much about him. My pal said he only heard Jake say he heard shouting come from Mildreds house, and nothing else. But there was always the possibility of things gettin' physical. I knew my parents were like that with me all the time. I knew it was just punishment. If Mildred did somethin' wrong, she'd have to be hit in the same way.

..but.. I really didn't take too kindly to a lady bein' hit. After all, I was taught that girls shouldn't be hit or messed around with.

So, as I kept asking more about her, and as my pal playfully accused me of having a crush on her or something before tellin' me a little more, I decided I'd kill someone. Not her. But her dad.