Chilling tales for the restless night

Ashes of oakridge

In the small, sleepy town of Oakridge, things were usually quiet, predictable. Everyone knew each other, and nothing ever really happened. That was until the summer of 1972, when a new neighbor moved into the big house down the road. The house had always been a bit of an eyesore—dark and looming at the edge of town. But for years, it had remained empty, almost forgotten.

When the new owner moved in, he did so in complete secrecy. No one ever saw him, not even when he first arrived. No trucks came to unload furniture, no signs of activity during the day. The only indication that someone lived there were the lights that flickered on at night, glowing eerily from behind the heavy curtains.

Twelve-year-old Lewis was the first to notice something was off. He spent most of his time riding his bike around town, and the old house quickly caught his attention. He couldn't help but feel drawn to it, though it gave him chills every time he rode past.

"How come nobody's ever seen him?" Lewis wondered aloud one day to his two best friends, Bob and Tommy. They were sitting on the curb outside his house, tossing a ball between them.

Bob shrugged. "Maybe he's just antisocial. Some people are like that."

"No way," Lewis said firmly, shaking his head. "There's something wrong with that guy. Why's he only ever awake at night?"

Tommy, the youngest of the group, looked a bit nervous. "You don't think... it's haunted, do you?"

Lewis glanced back at the house in the distance, its roof barely visible over the treetops. "I don't know what it is. But it's weird. Real weird."

For months, the boys kept a close eye on the house, but the mysterious owner never showed himself. But as time went on, something even stranger started happening in town. Adults began falling ill. At first, it was just a few people, but soon it spread. Those who got sick became unnaturally pale, like all the color had drained from their skin. They'd avoid going outside during the day, complaining that the sunlight made them feel worse. But at night, they seemed to perk up, roaming the town in the dark.

It wasn't long before people began dying. It wasn't from any normal sickness; it was sudden, almost as if life itself had been drained from them. And as more adults died, the children of Oakridge found themselves orphaned, their parents falling victim one by one to this strange, unseen force.

Lewis, ever the curious and brave one, decided he couldn't sit back and do nothing. He went to the local police station to tell them about his suspicions, but the officers laughed him off. Even his parents told him to stop worrying, that it was just the flu or something like that. But Lewis couldn't shake the feeling that this was something much worse.

Desperate for help, Lewis found himself at the doorstep of the town's only priest, Father O'Leary. The townspeople called him crazy, a relic of a time long gone, and he often rambled on about demons and evil forces. But Lewis didn't know where else to turn.

Father O'Leary listened carefully as Lewis explained everything—the new neighbor, the strange sickness, the lights that never turned off. When he finished, the priest looked at him with wide, serious eyes.

"My boy," Father O'Leary whispered, leaning in close, "what you're describing... it's not sickness. It's a dark entity, a vampire."

Lewis frowned. "A what?"

The priest sighed, standing up to grab an old, worn book from his shelf. "A creature that feeds on the blood of the living, turning them into its slaves. They can't stand the sun, and they lure people in with their power. It's an ancient evil."

Lewis felt his stomach turn. It sounded like something out of a horror movie. "But what can I do? I'm just a kid."

Father O'Leary handed him a small vial of holy water and a silver cross. "You must be brave, Lewis. The vampire's hold on this town is strong. Half the adults and some of the children have already turned. You must fight them. Use this water and this cross, and recite this scripture when you face one. It's your only hope."