Real Horror Stories

In The Land Of Black And White

"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.

But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean."

I know of an anecdote, one about a little girl named Madeline. Little Maddie was seven years old, with dark chestnut hair and wide blue eyes. Everyone thought she would grow up to become such a pretty woman, and a smart one at that. Maddie loved to read books, all kinds of books; fairy tales and history, fantasy and mystery. Her parents were so proud of her for being so smart and pretty and brave, they knew she was special. But they were also scared. You see, little Maddie was sick... very sick. She rarely left her bed. But she had her books, and the love of her parents to keep her company. She was brave for both herself and them. Of course, Maddie didn't know any better.

One day, on a sunny afternoon in December (Not a dark stormy night in Autumn), just a few days after Christmas, Maddie's parents came into her room, full of books and the left over wrapping paper, all crinkled and sparkling in the sunlight that leaked through her window. They said that they'd have to leave her alone for a while. Not long, just an hour. Just enough time to meet with the doctor. They said that they would be right back and that if there was any trouble, to call them with the phone that was kept on the nightstand, the one next to her bed, the red one. Maddie wasn't scared, and she knew it wasn't a good idea to move around too much. She was just too brave. Her father kissed her on the forehead, her mother on the cheek. Maddie smiled, and asked if they could open her window. It was an especially warm day with a clear blue sky. Some fresh air could be good. Maddie's father smiled back, as he opened the window.

"Anything else?" Her parents asked before they left.

"No I'll be alright," She said to them. "I'll just read a story for a while."

And then Maddie was alone. All by herself in that great big house, no sound at all except for the beeps of the machine, the one that kept check on Maddie's heart. She tried to read her book, but the sunlight that fell on her face made her sleepy. Maddie closed her eyes, for how long she didn't know. Not long enough to dream, but long enough to loose time. To her it was just a blink and nothing more. But she didn't open her eyes willingly. The squawk of crow, a black crow, forced her from the peace of sleep. Well, it wasn't just a crow. Maddie also felt warm, too warm for December in even the best of times. When she woke up, she saw that a crow had perched itself on her windowsill. She also saw something else, something that made her shriek.

The chair that was kept in Maddie's room, the chair that her mother would sit in just before bedtime, the chair that should have been empty, had been filled by a stranger. Too Maddie, it looked like a person, but also not like a person at all. It had a face, with eyes and a mouth and a nose and all, and it had arms and legs, just like a man's. It was even wearing a suit, a black suit with a white shirt and a purple tie. But this stranger, this man if you will, looked wrong to Maddie. His face had all the right parts, but they were mutilated in ways almost incomprehensible. Shiny and pink in some places, black and crackled in others. He had no lips, and his nose was made of two small holes that flared in and out as he breathed. His eyes were yellow and sunken, never blinking, not even once. His body, while never falling to ash, had small flames dancing up and down the lengths of his arms and face, flickering hot light. His cloths were covered in the stains of blood. He looked much like a burn victim would, before the fires were put out. The machine, the one that kept watch over Maddie's heart, began to beep quickly and loudly. Maddie forgot how to be brave.

"Don't be scarred Madeline," Said the dark man, his words sounding like nails against glass, more of a rasp than a voice. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who are you?" Asked Maddie, feeling a bit less frightened.

"My name is Lazarus, and I'm a bad man for all the right reasons." He said back to her. Smoke was rising softly from the fires. He seemed to be in pain, but doing his best to ignore it, somewhat stoically.