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As usual; I was exhausted after yet another long day at work at an unimportant job in an unimportant place. I have a big social circle of friends and family. Christmas holidays were coming up. Had lots of traveling and festivity related preparations that had to be done by morning. Of course I had to do them all at the last minute because that’s what the cool kids do. Which meant I didn’t get home until very late.

You may laugh when you see a title like Night-Time-Vamps, you may just pass it over entirely, but that would be a tragedy, because you'd miss the warning about the Night-Time-Vamps. It was in Early summer me and my friends; Abby Carter, P. Skillet, and Tawanda Jones all went out to a camp site in a nearby national forest, to drink hooch and smoke pseudo legal recreational Marihuana.

I never believed in urban legends, not at all. Until I saw him. This is a very generic way to start, but it started one evening when I was walking home from working; the streets were empty, but then I saw the man in the distance of the streets at an outdoor market. There was a small man hunched over with a massive, overstuffed pack with various masks on it. That grin, that GRIN... it was the first thing that caught me; it stretched past his cheeks and just stayed there.

My eyelids shut themselves open with the subtlety of an old garage door. My first sight this instant is the ceiling, bleached of its colors by the darkness. I escaped dreamland as my mind was alerted by a rapid shift in temperature. My feet are icy. Which… can’t make sense… because… uh… Thinking hurts when you’ve just woke up. My neck, hurt from my marble pillow, swivels to the right to orient my head to the alarm clock, at just the right angle for my tired eyes to calibrate. 2:34 AM.

“Pretty Penny: The American Slit-Mouth Woman” Ohio can be a frightening place, with scary legends jumping out from around nearly every dark rural corner. Some though remain extremely obscure, and deserve perhaps a second look. In a true case of east meets west I give you Pretty Penny, America’s own Slit Mouth Woman.

"The best memories are made with friends." — Field journal, undated. 1985. — That morning began with brushing. I stepped into the hall and found Sam frozen mid-step, toothbrush in hand, eyes fixed on the bathroom. I followed his gaze. Ray stood at the sink, back to us, scrubbing his teeth in slow, mechanical strokes...up, down, up, down, as if he'd been at it for hours. Sam turned to me, brow knotted. "I just saw him outside," Sam whispered. "What?"

Once upon a time. long ago. A kingdom of beauty and sirens were told. The royals were all fair, but a plague drew near. The people begged and screamed for the royals did not make a beep. Unknown to the people. The fairest daughter fell ill. The King journeyed far and away. A little doll was gifted to the fair daughter. She loved it so, the doll was odd to others, for it did not match the princess. The princess had hair of ocean blue. She wore dresses of vibrant hues. The doll, however; was…

I am not going to talk about myself much and will just go straight into my story. I will keep my name brief; my name is Dennis, and I am nothing special. Now, with that out of the way, I will get to my story.

Hi there, I'm Gabriel. Today, I discovered something strange. I was chilling in my bedroom, only when I heard a sound. I followed where it came from, but it turned out to be my basement. Yeah, the basement. That room where it always had that stuff, VHS Tapes.

Eli fell to the ground and the mud shot into the air and rained back down upon him. A thin layer of this brown liquid covered him from head to toe. He hoped and prayed this masquerade would help him escape. He lifted his head from the puddle and tried to slow down his labored breaths. The guards that were chasing him were nowhere to be found and he didn't hear any talking or crunching of twigs under someones feet. Was he really free? Was this it? The moon hung high in the sky and once he felt…

I was walking down an abandoned, dirt road in the middle of a small town that I did not recognise. I was alone; literally, there was no one in sight. I looked at the house I was walking by, the only house on the street. It was old and the dark grey paint was faded into more of an off white colour. The windows were covered in dust and chipped at the edges, behind them were some ripped, faded yellow curtains hanging. Only one of the windows was missing a curtain, the top left window to be exact.…

Death comes for us all. The intricate design of Death's web spares no one. It is the inevitable reality we all face someday, some sooner than others. But not all of us are unwary of our demise. Not all of us are fortunate enough to live in blissful ignorance, unaware of our own mortality. But once you are caught in the web, like a hapless fly watching as a spider descends upon it, you will see how finite life is. For as easy as life is granted, it can just as easily be taken away.

An average Saturday, the clear skies of the day fade into the abyss that is night. On many occasions this wouldn't be a problem at all, but tonight, you feel scared. Frantically looking in car windows as you walk for something you know isn't there, any sound cursed at your ear. You want to go home. As you walk down the sidewalk on the way to your house, the creepy vibe you feel grows, as does your fear. You look to a parking lot to see what looks like chalk, but only one word. It reads…

Jack’s head shot up off the pillow and his eyes stared meaninglessly into the infinite darkness, temporarily forgetting where he was. His heart beat fast and he was gasping for air as if he had just finished a marathon. The inexplicable exhaustion overwhelmed him even though he just woke up from a feelingly long sleep.

The following is an account of events that took place in the late summer of 2001. I can neither confirm nor deny its validity. It was recounted to me by my Brother-in-law, who disappeared in the summer of 2008.

I woke up again last night after hearing the same haunting noise that has plagued me since my early childhood. This time however, is the first time I have heard it during my adult life. When I was younger, I called the noise “sideways static”, but now I don’t give it a name, as I am trying to forget that it exists.

Sitting in the back seat of a station wagon, two sisters, ages 6 and 8 start bickering. One won't scoot over, the other is making annoying sounds. Typical car ride for this family. The parents up front try ignoring the children, but soon enough it gets to be too intolerable. "Girls, be quiet and look out your windows." Snapped their mom.

A boy named John Smith who was very fond of scary emails and pop-ups. Every day, he would find new ones and post them to everyone he knew. He even started making some himself and sending them to strangers. He loved to scare people on the Net.

The whistle is considered one of the happiest sounds on earth by many. I'm not one of those people. I hate the sound of whistling. Another thing I hate is the tune of "Oh, Susanna." I can't bare to hear the two combined. Not after that night.

I know you're not going to believe me, but I've decided that I don't care at this point. I need to get this out. Whether you believe me or not, this has to get out.