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Draconic
09-22-2006, 01:28 PM
I would like to honor the greatest show on TV while growing (Are You Afraid of the Dark?) up by starting a game in it's memory.

Rules:
1.) Posts are to build on top of one another in order to collectively create one community scary story.
2.) Posts may be no shorter than one sentence, no longer than three.
3.) Comedy is allowed, but remember, we're aiming for a spooky story. And try to Keep it Old-School Nickelodeon-Safe.

Without further adieu...
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Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story,
The Tale of the Cookoo Clock.
Ben was a young boy, who had just turned 10. His mom, dad, and sister, were just getting moved into their new house in a smaller town up in northern Pennsylvania. Ben, being the adventurous kid that he was, had already explored every room in the creeky old house, except one...

Katie
09-22-2006, 02:02 PM
interesting game...I'll bite.


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...the attic. Ben's dad had warned him not to go up there because of loose boards and the maze of stuff up there that had been left behind when the previous owner passed away. Ben stood nervously at the top of the stairs trying to decide if he should go in.

Draconic
09-25-2006, 08:40 AM
nice setup! :-)
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His mind played with the idea of opening the door, like a child testing the water of a cold swimming pool. Before he even decided to go in, his fintertips were touching the cold, black cast-iron of the doorknob, whispers from nowhere flooded his mind, "Open the door, Ben, it's lonely on the other side." The door slowly and unnaturally creeked open, just as...
"Ben!"
...his dad called him from downstairs.

Katie
10-03-2006, 02:00 PM
:D


"ahhhh...busted." Ben muttered. Something caused that door to open...he wanted to see what it was. He turend and trudged down the stairs but stopped as a chill passed through his body.

"Don't leave....I'm so lonely" a hollow voice echoed inside his head.

MadPirateBunny
01-11-2007, 01:14 AM
"BEN!"
His father's voice called again with rising irritation. Ben glanced down the stairs but only briefly. The hackles on the back of his neck urged him to heed his father's words and leave the eerie call.

But no one ever said a boy of his age could resist the unknown. The bravado of youth and all that.

He turned back towards the still closed door. “Who … who's there?”