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    Bad Things
    Bad Things
    Bad Things
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    Bad Things

    By Willow Cross

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    About this ebook

    Creepy crawlies, dark shadows, hideous monsters secreted under your bed... Bad Things is a collection of paranormal stories that will make your skin crawl and heart race. Do you sleep with the light on? Maybe you should...

    They come at night
    When the moon grows dark
    To steal your treasures
    And weaken your heart

    An empty bed
    Is all that remains
    If the Bad Things decide
    To visit again

    Mommies take care
    Watch your young as they slumber
    For babies and children
    The Bad Things do hunger

    Check closets and attics
    And under all beds
    If the Bad Things come calling
    You’ll wish you were dead.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWillow Cross
    Release dateDec 18, 2014
    ISBN9781311632074
    Bad Things
    Author

    Willow Cross

    Willow Cross is a multi-genre author who resides in Indiana. She also moonlights as a radio talk show host for The World of Ink Network’s The Paranormal Hour. A self-proclaimed vamp enthusiast, were-hunter, prankster, dreamer, story teller, benevolent dictator of minions, and chocolate lover, she spends her free time with family and friends, as well as participating in paranormal investigations.Her home has been known to host the occasional ghost and several of her friends profess to be witches. Although she dearly loves Vampires and Werewolves, they are never invited for dinner.

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      Book preview

      Bad Things - Willow Cross

      Bad Things

      A Paranormal Collection

      By

      Willow Cross

      Copyright 2014 Willow Cross

      Smashwords Edition

      License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      These stories are works of fiction. Any and all similarities to people, places, or businesses are purely coincidental.

      Dedication

      For my cousin Kris who never seems to tire of hearing my stories. Especially the scary sort. I hope these are up to par.

      Contents

      13 Graves

      Room For One More

      Cursed

      The Monster In My Room

      Bad Things

      Epilogue

      Author Bio

      Other Books by Willow Cross

      13 Graves

      Chapter One

      It’s been almost fifteen years since the terror-filled night that nearly ended my life. Looking back now, I honestly can’t remember whose idea it was to visit 13 Graves. Might have been Matt or Mike. Both of those jerks had more brawn than brains, and both loved to scare the crap out of people. I don’t even know why I hung out with them.

      Whomever the idea belonged to hardly matters anymore. Regardless, it was the worst possible thing we could have done that Friday night. A Friday the thirteenth is not in any way, shape, or form, a good night to go to a haunted graveyard. Especially for a group of impressionable teenagers.

      The entire nightmare started so innocently. There were seven of us originally. We’d been hanging out in the basement game room of my home, just having a few laughs, and bored out of our minds. When the conversation began to lull, David started telling ghost stories.

      After the third not-so-scary, ridiculously unbelievable story, Mike said, Aw come on, Dave. We’ve had enough of your bullshit stories. Let’s do something.

      Fine. But I saved the scariest one for last and this one is completely true. Dave answered.

      Matt laughed as he tossed a pillow at Dave’s head. Lamer. Dude, seriously, quit flapping your jaws and call your big brother. Tell him there’s a twenty in it for him if he scores us some beer.

      Dave shook his head. No way. After you got that minor in possession charge, he said he’s done. He won’t get us nothing.

      That’s bullshit. Matt answered. It’s not like I snitched.

      No, but you could have. Daniel isn’t taking a chance someone will. Dave replied.

      Both Matt and Mike sullenly remained silent.

      Scott, who had been trying to get me to go out with him for weeks, stretched and dropped his arm nonchalantly around my shoulders. I pretended not to notice, and trying to cut the thick-as-fog tension in the room, I said, Go ahead, Dave. Tell another one.

      He leaned back against the sofa, threw his right leg up over his left, and sighed. Two words. Albert Gunther, two of the scariest words you’ll ever hear.

      Ha! Matt scoffed.

      Leaning forward once again and placing his elbows on his knees, Dave’s face grew serious. This isn’t a story. This is real shit. Albert Gunther is the only serial killer we’ve ever had in this county. Everyone who lived here was terrified of him. Even my gramps and he ain’t scared of nothing.

      Karen, the quiet one of our bunch, wrapped her arms around her chest as if hugging herself. Don’t talk about him, Dave. Talking about stuff like that brings on bad things, she said softly.

      I’ve never even heard of him, Mike said.

      Me either, Matt agreed. Must not have been very good at being a serial killer if we’ve never even heard of him.

      Dave’s eyes narrowed as his pale complexion infused with tinges of pink. You didn’t grow up here. People won’t talk about it with outsiders, and you guys are both outsiders.

      Matt rolled his eyes. Whatever.

      A feeling of dread settled over me. I knew bits and pieces of the story from my older sister, but I’d never heard the entire thing. No one ever talked about what happened in the old woods. And if you questioned anyone who should know about what went on back then, you were met with steely eyes and angry expressions. Maybe Karen’s right. Maybe we should just do something else. Anyone want to play a game?

      I’m game, Scott answered. Pulling his arm tighter, he forced me into his chest as he continued, I know a good one.

      Matt started chanting and before he said the second word, Mike joined him. Scott and Candy sitting in a tree--

      Matt’s head abruptly snapped back as the pillow which had, seconds before, been lying beside Scott’s foot hit him square in the face.

      Dude! Damn! Matt protested.

      What are you guys...two? Scott replied.

      Both Matt and Mike burst into fits of laughter.

      What’s a matter, Scotty Poo? I think she already knows you like her, Matt jeered.

      Scott shot off the couch with his fists clenched at his sides. What’s your deal?

      Face pinched and red, Matt stood to face him.

      Okay, okay, I said, reaching up to grab Scott’s hand. Girls, you’re both pretty, now quit your bitching.

      Sighing, Scott sat back down beside me and once again, wrapped his well-muscled arm around my shoulders saying, Watch it, Matt.

      In silent response, Matt jerked his chin up, but remained standing.

      I want to hear the story, Sheila interrupted. I’ve never heard of him either.

      I guess I do too, I said, hoping the story would get the boy’s minds headed in another direction.

      All eyes centered on Matt. Finally, he shrugged, and rolling his eyes, returned to his seat with another, Whatever.

      Dave paused a moment to look around the room. Everyone except Karen gave him a nod of approval. Get comfy, kids. This is going to be a bumpy ride.

      Matt rolled his eyes again, but remained

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