Getting close to Halloween, got any urban legend stories?

Here's a legend for you

That's true though. My friend has a cousin who is a Seal team 6 Delta Ranger and knows the girls best friend.

Maybe someone can locate that massive urban legend post from about 5 years back.

This one?

Theres a sea monster in San Francisco bay

There’s a legend surrounding this site actually. If the time stamp on your post is more than a minute behind the actual time, you will die in as many months.

There is a ritual to break the hex but if you don’t already know where to find it you’re already SOL. Test it and see.

My childhood home was less than a mile from the serial killer known as The Candy Man. I wasnt old enough to remember any good details though.

Also in my hometown was the Toddville Murder Mansion. We broke into that one only once as teenagers. You could feel the bad juju in the building the place the second you got on the property. Never felt like going back after the first time

My old neighborhood was in front of an old arse graveyard and with the neighborhood being so small and all the kids being roughly the same age stories were bound to be made.

The one I remember the most was from a couple of slightly older kids. Basically on certain nights after midnight you could hear knocking coming from the graveyard. Apparently it was an old woman who was murdered by teenagers back in the 50s. If you were caught out alone and heard three knocks her ghost would take you away leaving your corpse behind and your mouth stitched up.

quote:

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urban legend

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There was once a boy named Daniel who hated clowns. Ever since he was little, he couldn’t stand the sight of them, to be around them, to hear their stupid laughs.

Their ridiculous makeup, with the false, painted on smiles that hid rictus grins. The curls of their multicolored Afros, hiding gross bald heads with liver spots. Because no one cool would ever be a clown. It was always gross old men or nasty women, social outcasts who foolishly cling to a dying form of pathetic theater that hadn’t been relevant in almost a century.

There were no more circuses, and the party clowns who twisted their idiotic squeaky balloons into mockeries of animals at lame bar mitzvahs and children’s parties were all that remained of their stupid kind. And this made Daniel glad. Yes, he despised clowns, not because they made him afraid, but only angry.

He’d fantasize about stomping on their oversized shoes and kicking them square in the crotch of their colorful pantaloons. But what Daniel hated most about clowns, was their nose. That ridiculous red rubber round thing they’d stick on. It was just so punchable. The thought of one made him want to run up and rip it off.

But circuses were a thing of the past, thankfully. People no longer cared about enslaved animals and the flying trapeze when they could watch things far more wondrous on YouTube. And good riddance, Daniel thought.


So what a surprise he had when one day he saw a flyer about the circus coming to town taped to a telephone pole. He saw the caravan coming in, long lines of box trucks and trailers with tent poles and fabrics. They began unloading, the name “Silas Bros.” stenciled on the side of the trucks and wagons. Men began to pull out tent poles and hammering them in the ground, 4 sledgehammers swinging in a rhythm. Ting ting ting ting. Ting ting ting ting.

Giant canvases rolled out, men shouting, the clamor of a work site. And then the performers began to emerge from their trailers. A tall, thin man. An enormously rotund midget. A bearded lady.

This was right out of a black and white movie. A blast from the past. He snuck surreptitiously between the trailers, avoiding the eyes of the workmen. He was about to turn a corner when he heard a bunch of footsteps padding out of one of the caravans. He quickly dove under the wheels and hid in the shadow as they passed by, laughing, the smell of liquor wafting with them. When they had passed, he emerged, and turned around to see that hideous, stupid makeup masked grin of a clown.

It was painted on the side of the trailer. Big blue letters said BOPPO THE AMAZING!
Red and blue hair erupting from its head. And right in the middle was that big stupid nose, crimson and unnerving. He crept around the side of the trailer, and saw the door was slightly ajar. It hadn’t latched. He looked left, then right, and saw the coast was clear. He ducked into the empty trailer.

There were clown outfits hanging up everywhere. Makeup vanities with little lights and all the tools of their horrible trade. And there on a rickety wooden chair sat an old leather doctors bag, just tempting him to look inside. He undid the latch, and peered at the contents. Two oversized shoes, yellowed with age. That ugly wig of crimson and blue. And there in the middle, like a bright strawberry, was that bulbous red nose.

He heard voices laughing, making their way back to the trailer. In a moment he knew what trick to play. He stuck his hand in the bag and wrapped his mischievous fingers around the nose, crushing it as he pulled it out, then rushed out the door. Running as fast as his legs would carry him, dodging workers and vaulting over building materials as he fled the site, his heart pounding hummingbird fast. “Got your nose,” he thought as he made it past the old church and back on the road that let away from that awful circus and towards his neighborhood. “Let’s see how they have a circus without their clown.”

He ate dinner in his room that night. Sitting on his bed, he reached in his pocket and pulled out the now ruined red rubber nose. He stared at it, angrily. He walked downstairs to the kitchen turned on the garbage disposal. The rough whirring, grinding noise was a cacophony. He held his clenched fist over the roaring hole of jagged teeth and opened his palm. The red nose dropped and in an instant it was mutilated into a thousand pieces. He turned the disposal off and said “good riddance.”

He returned to his room and watched videos until he drifted off to sleep. But it wasn’t a peaceful rest. The horrible, punchable face of Boppo danced in his head. Laughing, grinning that awful grin. The laughter was ringing in his head as his eyes shot open, waking in a cold sweat. The sound of the grandfather clock chimed three, booming thrice, and then fell silent. He closed his eyes again but he could hear a faint sound. He couldn’t quite place it, nearly imperceptible as it was. Discordant, but melodic at the same time. Then it hit him...calliope music, like an old organ grinder would play.

And then, fainter still, laughing.
He got out of bed and slowly walked to the window. From the second story vantage point he could see the street, empty and bathed in moonlight.

Empty except for a single solitary figure standing still under the yellow glow of the streetlight. It took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing.

Yellow shoes too large for any man’s foot. A billowy green outfit with purple polka dots.
Blue and red hair sticking out at odd angles from a ghostly white face.
A grin of broken teeth, softly laughing, as one hand waved at him. The eyes of the figure stared at him. And where that stupid red ball should have been at the center of that awful face was nothing but a gaping hole.

Slowly the figure raised his other hand, a closed fist, turned it upwards, and opened it. There was a small pink and red object in it. It almost looked like a...
Just then Daniel began to hear a thick, heavy, drip drip drip. He glanced down to see a dark pool on the carpet. Reaching up with his hand, he touched his face, right at the center, and felt a warm, sticky wetness.
His eyes widened in horror as he realized what the figure held, and then, the figure spoke with a blood curdling voice....




GOT YOUR NOSE!