re: Need to Kill Time: What's a story that you've heard that still gives you chills

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It's by far the best story in here IMHO

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it's maybe the best story in the last 4 pages.

There are far, FAR better stories in this thread than the chicago one. Which honestly I thought was a little subpar.

Here is the link to the orange story. half way through it and it is pretty freaky.
ORANGE

bump...this thread delivers...

I just finished reading Rose Holding an Orange while on my lunch break. It started rather slow, didn't really get into it until the girlfriend came on board, but the ending just pissed all over the rest of the story. I don't feel like the creep had been built up enough to end it like that.

Milos realized he was building a following on reddit and decided to cash in by only telling the rest of the story in his now published book.

Anyone willing to pay the $3 for the kindle edition in order to find out what the frick happened?

Buy the Book Here

When I was 5 years old, my family moved to Baton Rouge from Nashville, Tennessee. We weren't originaly from Nashville. My family is from Iowa and I was actually born in Minnesota. Anyway, because of my father's job we ended up in Baton Rouge, LA during the summer of 1978.

Being a yankee, I remember thinking how freaking hot Louisiana was. It wasn't just the heat, it was the way it stuck to you. There was no relief, no breeze, and the wetness just clung to your skin and clothes.

My first day in our new world, my mother quickly kicked me outside. No doubt so she could unpack without me under her feet. So, I wondered around and soon found an ant pile. Now, in Tennessee, ant piles were fun. You could smash the ant hills watch the little black critters run around. You could make ramps for the ants, mess with them, whatever...they were natures toys for a 5 year old. However, in Baton Rouge, the ants were red...and mean as hell. After about 30 seconds I realized I needed to find something else to do because my hand stung from about 50 ant bites. That's when I noticed the woods located immediately behind the parking lot of the apartment complex.

I wandered a few feet in and noticed a large ditch. It wasn't a bayou or a hill bottom. First, there aren't any hills in Baton Rouge. There wasn't any water to distinguish it as a "slow moving stream". Just a deep empty drainage ditch of some sort in the wooded area behind the apartments. I quickly realized that the ditch was great. It was 10 degrees cooler than the swampy humid sun filled air surrounding the grassy area just outside the apartment front door.

There were little trails between the hard woord trees, roots sticking out from the ditch that you could climb up, and other forms of entertainment like sticks, damp dirt and bugs. A perfectly entertaining area for wandering bored child. I decided to share my new found secret with my older sister.

Soon, my sister and I were wandering deeper into the woods. More brave having found a buddy, we walked about 50 yards or so through woods to edge on the other side. As we peaked out, we were on the back side of a neighborhood. We were facing the back yard of a couple homes. We could see a light trail from the woods which we standing to an area between two of the houses we were facing and out towards the road. Apparently, our path was a common one for some person or people. But, we thought nothing of it. To the right of where we peaked out, there was a chain linked area with three dogs. They heard us crashing through the woods and greated us with load barking and plenty of jumping against the fence.

Just as we were going to turn around and head back the way we came, the sliding door to the back of the house began to open and a shirtless man in his early 50s appeared. I remember how white the guys chest was compared to his arms and face. Not a pleasant looking fella, either. "GOD DAMNIT", he yelled. "I told you fricking kids to stop coming through my back yard!" He turned to his left and began walking toward a small gated area which contained the three dogs.

Now, I was young, but I wasn't stupid. I'd seen that look on a man's face before. Once, back in Tennessee, I threw a dirt clod which happened to land in the bed of a El Camino that was driving down my street. I wasn't trying to hit the El Camino, I was trying to throw a dirt clod accross the road. But, he didn't know that. Luckily for me, I was fast enough that I made it home before he could get out of his car and get hold of me. Well, a few months later and I'm seeing this same look again. The young 5 year old instincts kicked in and I grabbed my older sister by the arm and yelled, "Run!"

It took her a second to give in to my tugging, but she soon realized what was about to happen. My older sister wasn't quite as fleet of foot as her little brother. So, as we made it a few feet into the woods, she was already a falling behind me. And that's about when I heard the man again. He yelled, "SIC EM! SIC EM BOYS!"

You could hear the barking of the dogs and jingling of their tags as they raced out of their pen. I could hear my feet pounding the dirt and the crunching leaves and snapping twigs as I made my way through the maze of trees. I could feel my heart pounding feverishly against my chest. I could hear my sisters accelerated breathing behind me above the buzz of the insects and the barking and snarling of the approaching dogs. I ran like I never remember running before. I could see every dodge, weave, and jump I needed to make and I made them precisely. Everything was a blurr but yet my path was in perfect focus. My feet felt incredibly light. My legs moved faster than I willed them to. Almost like I could float over the terrain. I felt no pain in my lungs from them deep fast breaths I was taking. I ran like prey and I ran like hell.

I reached the ditch first and I did not slow down. I tried to leap accross but it was just too wide. As I landed short of my goal by about 3 feet, I immediately looked for the roots I had used before to climb out. My hands and feet worked in perfect syncronism as I scurried up the side of the ditch wall. As I was about to run to the parking lot I heard my sister breaking through the woods behind me. She was yelling my name and I could hear the fear trembling in her voice. The dogs were closing in on her and she had never climbed out the ditch before. So, I turned back just in time to see he jump from the opposite bank. She landed quite awkawardly. Her face drove into the opposite bank and she fell back on her butt. I then saw the dogs stop at the opposite side, snarling and barking at her. I reach down while holding onto a small tree where I needed her to climb out and yelled to her to, "CLIMB!!"

It's almost like the dogs realized there victim was about to get away and decided to act. They jumped in behind her one at a time as she climbed toward my hand. I grabbed hold of her as soon as I could and yanked her with a force I didn't think was possible. She landed beside me and I landed on my chest looking down towards the ditch. One of the dogs jumped up towards me and snapped at my face. Just missing me by inches. I could smell its canine breath odor and felt its saliva splash against my face as the dogs colapsing jaws sent the spittle flying outwards.

Needless to say, I didn't wait to see how well the dogs could climb. My sister was on her feet first and we both ran as fast as we could to the safety of our apartment. In the distance we could hear the man laughing. Laughing and coughing. "HAAAAAA...HA HA HA HA AH..hack hack hack..HAAAA HAAAA HAAAA, cough hack hack!!!. SIC EM BOYS!!!!"

We made it and we made it unscathed. To this day I have no idea who that douchebag was and what would have happened to me or my sister if those dogs would have caught us. I don't know how we outran 3 dogs 50 yards through the woods. But, we did. I have never since felt the earth move that quickly beneath my feet.

In the year following, I found a path which avoided his back yard and exited the woods near a street which led to the rest of the neighborhood behind. Even when on the neighborhood streets, I avoided that house like the plague. We moved to another part Baton Rouge later that following year and I never entered those woods again. But, I'll never forget that stretch of woods behind that apartment complex off Old Hammond Hwy and the ditch that may have saved my arse.

A few months ago I pulled up to the house with my kids. I noticed a guy walking by in the street, but thought nothing of it. I was getting my bags, and one of my kids asks who the man is. Again, I don't think anything of it. As I'm about to open the door, I see a car turn the corner on the street and realize it's my husband. He pulls up and has a weird look on his face. We get the kids in the house, and he asks who the guy was. I asked what he meant, and he said when he pulled up the guy walked quickly away from my car.
Freaked me the hell out. I'm usually really careful about my surroundings, but for some reason I didn't pay attention. Very stupid of me.

Orange story was ok but not as creepy or believable as the guy in this thread who told the story about the crazy smiling guy (like Rose) following him down the alley and dancing. That one still holds the cake over the cave story.

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he other happened to me as a kid. I saw a guy in our neighborhood who looked suspicious. He was wearing coveralls and acting like he was checking gas meters. I will never forget his face cause he looked like an albino who dyed his hair. Anyway, I left for a friends house while my parents were out of town. I returned to our house before my parents did but knew I could get in through a small window only I could squeeze in. I luckily didn't make any noise entering cause as soon as I passed the hallway the albino came out of a bedroom. I saw his face but he never saw me pass. I hauled arse out of the front door and slammed it behind me hoping to scare him. Ran a 4.2 forty to the neighbors and called 911. Guy was never caught but I stopped him from whatever he was up to. Years later, I mean 20 plus, I see the guy at a mardi gras parade. Even though he was much older I still froze when I saw his face

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I had to stop reading the Chicago story because it was giving me anxiety.