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re: Need to Kill Time: What's a story that you've heard that still gives you chills
Posted on 1/31/25 at 12:46 pm to schatman
Posted on 1/31/25 at 12:46 pm to schatman
Until recently, I've only had one thing happen to me that truly shook me to my core...I actually posted about it in this thread a few years ago (page 87 or 88 if you're interested)....anyway, something else happened last weekend. It wasn't good.
My wife and I live in south Miss. Our daughter and 2 yr old granddaughter live north of Atlanta on Lake Lanier. My wife doesn't work, so at the drop of a hat she'll head to Georgia to see that grandbaby of ours. Any excuse will do. So when she's gone, me and my two dogs, Buck and Bilbo, hold it down at the house.
So last week Mrs. Metal makes her trip to Georgia. Me and the boys(Buck and Bilbo) post up for a few days. We stay up late, eat pizza, and hang out. Last Saturday night we stayed up fairly late and finally went to bed around midnight. The dogs always sleep on the bed, but down at my feet. Yes, we are those people. Anyway, we all fell asleep immediately
At 1:30 I was awakened by a loud noise downstairs, loud enough to wake me over the sound of the box fan next to my bed. It sounded like something being knocked over. The dogs are going crazy, staring at the bedroom door. I immediately turn the lamp on, grab the 9mm on the nightstand and start creeping downstairs. Now let me explain the layout. We live in a round, octagon type house. We live in the woods. (You cannot see another house from our 3 acres).Our bedroom is upstairs, along with 2 other bedrooms. Our bedroom is at the end of the hall, the other two bedrooms are on the left going towards our master bedroom. The house, being a very odd layout, has 5 double doors that open to the outside. We also have a bedroom downstairs, and out of that bedroom is one of the 5 doors that opens to the outside.
So I start creeping down the hall and down the stairs. The TV was still on, but the sound was muted. The TV provided the only lighting downstairs, so the reflection on the walls were already strange and moving. Obviously, when I headed downstairs my dogs were right there, going in front of me. When we made it downstairs the dogs went straight to the one downstairs bedroom. The door was closed to the outer hall. The dogs go straight to that door, growling, sniffing, and quite honestly, making sounds I had never heard them make before. So by now, I am extremely tense. I ease open the bedroom door and flip on the light. Since my son left many years ago we rarely even go in that room so only one of the bulbs are even working. Of course, right? So the feeble light didn't provide very much comfort. I ease through the room, very slowly, and make my way to the door that leads to the outside. It is unlocked.
Awesome. Dogs are still acting very strange. Obviously, I lock the door and creep through, looking in the closets, under the bed, everywhere. Nothing. I go all through the house. Nothing. Finally, I go back upstairs and lay back down in the bed. I never do this but I close and lock the bedroom door. The dogs jump back on the bed, but instead of lying down they sit right at the foot of the bed, staring at that door. Eventually, I turn the light off and somehow fall asleep. At 3:00 on the dot another noise awakens me. This time it sounded like a door closing. Again, loud enough to wake me upstairs, over the sound of the fan. I head back down again, dogs going berserk. As soon as we get back downstairs they go straight to the downstairs bedroom door. Again.
I slowly open the door and turn that pitiful light on. Dogs bolt straight in and go immediately to the outside door. I take 2 steps into the room and freeze. The door is unlocked again. The hair on back of my neck stands up and I felt the same fear I felt 14 years ago (see page 87 or 88 for my other story). I somehow make my way over and lock the door again. But this time there is no going back to sleep. I go through the house again, methodically, slowly. I turn every light in the house on and stay awake the rest of the night. I propped up against the farthest wall downstairs with my gun and simply waited. Finally morning came.
What I have since deducted is that when I went downstairs to check the first time, someone was still in my house. So that means they stayed in there, prowling around, until I heard the door shut at 3:00. The door that I now know was that downstairs bedroom door. Nothing in my house is missing that I can tell, but someone was definitely there. What were they doing? What did they do between my first search and hearing them leave at 3:00?
It was a terrifying experience. Anyway, just thought I would share. I still haven't told my wife. Should I tell her? What say ye?
My wife and I live in south Miss. Our daughter and 2 yr old granddaughter live north of Atlanta on Lake Lanier. My wife doesn't work, so at the drop of a hat she'll head to Georgia to see that grandbaby of ours. Any excuse will do. So when she's gone, me and my two dogs, Buck and Bilbo, hold it down at the house.
So last week Mrs. Metal makes her trip to Georgia. Me and the boys(Buck and Bilbo) post up for a few days. We stay up late, eat pizza, and hang out. Last Saturday night we stayed up fairly late and finally went to bed around midnight. The dogs always sleep on the bed, but down at my feet. Yes, we are those people. Anyway, we all fell asleep immediately
At 1:30 I was awakened by a loud noise downstairs, loud enough to wake me over the sound of the box fan next to my bed. It sounded like something being knocked over. The dogs are going crazy, staring at the bedroom door. I immediately turn the lamp on, grab the 9mm on the nightstand and start creeping downstairs. Now let me explain the layout. We live in a round, octagon type house. We live in the woods. (You cannot see another house from our 3 acres).Our bedroom is upstairs, along with 2 other bedrooms. Our bedroom is at the end of the hall, the other two bedrooms are on the left going towards our master bedroom. The house, being a very odd layout, has 5 double doors that open to the outside. We also have a bedroom downstairs, and out of that bedroom is one of the 5 doors that opens to the outside.
So I start creeping down the hall and down the stairs. The TV was still on, but the sound was muted. The TV provided the only lighting downstairs, so the reflection on the walls were already strange and moving. Obviously, when I headed downstairs my dogs were right there, going in front of me. When we made it downstairs the dogs went straight to the one downstairs bedroom. The door was closed to the outer hall. The dogs go straight to that door, growling, sniffing, and quite honestly, making sounds I had never heard them make before. So by now, I am extremely tense. I ease open the bedroom door and flip on the light. Since my son left many years ago we rarely even go in that room so only one of the bulbs are even working. Of course, right? So the feeble light didn't provide very much comfort. I ease through the room, very slowly, and make my way to the door that leads to the outside. It is unlocked.
Awesome. Dogs are still acting very strange. Obviously, I lock the door and creep through, looking in the closets, under the bed, everywhere. Nothing. I go all through the house. Nothing. Finally, I go back upstairs and lay back down in the bed. I never do this but I close and lock the bedroom door. The dogs jump back on the bed, but instead of lying down they sit right at the foot of the bed, staring at that door. Eventually, I turn the light off and somehow fall asleep. At 3:00 on the dot another noise awakens me. This time it sounded like a door closing. Again, loud enough to wake me upstairs, over the sound of the fan. I head back down again, dogs going berserk. As soon as we get back downstairs they go straight to the downstairs bedroom door. Again.
I slowly open the door and turn that pitiful light on. Dogs bolt straight in and go immediately to the outside door. I take 2 steps into the room and freeze. The door is unlocked again. The hair on back of my neck stands up and I felt the same fear I felt 14 years ago (see page 87 or 88 for my other story). I somehow make my way over and lock the door again. But this time there is no going back to sleep. I go through the house again, methodically, slowly. I turn every light in the house on and stay awake the rest of the night. I propped up against the farthest wall downstairs with my gun and simply waited. Finally morning came.
What I have since deducted is that when I went downstairs to check the first time, someone was still in my house. So that means they stayed in there, prowling around, until I heard the door shut at 3:00. The door that I now know was that downstairs bedroom door. Nothing in my house is missing that I can tell, but someone was definitely there. What were they doing? What did they do between my first search and hearing them leave at 3:00?
It was a terrifying experience. Anyway, just thought I would share. I still haven't told my wife. Should I tell her? What say ye?
This post was edited on 1/31/25 at 4:32 pm
4
Posted on 1/31/25 at 12:52 pm to themetalreb
Yeah, that's pretty damn freaky.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 1:03 pm to Fusaichi Pegasus
This is one my mom told me awhile back. Its the first one I thought about when I read this title.
She told me about a guy she graduated high school with. It was the summer after they graduated and this guy bought a motorcycle. He told her he was going to baton rouge (on the motorcycle) and his mom begged him to no drive to Baton Rouge since he hasn't had much experience driving it yet. He told her he was going and he and his mom got into a big argument before he jumped on his bike and took off. While on his way to Baton Rouge, he was hit by a car on Hwy 1 and was killed.
Less than an hour after arguing with him about not going, the police were at her house informing her that her son had been killed by a driver who hit him on his motorcycle.
His mother blamed herself because of the way he left.. I guess he drove off as someone pissed off would and she thought that if she wouldn't have said anything he might not have been on the road driving recklessly, but I just couldn't imagine a parent having to live with that, even if that's wasn't the case. I don't know who was ruled at fault in the wreck or anything, but its just one of those "you never know" type situations.
She told me about a guy she graduated high school with. It was the summer after they graduated and this guy bought a motorcycle. He told her he was going to baton rouge (on the motorcycle) and his mom begged him to no drive to Baton Rouge since he hasn't had much experience driving it yet. He told her he was going and he and his mom got into a big argument before he jumped on his bike and took off. While on his way to Baton Rouge, he was hit by a car on Hwy 1 and was killed.
Less than an hour after arguing with him about not going, the police were at her house informing her that her son had been killed by a driver who hit him on his motorcycle.
His mother blamed herself because of the way he left.. I guess he drove off as someone pissed off would and she thought that if she wouldn't have said anything he might not have been on the road driving recklessly, but I just couldn't imagine a parent having to live with that, even if that's wasn't the case. I don't know who was ruled at fault in the wreck or anything, but its just one of those "you never know" type situations.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 1:22 pm to themetalreb
Creepy, yes, but if someone was still in your house, your dogs failed big time.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 1:29 pm to calcotron
Yeah, maybe. They knew someone was in there when we went back upstairs the first time. That's why they sat at the edge of the bed and never went back to sleep. I don't even think I put that in the story, but when we went back upstairs the first time I don't think the dogs ever slept again. When I woke up the second time they seemed to be already awake going crazy.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 1:31 pm to themetalreb
quote:
Should I tell her?
Only if you want to move.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 2:11 pm to Deek
no
Posted on 1/31/25 at 2:25 pm to themetalreb
quote:
I still haven't told my wife. Should I tell her?
Hell Nah
Posted on 1/31/25 at 2:39 pm to boxcarbarney
I start reading this thread and now my dog is acting funny, staring at the door. Not growling, just standing in the kitchen staring down the hall to the front door.
frick this thread.
frick this thread.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 2:40 pm to Fusaichi Pegasus
I searched this thread (It's big - TWSS) to see if I had posted it here before - I know I've posted a version of it at least once, if not more than that, in "ghost story" threads on the O-T. It doesn't seem to be here, so apologies if a repeat.
Anyway, here is a version of my true story (technically, I could be doxxed with this, but it would take a lot of work):
The year was 2000. I was working an *ahem* interesting auto accident case, really a case for another time and thread. We had struggled to get the deposition of an insured non-driver (he owned the car, but was a passenger on the day of the accident) conducted. The judge finally ordered the deposition be taken at the insured's home in very, very rural Louisiana.
I arrived early and the deposition largely concerned the actions of the driver of the insured vehicle, who had since deceased. We'll just call him Mr. X. Mr. X was almost certainly intoxicated on the day in question, although the insured downplayed it. The accident itself occurred on a holiday and Mr. X died in a subsequent driving incident in which he was almost certainly intoxicated. Took about an hour.
As I was driving home, I recalled that it was a short detour to visit the cemetery where my mother and members of her family were buried and I had not been out there in some time. For the record, I've been on this road many times and have never been "pulled" to go to the cemetery. Since my grandparents were buried there 50+ years ago, I've probably been to visit 12 to 15 times, roughly half of those at gravesite services for other family members. So, it is not even a yearly event for me.
I arrive and visit where my mother and her parents are buried, remembering previous visits and all that. They are close together, but the subsequent burials are in a new portion of the cemetery, so I figured, while I was there, I would see what had changed since the most recent graveside service of about a year, year and half prior. Having done that, I felt a presence pulling me or at least compelling me. I was making my way back to my car which was parked very near my mother and grandparents graves. This area between the "new" section where some of my aunts and uncles are buried and where I parked only constitutes about 20% of this particular cemetery.
Regardless, I was not making a beeline back to the car, I felt compelled to go up and down the rows, scanning names on headstones. I made about 4 to 5 rows (about halfway back to my car) and I saw a headstone that stood out. Much darker and almost brand new. I looked at the name and froze. It was that MFer Mr. X. All the hair on my body stood up and I "Noped" the frick out of there.
#Truestory
Anyway, here is a version of my true story (technically, I could be doxxed with this, but it would take a lot of work):
The year was 2000. I was working an *ahem* interesting auto accident case, really a case for another time and thread. We had struggled to get the deposition of an insured non-driver (he owned the car, but was a passenger on the day of the accident) conducted. The judge finally ordered the deposition be taken at the insured's home in very, very rural Louisiana.
I arrived early and the deposition largely concerned the actions of the driver of the insured vehicle, who had since deceased. We'll just call him Mr. X. Mr. X was almost certainly intoxicated on the day in question, although the insured downplayed it. The accident itself occurred on a holiday and Mr. X died in a subsequent driving incident in which he was almost certainly intoxicated. Took about an hour.
As I was driving home, I recalled that it was a short detour to visit the cemetery where my mother and members of her family were buried and I had not been out there in some time. For the record, I've been on this road many times and have never been "pulled" to go to the cemetery. Since my grandparents were buried there 50+ years ago, I've probably been to visit 12 to 15 times, roughly half of those at gravesite services for other family members. So, it is not even a yearly event for me.
I arrive and visit where my mother and her parents are buried, remembering previous visits and all that. They are close together, but the subsequent burials are in a new portion of the cemetery, so I figured, while I was there, I would see what had changed since the most recent graveside service of about a year, year and half prior. Having done that, I felt a presence pulling me or at least compelling me. I was making my way back to my car which was parked very near my mother and grandparents graves. This area between the "new" section where some of my aunts and uncles are buried and where I parked only constitutes about 20% of this particular cemetery.
Regardless, I was not making a beeline back to the car, I felt compelled to go up and down the rows, scanning names on headstones. I made about 4 to 5 rows (about halfway back to my car) and I saw a headstone that stood out. Much darker and almost brand new. I looked at the name and froze. It was that MFer Mr. X. All the hair on my body stood up and I "Noped" the frick out of there.
#Truestory
Posted on 1/31/25 at 2:40 pm to Ace Midnight
This thread needs to be a sticky
Posted on 1/31/25 at 3:03 pm to Spaceman Spiff
Too young to remember this but I think I was 4-5 years old and my family and I were at an amusement park. My cousin who is a year older and I were riding rides together and my parents aunt and uncle and grandparents were sitting together watching us go from ride to ride. This would have been around 2000 so different times than now. Anyways, we apparently got off a ride and as we were walking to the next one some guy came up to us and grabbed my hand and started walking off. My uncle grandad and dad immediately jumped up thankfully and ran the guy down and grabbed me. The guy immediately apologized and said he thought I was his kid. I’m a guy with bright red hair.
A couple hours later my parents see the same guy walking by with a young girl with blond hair. Immediately unnerved they try to get to him but lose him in the crowd. No idea if the guy was a kidnapper or if he just is blind and thought I was his kid. Still kinda creeps me out thinking about me being kidnapped possibly.
A couple hours later my parents see the same guy walking by with a young girl with blond hair. Immediately unnerved they try to get to him but lose him in the crowd. No idea if the guy was a kidnapper or if he just is blind and thought I was his kid. Still kinda creeps me out thinking about me being kidnapped possibly.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 4:23 pm to Ace Midnight
I don't know how on earth you could be doxxed with that?
Posted on 1/31/25 at 5:12 pm to themetalreb
This thread is the goat
Posted on 1/31/25 at 5:48 pm to calcotron
quote:
Creepy, yes, but if someone was still in your house, your dogs failed big time.
True. And he also failed at properly clearing his house. That’s definitely a “no stone unturned and most of them twice” kind of situation.
That’s a great story though, and creepy for sure.
I don’t have any scary stories but I did come home one night (after being gone for hours) and my side door was wide arse open. And there was a small, perfect square of carpet (like maybe 4x4 inches or so) that had been cut out and set aside. Like someone cut it, pulled it out, and set it down next to the square hole it just left. I was terrified at first, and this was before I had a guns. So I grabbed a huge kitchen knife and went to every room and opened closet doors and slashed inside.
I live in a pretty small house so it was easy to clear and keep track of making sure nobody was doubling back to where I’d miss them (which is pretty impossible in my house anyway). I even checked the attic I believe. At the time I also had two cats and they were as normal as can be when I got home. It was just so fricking weird. If the door was open itself, I could’ve chalked it up to maybe not closing it and the wind forced it open or some shite. But the square piece of carpet had me mindfricked. All I could guess was that it has been previously cut (which my stepdad later confirmed to me…we had bought the house from him previously so he was the previous owner) and somehow my cats managed to pull it out. But I had lived there for prolly 15 years (a few with my mom and then alone after she moved away) and never knew this cut piece of carpet existed. So for my cats to randomly discover it on the same night that my side door to my house was wide arse open freaked me out good.
Posted on 1/31/25 at 7:40 pm to CocomoLSU
This is a repost from a previous topic but I feel this story fits here perfectly.
Louisiana Urban Legends
Growing up as a Kid, there was a story of the lost souls on Bayou Sale Rd between Dulac and Cocodrie. Legend goes that it’s the Purgatory of the swamp. If you see a hitchhiker, chances are it’s a soul set to embark on the long walk that never ends through the gnats, gators and other demon animals of the night.
All the fiddler crabs are just the souls that have given up and left to fend for themselves. In the middle of Bayou Sale Rd, there is a cross that has been up for many years to help them guide their way to salvation. When I was in high school, Father Freddie Decal from Holy Family Catholic Church went to bless the road after hearing of the myth and placed the cross and wreath in that location. After, it was said he felt, “an uneasy feeling of guilt and despair came among him when he entered the first hard turn. Like he couldn’t look in his rear view mirror for it would be like looking into the soul of someone he couldn’t help.”
People speed on that road all the time and see the hitchhikers. When they look back, they are gone.
Louisiana Urban Legends
Growing up as a Kid, there was a story of the lost souls on Bayou Sale Rd between Dulac and Cocodrie. Legend goes that it’s the Purgatory of the swamp. If you see a hitchhiker, chances are it’s a soul set to embark on the long walk that never ends through the gnats, gators and other demon animals of the night.
All the fiddler crabs are just the souls that have given up and left to fend for themselves. In the middle of Bayou Sale Rd, there is a cross that has been up for many years to help them guide their way to salvation. When I was in high school, Father Freddie Decal from Holy Family Catholic Church went to bless the road after hearing of the myth and placed the cross and wreath in that location. After, it was said he felt, “an uneasy feeling of guilt and despair came among him when he entered the first hard turn. Like he couldn’t look in his rear view mirror for it would be like looking into the soul of someone he couldn’t help.”
People speed on that road all the time and see the hitchhikers. When they look back, they are gone.
Posted on 2/8/25 at 11:13 am to BuddyRoeaux
Just heard this story at work today and my first thought was, this will be perfect for my favorite thread...
I'm re-telling it as I just heard it, and I have to say my co-worker went into great detail.
Every small town has one. That one oddball who just isn't quite right. The guy who roams the streets and appears in places where you just don't want to see him. We had one in my town. His last name was Swayze so of course everyone called him Crazy Swayze. I always heard he got kicked in the head by a horse when he was a kid and was never right. He lived in a tent on the banks of the muddy Pearl River.
Anyway, back to the story. My friend at work says the guy like that who grew up in his town was named Luther. Most of these kind of folks are harmless for the most part, but not Luther. Luther was crazy, and had been violent on more than one occasion. The kids in town called him Luthifer.
Luther was tall. Apparently around 6'8 and when he walked his whole body jerked in a strange, chaotic motion. His arms flailed and he even moved his head from side to side. Being a tall guy he took huge strides. He stunk, and was just a very unpleasant guy to be around. Now here's what was strange about Luther. No one knew where he lived. That is very unusual in a town of 4,000 people, especially for one of it's most infamous residents. Luther would just seem to materialize out of the blue all over town. According to what I was told he roamed around that town for 30 years.
One of the town elders was Ms. Frances...Ms. Frances lived right off of main street in one of those classic older "town" homes with the big porch and a swing on one end of it. The old house had two front doors as houses did that were built back in the day. Back to Luther. Amongst his many odd habits, Luther would often get somewhere and just crouch down in what looked to be a super uncomfortable position. My friend said he had a way of just folding his big frame down next to nothing. Folks would find him at the edge of their yard at night, or in their garage in the mornings, crouched down in that unhnged manner. He always looked right into people's eyes like he hated them.
One Wednesday night Ms. Frances came home from church around 8:30. She made her way to her front porch and went to unlock the front door on the right, which is the one she always used. Suddenly, she heard a voice say, "You didn't know I was here, did you?"...she looked to her left and crouched down on the other end of her porch in the dark was Luther. Ms. Frances said later that he looked extra unstable at the moment, even by his standards, and she feared for her life. Luther begin to unfold from his strange position, and slowly begin to walk over to Ms. Frances. He got so close to her their noses were nearly touching. "I'm going to live with you now"...Ms. Frances stepped back and answered "Luther I don't think we can do that honey"...Luther said "oh yes we can" and stepped off the porch and disappeared into the night.
You already know where this is going. Over the next few months Ms.Frances would have food missing from her cabinets and refrigerator. She would often feel like she was not alone in her home. Obviously she feared Luther was coming in her house at night and taking her things. The police came over time and time again, but without catching Luther there just wasn't much they could do.
Finally one night Luther lost it. After a high school football game on a Friday night in that little town some people were walking back to their car and Luther appeared out of the darkness and started following them, laughing maniacally. He tried to get in their car with them so they called the cops. Luther climbed on top of their car and folded into that weird crouching box position, laughing and howling like a hyena. The cops arrived and arrested Luther. The folks were frightened and angry and they wanted to press every charge possible against Luther. So the cops hauled him to jail where they could sort it all out.
Later that same night, across town Ms. Frances kept hearing something on her porch. Now, by this point Ms. Frances is being tormented by the fact that she knows someone, (and she knew who), was coming in and out of her house. Finally, she gets the courage to at least peak out the window to see what she could see. There he was. Crouched down in that weird folded position was Luther. She immediately called the cops. They explained to her that it couldn't be Luther because they had him in jail at that very moment. Nevertheless, they would come check it out.
When the cops got to Ms. Frances' house that night, bewilderment reigned supreme. They walk on the porch, and sure enough, there's Luther, huddled down in the corner, looking at them with pure malice. The cops start freaking out, as they had just arrested him and knew he was in jail. One of them yelled "Luther, What is going on here! How did you get out? What are you doing here?" Luther began to unfold and stand up on that porch and gave them all the shock of their lives. "You didn't arrest me. You arrested my twin brother Larry"...with that, he shuffled off the porch and was never seen again.
So all those years, there were two. To this day the twins origin is still a mystery. It seems that one day they just "appeared" out of thin air and no one ever knew anything about them. From what I understand, Larry was released from jail later that night and no one has seen either of them since.
I'm re-telling it as I just heard it, and I have to say my co-worker went into great detail.
Every small town has one. That one oddball who just isn't quite right. The guy who roams the streets and appears in places where you just don't want to see him. We had one in my town. His last name was Swayze so of course everyone called him Crazy Swayze. I always heard he got kicked in the head by a horse when he was a kid and was never right. He lived in a tent on the banks of the muddy Pearl River.
Anyway, back to the story. My friend at work says the guy like that who grew up in his town was named Luther. Most of these kind of folks are harmless for the most part, but not Luther. Luther was crazy, and had been violent on more than one occasion. The kids in town called him Luthifer.
Luther was tall. Apparently around 6'8 and when he walked his whole body jerked in a strange, chaotic motion. His arms flailed and he even moved his head from side to side. Being a tall guy he took huge strides. He stunk, and was just a very unpleasant guy to be around. Now here's what was strange about Luther. No one knew where he lived. That is very unusual in a town of 4,000 people, especially for one of it's most infamous residents. Luther would just seem to materialize out of the blue all over town. According to what I was told he roamed around that town for 30 years.
One of the town elders was Ms. Frances...Ms. Frances lived right off of main street in one of those classic older "town" homes with the big porch and a swing on one end of it. The old house had two front doors as houses did that were built back in the day. Back to Luther. Amongst his many odd habits, Luther would often get somewhere and just crouch down in what looked to be a super uncomfortable position. My friend said he had a way of just folding his big frame down next to nothing. Folks would find him at the edge of their yard at night, or in their garage in the mornings, crouched down in that unhnged manner. He always looked right into people's eyes like he hated them.
One Wednesday night Ms. Frances came home from church around 8:30. She made her way to her front porch and went to unlock the front door on the right, which is the one she always used. Suddenly, she heard a voice say, "You didn't know I was here, did you?"...she looked to her left and crouched down on the other end of her porch in the dark was Luther. Ms. Frances said later that he looked extra unstable at the moment, even by his standards, and she feared for her life. Luther begin to unfold from his strange position, and slowly begin to walk over to Ms. Frances. He got so close to her their noses were nearly touching. "I'm going to live with you now"...Ms. Frances stepped back and answered "Luther I don't think we can do that honey"...Luther said "oh yes we can" and stepped off the porch and disappeared into the night.
You already know where this is going. Over the next few months Ms.Frances would have food missing from her cabinets and refrigerator. She would often feel like she was not alone in her home. Obviously she feared Luther was coming in her house at night and taking her things. The police came over time and time again, but without catching Luther there just wasn't much they could do.
Finally one night Luther lost it. After a high school football game on a Friday night in that little town some people were walking back to their car and Luther appeared out of the darkness and started following them, laughing maniacally. He tried to get in their car with them so they called the cops. Luther climbed on top of their car and folded into that weird crouching box position, laughing and howling like a hyena. The cops arrived and arrested Luther. The folks were frightened and angry and they wanted to press every charge possible against Luther. So the cops hauled him to jail where they could sort it all out.
Later that same night, across town Ms. Frances kept hearing something on her porch. Now, by this point Ms. Frances is being tormented by the fact that she knows someone, (and she knew who), was coming in and out of her house. Finally, she gets the courage to at least peak out the window to see what she could see. There he was. Crouched down in that weird folded position was Luther. She immediately called the cops. They explained to her that it couldn't be Luther because they had him in jail at that very moment. Nevertheless, they would come check it out.
When the cops got to Ms. Frances' house that night, bewilderment reigned supreme. They walk on the porch, and sure enough, there's Luther, huddled down in the corner, looking at them with pure malice. The cops start freaking out, as they had just arrested him and knew he was in jail. One of them yelled "Luther, What is going on here! How did you get out? What are you doing here?" Luther began to unfold and stand up on that porch and gave them all the shock of their lives. "You didn't arrest me. You arrested my twin brother Larry"...with that, he shuffled off the porch and was never seen again.
So all those years, there were two. To this day the twins origin is still a mystery. It seems that one day they just "appeared" out of thin air and no one ever knew anything about them. From what I understand, Larry was released from jail later that night and no one has seen either of them since.
This post was edited on 3/11/25 at 12:45 pm
Posted on 2/8/25 at 11:44 am to Fusaichi Pegasus
Everytime the news reports of something the demoncraps are doing.
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