Scary Halloween Stories for Kids
By Arnie Lightning
Arnie Lightning Books
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Copyright © 2014 by Hey Sup Bye Publishing
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. No part of this book or this book as a whole may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or means without written permission from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Night Landscape
The Phone
The House Party
Under the Bed
The Thing in My Dreams
Behind You
The Man in the Dark Blue Suit
Do Not Look
Don't Believe in Ghosts
A Familiar House
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Night Landscape
Roger drove slowly down the country road. It was midnight, and with not a streetlight in sight, he could only barely make out the road ahead of him. The pavement seemed to materialize in the beams of the car's headlights, disappearing just the same in the red glow by the read of the car. To either side of him lay dark, featureless countryside. He would glance out the side windows from time to time, hoping to see some kind of light, some sign of people, but for the last hour there had been nothing.
His phone died two hours ago, and with it he had lost his only guidance. From then on he depended on his own sense of direction and the few maps he had stuffed in his glove compartment. Neither had been of any help to him. He did not know this area at all. Even if it were light out he would be lost, but with even the light of the moon hidden behind clouds he was completely hopeless. He did not even know how long he had been on this road, but it felt like ages since he had seen an intersection or even a sign.
Roger checked his rear-view mirrors. Maybe he would see the twin lights of another car. At least then he would not be alone. He may even let them pass him so he could follow them out of here. There was nothing but an infinite void behind him. He shuddered and looked at the right side mirror. At least through that he could see the landscape. At least through that he could see the end of the darkness as the land gave way to the dark blue sky.
A mountain in the distance behind him caught his eye. It was just like the land around it, a constant black shape that cut upwards into the sky, but something about it upset him to his core. It sent a chill about his whole body. He had spent too much time looking back, he turned his gaze back to the road ahead of him.
The road curved and twisted. As he drove up subtle hills the shadows that lay just beyond his headlights seemed to rise up from the ground. He shook his head. It was nonsense. A trick of the light. As he reached the top of these hills the shadows proved to be just that, flat sections of darkness that soon disappeared as the light pushed through them. He laughed quietly. He needed to find somewhere to stop and sleep.
The laughter died in his throat as he looked back at his right side mirror. He realized just what it was about the mountain that had upset him. When he had looked back before there was no mountain. And as he looked back at the passing landscape the mountain was again gone. He pressed on the accelerator and gripped the wheel tightly. He could not stop here!
The Phone
It was such an odd thing. At least, to me it seemed odd. I could not think of any reason to have a telephone in a graveyard, but I will admit that there is a possible use for one. I did not even think it would work. It hung against a tree at an odd angle, no visible wires connecting it to the phone lines that ran from pole to pole at the graveyard's border.
Curious, I picked the receiver up and held it to my ear. Sure enough, a dial tone hummed. I played with the dial, dragging it around in a circle so I could hear it whir back into place. I tapped the button in the cradle to hang up and then started to dial my home. I wanted to be sure this phone really worked. There was a ringing sound in the receiver. I held it away from my ear and listened carefully. My house was not far from where I stood. I listened, but could not make out any sound over the passing traffic.
The receiver started speaking. It was my mother. She asked who was calling. I giggled and hung up the phone. It really did work. Though that did not explain why it was there. A working phone out here in the graveyard? I shrugged and headed home.
That night, my parents left for a party, trusting me to take care of myself. I took this opportunity to eat junk food and watch the movie channels late into the night, drifting to sleep on the couch. The phone woke me up harshly. I turned and fell onto the floor, scrambling to the telephone. I answered the phone. The other end of the line was silent save for the sound of someone breathing. A prank phone call I figured.
I told the other end that this was not going to scare me and that they should not bother calling again. It was not going to scare me and it would only be a waste of both our times. I hung up. Then I thought for a moment. There was a chance they would still call back, if I really wanted them to stop I would have to play by their rules. I dialed the star and then six and nine. A robotic voice read off the number that the pranksters had called from. I hung up and dialed the number.
A cool breeze blew in through an open window. The leaves outside rustled, the only noise that evening. As the phone rang the breeze slowed and then finally stopped. The world outside was totally silent. Except for one thing. A ringing noise. Somewhere out in the graveyard. It stopped on the third ring. I hung up before they could answer.
The House Party
Everyone knew about the house up on the hill. Everyone knew its history and its owner. Everyone knew about the parties that used to go on up there, the noise and lights that used to fill the house every weekend. Everyone knew about the last party. The night the house grew silent and stayed that way. The day after the party the police searched the house and found it empty.
Everyone knew these things, but no one knew why the parties continued every weekend since. No one understood where the lights were coming from. The electric company had shut the power off after the owner disappeared and stopped paying the bills, but each weekend the lights came on nonetheless. No one could explain the sounds that came from the house. From afar, it sounded like any other party that had gone on there. As one drew closer, the sounds changed. The happy cheers, the music, it all seemed to slow down, to meld into one single continuous noise.
Many had ventured up to the house to see what was happening. It became a local challenge to get as close as possible to the house before losing courage. Children went in groups, watching each other's efforts from the gate and cheering. Most turned around halfway up the hill as the light and sound grew too harsh. A few had made it as far as the front steps. Only two had made it to the door.
The twins, Marcus and Luke, had gone together. They held tightly to each other as the lights in the house started to hurt their eyes and the sounds of the party warped into a loud many voiced scream. Th
ey touched the doorknob together and opened the door. The children at the gate lost sight of the twins and called out to them. A few minutes later Luke came running back down the hill.
The next day, a search of the house found no trace of Marcus. The children of the town were forbidden to play their game. They did not need to be told twice. Luke especially did not want to go back to the house. He did whatever he could to avoid walking anywhere near it.
A few weeks later, Luke vanished too. Everyone said he ran away from town to get away from the house that took his brother. Everyone was sure of it. No one had noticed the invitation on Luke's desk to a party at the house on the hill, signed by Marcus.
Under the Bed
Christie lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was almost certain she had heard something, but she had been drifting asleep and it was so faint. She listened but there was no sound. She sighed and turned onto her side. Then she heard it again. A soft moaning. It was brief, but this time she was sure of what she heard. She sat up and scanned her room, listening for the sound.
“Hello?” she asked her dark room.
She was answered by another moan. Her back stiffened as she peered over the edge of her bed. The sound was coming from beneath her. Slowly, cautiously, Christie lowered herself down to look under her bed. What she saw made no sense. Though her head