drinkswiththeunknown

They say to never flash your headlights at night to cars that don't have theirs on. 23-year-old Jenny found out why when the completely blacked-out Dodge Challenger made a U-turn on January 2, 2015. After visiting her parents Jenny was on her way back home taking the same route as always. Nothing out of the ordinary. One of the apprehended men from the incident confessed to the murder. A guilty conscience from a young man looking for acceptance. Even if that acceptance is from a gang. The goal was simple. First car to flash their lights was the chosen victim. Jenny, unfortunately, was the first to do so. They followed Jenny a few more blocks from where she flashed them. Ran her off the road. And the man ran out the car and shot Jenny in the face from point blank range. Initiation meant nothing to him once he was in the interrogation room. He cracked immediately. Told the investigators everything. Funny thing is, they were looking for information on something unrelated.  Don...

"I don't know if we should be here. It's dark and I can't see a thing. Plus, what if the stories are true?" "If they are true, then we'll be the first to capture it on film." The Sun was setting but Jason and Rebecca pushed on deeper into the woods surrounding Lake Worth. The tall tales of a humanoid half-goat, half-reptile were running rampant through town and Jason planned on being the first to capture the creature on film. At all costs. Rebecca wasn't too thrilled to be out in the woods but if Jason was there, so was she. "Can we go? If we hurry back, we could still have some alone time in the car." "What was that?" The couple was nearing Greer Island, the supposed report of the creature's home when they could hear the sound of brush being smashed under the weight of something heavy. Then heavy breathing filled the air. Jason held Rebecca close to his side trying to keep her quiet. He knew as well her they ...

"Hold your breath when you pass a cemetery, or you'll breathe in a spirit and take it home with you." "What? I never heard that before." "My cousin was a jerk to me when I was a kid and told me that and I've always done it. I'm not going to risk it." "Ok, well, this cemetery is long, and we have to take this road. It's a shortcut to the apartment." "I can do it." I held my breath as long as I could. Fifty yards before the end of Hall Street and my lungs were on fire. Lightheadedness kicked in. My eyes became watery. That large gasp of air was a relief from the pain I felt in my chest. That large gasp of air was exactly what the spirit from Greenwood cemetery needed to get inside of me. I was the vessel it needed to escape the cemetery and make its way to their new home.  Our home. Cemetery superstitions The first part of that story has some truth. When I was growing up, I had some unpleasant times with...

The year is 1989. Harold is finishing up another late night in his office on the thirteenth floor located off Blackburn and Oak Lawn near Turtle Creek. Work is never done when you are skimming off the top of cooked books for shady business owners. Harold played a prominent role for many of his clients. Some he never met face to face. There's always a third-party when dealing with Harold. He was careful. He was meticulous. Above all else, he was smart. Harold knew if he was ever caught, he would have to make a smooth getaway. Only a few people see his face. And none of them, as far as he knew, were ever the ones paying him. After fifteen years of cooking books and no one catching on, he felt invincible. This could be what led him to take on more clients that asked for more than adding a zero here and there.  When he was leaving his office this night, he was approached by a man he had not met before. But this man knew Harold. Normally when working a job Harold meets with the s...

My cousins and I have only met a handful of times. Yet, we all shared a common interest, the darker side of things in life. My grandpa and uncles have a knack for telling horror stories good enough to keep us up at night. That might explain why although my cousins and I didn't spend much time together we still had something to bond over.  All six of us were upstairs while the rest of the family reunion went on downstairs. I couldn't tell you whose idea it was to play, but I know my cousin Michael wasn't a willing participant without some coercion. Big brothers have that effect on younger siblings. Michael laid down in the center of the bedroom while the rest of us circled. Sarah hit the lights and then kneeled down by his head. She began rubbing his temples with two fingers on each side. The rest of us put our index and pointer fingers under Michael's body. Sarah said out loud: You are walking through a dark alley late at night. You are the only one there. The ...

It was around three a.m. when we heard the whistles coming from the backyard. My cousin's room was in the back of the house and his large bedroom window faced the backyard. It stood around three feet with completely blacked-out piercing eyes. Perched on the back fence, it continued to whistle at us. Calling us out. Begging us to come outside. We froze in fear. It was just a story; or, at least it was only a story until we heard and saw the lechuza. It had to have been a minute or two stuck in a trance staring into those black eyes until the back-porch lightbulb burned out. Moonlight only made the creature appear more sinister. The sudden burst within the bulb is what broke the trance. A couple of moments passed, and the whistling stopped. No one believed us the next day. We wouldn't either have we not seen and heard the calls of the lechuza.  What happened that night As two thirteen-old teens are to do, we talked about everything unknown that night. The conver...

Nothing could stop the train barreling towards the school bus trapped on the tracks. The driver's eyes stayed glued on the three thousand-ton freight train making its presence known the closer it came into sight. Rumbling was felt throughout the bus as the train kept getting closer. Each second felt like an eternity for the fourteen children frozen in fear. Screams were muffled by the overbearing sound of the train horn warning the school bus and its passengers collision was imminent. Over and over the driver continued to turn his key in the ignition. Sweat beaded on his forehead while he prayed to every God he knew. Two children survived the crash. They were found huddled together under a seat behind the driver. Ten years after the accident one of the survivors took their life on the tracks. Survivors guilt was too much for them to bear. The other child continued to search for answers until their death. It didn't make sense for the bus to come to a complete stop as th...