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OK guys, this thread is meant to be like what I believe is the favorite part of camping for many of us: sharing scary stories around the campfire at night. So, come on over, sit down around the fire and do your best to scare everyone!
Let me start by introducing you to the world of shadows... my world... >)
It was a mundane night in Leonidion like all the others before it. I had finished my homework and since there was no one home I thought I'd surf the net for a while. Those where the glorious days when I'd stay online most of my free time, being active in 1-2 forums and talking to people on Trillian (AIM, YIM, MSN, ICQ, IRC). At the time I was talking to a friend from Belgium on MSN. Despite all the shadows I've encountered in my life I wouldn't think of myself as a scardycat, so most of the lights in the house where off apart from a lampshade with a dimmer, situated on the far right corner to the back of the room. It provided a low, gentle lighting.
An abstract painting my mother had bought before I was born was hanging on the wall to my right. As I was typing, a lock of hair fell into my face and I casually brushed it away with my hand, at the same time turning to look at my reflection in the painting out of habit --I often used it as a low quality mirror.
I froze.
I just stood there motionless, my hand still in my hair, staring. The shadow in the mirror was staring back, its hands to its sides. My blood felt still and rigid as ice in my veins, my heart seemingly having forgotten how to beat. For a lifetime that lasted less than a second I stood there staring, enthralled and then the shadow came to life. It turned its head toward me in an unnatural, unsettling way, twisting its shadowy neck more than what should be possible. Somehow, though the doppelganger was but a dark, smoky silhouette I could sense that it was smiling at me. I could feel its smug grin and the playful, arrogant glint in its nonexistent eyes, just as I could feel the invisible dark aura it exuded. An aura that hinted at a dark, insatiable appetite. A deep hunger.
Hunger for my fear.
The shadow was cackling soundlessly. An unnerving feeling started creeping up my spine, until it consumed me whole and took my breath away: somehow the doppelganger's wicked, soundless cackling would cause the mirror to crack. It would crack. Any moment now. It would crack and the horrible shockwave of darkness would violently tear my spirit from my body, leaving it cold and lifeless. And then...
...nothing.
The shadow faded away, its soundless mocking laughter the only thing left behind echoing inside my head. Reality came rushing back, flooding my senses. My shadow was gone. My shadow was gone?
Nonsense, a shadow isn't something one can lose, not unless their body stops obstructing the path of photons anyway. I made to raise my right hand, but then stopped afraid of what I'd discover, unable to face the outcome of the simplest of tests. Curiosity however triumphed over fear (as was often the case) and I suddenly raised both of my hands in the air flailing wildly.
Nothing.
Panicked I stood up and rushed to the painting. As any high school physicist would have predicted, there my reflection stood imitating my every motion, as usual. I went back to my father's desk and my shadow was gone again. Something was amiss, but I was starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I stood up again and inspected the desk and its surroundings. Suddenly everything made sense. Well, almost everything. My father had moved the desk closer to the west wall, so the painting could no longer function as a mirror while I sat there.
But when was the desk moved? How long had I been staring at a false shadow for...?
Aaaaand, that was my first scary story! I'll share more stories involving the shadows and myself in the future, provided there's enough interest (1 person is enough ). For the time being, I urge you all to share your own scary stories!!
Let me start by introducing you to the world of shadows... my world... >)
Doppelganger
It was a mundane night in Leonidion like all the others before it. I had finished my homework and since there was no one home I thought I'd surf the net for a while. Those where the glorious days when I'd stay online most of my free time, being active in 1-2 forums and talking to people on Trillian (AIM, YIM, MSN, ICQ, IRC). At the time I was talking to a friend from Belgium on MSN. Despite all the shadows I've encountered in my life I wouldn't think of myself as a scardycat, so most of the lights in the house where off apart from a lampshade with a dimmer, situated on the far right corner to the back of the room. It provided a low, gentle lighting.
An abstract painting my mother had bought before I was born was hanging on the wall to my right. As I was typing, a lock of hair fell into my face and I casually brushed it away with my hand, at the same time turning to look at my reflection in the painting out of habit --I often used it as a low quality mirror.
I froze.
I just stood there motionless, my hand still in my hair, staring. The shadow in the mirror was staring back, its hands to its sides. My blood felt still and rigid as ice in my veins, my heart seemingly having forgotten how to beat. For a lifetime that lasted less than a second I stood there staring, enthralled and then the shadow came to life. It turned its head toward me in an unnatural, unsettling way, twisting its shadowy neck more than what should be possible. Somehow, though the doppelganger was but a dark, smoky silhouette I could sense that it was smiling at me. I could feel its smug grin and the playful, arrogant glint in its nonexistent eyes, just as I could feel the invisible dark aura it exuded. An aura that hinted at a dark, insatiable appetite. A deep hunger.
Hunger for my fear.
The shadow was cackling soundlessly. An unnerving feeling started creeping up my spine, until it consumed me whole and took my breath away: somehow the doppelganger's wicked, soundless cackling would cause the mirror to crack. It would crack. Any moment now. It would crack and the horrible shockwave of darkness would violently tear my spirit from my body, leaving it cold and lifeless. And then...
...nothing.
The shadow faded away, its soundless mocking laughter the only thing left behind echoing inside my head. Reality came rushing back, flooding my senses. My shadow was gone. My shadow was gone?
Nonsense, a shadow isn't something one can lose, not unless their body stops obstructing the path of photons anyway. I made to raise my right hand, but then stopped afraid of what I'd discover, unable to face the outcome of the simplest of tests. Curiosity however triumphed over fear (as was often the case) and I suddenly raised both of my hands in the air flailing wildly.
Nothing.
Panicked I stood up and rushed to the painting. As any high school physicist would have predicted, there my reflection stood imitating my every motion, as usual. I went back to my father's desk and my shadow was gone again. Something was amiss, but I was starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I stood up again and inspected the desk and its surroundings. Suddenly everything made sense. Well, almost everything. My father had moved the desk closer to the west wall, so the painting could no longer function as a mirror while I sat there.
But when was the desk moved? How long had I been staring at a false shadow for...?
Aaaaand, that was my first scary story! I'll share more stories involving the shadows and myself in the future, provided there's enough interest (1 person is enough ). For the time being, I urge you all to share your own scary stories!!
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