Sad and scary stories

You never know what will happen... Things come and out! Don’t make enemy’s, get weird/scary things and never do bad things and you’re okay.

[© 2017 All rights Reserved To Book Maker and Ninja Togepi]

Author's note


44. The Curse


She scurried underneath the pine branches. Thankfully, she was tiny enough to do so. 

"You're gonna get lost if you don't hurry up!" 

The little girl whined, but carried on. 

"You are a meany, Danny! I'm gonna tell Dad!" 

The young man just a few strides in front of her, who was not having a nice time with the branches, chortled. "Why would you do that, Ash? I'm tryin'a show you something awesome!" 

"It's not awesome!" she protested. "It's scary! And I don't like 'Ash'!" 

Danny had never understood her aversion to the nickname. "But it's so cool! A lot cooler than Ashley. Besides, it's just like Pokémon!" 

Ashley fell silent a moment, for she really did like that show. "But Ash is a boy," was her argument. "I'm a girl!" 

In that moment this discussion upon the gender of Pokémon's young protagonist was dropped, as Danny brushed back the final branch and stood in place. "Here it is." 

Thereafter Ashley had arrived beside him, and found what "awesome something" her big brother had dragged her from their tent to see. A few feet away from them lay a rolling stream, tossing and turning over itself as it made its way through the wood. White froth flew from the surface and speckled mist upon its shores, by and by churning the soil into sickly mud. 

The siblings stared at the body of water from the treeline. "Do you know what this is?" Danny asked, now finally able to begin. 

Ashley didn't lend him her eyes. "It's a river," she said. 

The boy smiled. "Not just any river," he spoke. "Dad told me about this river. It's a cursed river." 

The girl's face went white, and Danny had to force himself not to laugh. 

"That's not funny, Danny," she whined. "I wanna go back." 

"Oh come on," he said. "You're not scared, are you?" 

"Yes I am. I wanna go back." 

Danny rolled his eyes; he forgot that line didn't work on her. "Suit yourself," he revised his plan. "You can stay there alone, then." With that he left their haven and strode to the shore, minding the slick mud. 

Ashley stayed put, but only for a few seconds. Danny knew what was happening. Her eyes glazed over, her jaw hung agape, and her mind slowly but surely convincing her body to nevermind her rational thinking, sacrificing one fear for the sake of the other. 

"Danny!" he heard over the crashing of rapids, and then found his little sister by his side. Everything was going smoothly. 

"You wanna hear a story, Ash?" he raised his voice.

She shook her head, but he payed no heed.

"Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, a couple went camping in these woods. Just like you, Dad, and I are. They found this very same river, and stood exactly where we're standing now." Danny felt a hand clutch onto his own. He remained composed, but her naivety was all too amusing. 

"The man thought it would be funny to play a prank on the woman," he continued. "And so he went up behind her, and before she could think, he pushed her in." He paused for effect, just to make this as cinematic as possible. "He laughed, and waited for her to get out, maybe pull him in too as a joke. But she never came up." 

Ashley whimpered, but he didn't wait. "He jumped in and searched for her, but he couldn't find her. Although it looked like she had sank in, the water only rose to his knees. The man was confused, and so so scared." 

The little girl tightened her hold on Danny's hand. "Stop it," she cried. "You're scaring me!" 

This time the boy allowed himself a chuckle or two, hiding his hilarity amongst the aqueous white noise. It was a fact: seven-year-olds will believe anything you tell them. Even he had once believed it, when his dad had sat him down every night after he had put Ashley to bed. He would spin him the greatest of tales, told with such passion that one might even come to hold them as fact. And a child, would most certainly take them as gospel. Whenever his dad relayed this particular story, one that he claimed his own father had once told him, and then his father before him just the same, and so on; Danny recalled its curtain-close, the very same every time: 

Mischief drives the curious one 

As far back as the first— 

Alas, the ruse played out in fun 

Will thus commence the curse. 

Even after nearly five years, the boy hadn't the foggiest idea why during every telling, his dad's eyes would look so shiny, or why he asked his son to always remember those words. Now, Danny was old enough to understand that it was only a campfire story. But Ashley was not. This was not the cursed river his dad spoke of; in fact, the river had never existed. But so far this camping trip had been quite dull, and this was the perfect opportunity to get a quick laugh in before he went to bed. 

And so Danny would commence. "People say that, if you ever find this river, you must stay away from it. You must resist the urge to walk to its edge, to look into it. Or else you face the wrath of the poor woman's spirit." Ashley buried her face into her brother's shirt, yet kept her hold onto his hand. "Because if you stand for too long, you might feel two hands on your shoulders." He rested his palms gently upon his sister's own, and he felt her go rigid.

This was it, the moment he had set up so meticulously. It was ready. 

"And PUSH YOU IN!" he shouted, in perfect sync with a sharp shove. Before Ashley could think she was on her way down, and shrieked like a kettle for only an instant, as she fell into the shallow stream. 

Danny planted his hands upon his knees and howled. It had all gone perfectly! What a prank! Ashley would not be allowed to forget this night, and how gullible she had been to believe such a stupid little story. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she got back up, the adorable little expression she made when she got angry. Her nose scrunched up and eyes nearly nonexistent, with a snarl as terrible as a lion cub's. 

And so he waited. 


Danny lifted his gaze from the muddy shoreline to the rapids, and found no furious little girl. 

His laughter surely subsided, and he rose from his knees. "Hey Ash!" he called. "Get up!" 

Even still he couldn't see her. The boy figured that she was hiding amidst the froth. 

"C'mon," he cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry, okay? It was just a joke." 


His smile fell. "Ashley?" 


His stomach churned. Danny advanced toward the river, and set a bare foot into its waters. 


He trudged on through the blows until he stood in between the shores. The current threatened to tip him, and didn't even meet with his waist. With care he bent over and waved his arms about it, hoping for his fingertips to brush against skin, hair, cloth, anything at all. After five minutes he had no luck. 

Danny suddenly felt sick. He screamed his little sister's name into the mist, to be met with no reply. His vision went hazy and his mind with it. His head whipped around and back and around again in desperation. About his skull rang the words, ricocheting against the walls like a lingering echo. He hated them. He hated them! For now he understood. 

Mischief drives the curious one 

As far back as the first—

Alas, the ruse played out in fun 

Will thus commence the curse. 

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