I Hosted A Late Night Radio Show In College And I Received Some Creepy And Bizarre Phone Calls That Continue To Haunt Me Today

Kate woke up screaming and then quickly covered her mouth, worried that she’d woken up her dad again. A pale beam of moonlight seeped in from the dilapidated ceiling above her, revealing the peeling graffiti-covered wall to her left. It was then Kate realized that she wasn’t in her room.

She quickly leapt from the ragged dust-filmed bed her unconscious friends were still lying in and started to shake them awake. Johanna groaned at her and opened one eye as she said, “…Oh man, I was just having the weirdest dream.”

“That something was following us through my neighborhood?”

Johanna furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Yeah…”

“That wasn’t a dream,” Kate said and frantically gestured around the room. “Look!”

Before Johanna could even begin to take in her surroundings Becky abruptly woke and bolted out from under the covers, jumping to her feet as she screamed, “OH MY GOD! I think there’s a spider in your bed!”

Johanna jumped out of the bed as well and Becky threw back the dusty comforter to reveal a human hand blindly feeling around the mattress. The hand was attached to a pale emaciated arm that was reaching up from beneath the foot of the bed. The girls screamed in unison and the arm quickly retracted.

A moment later, Margo Ellis craned her withered elongated neck out from below the bed and whispered, “Where are you going? If he catches you trying to leave you know what he’ll do, don’t you?”

Something rustled inside a cedar chest against the wall to their left and the three girls ran for the door as Margo disappeared back beneath the bed while laughing. “You know what he’ll do!”

The lid of the cedar chest flew open as Kate reached for the doorknob and she reflexively glanced back. It was pretty dark but she was able to glimpse a large contorted figure crawling out of the chest as Kate yanked open the door and the girls sprinted out into the second-floor hallway of the Ellis House.

They could hear the thing that must have once been Gregory chasing after them, his mangled frame emitting a wet cracking sound with each jerking movement. The three girls hurried down the moonlit corridor and then over to a winding flight of stairs which led to the house’s ground floor. Becky was first down the stairs and she darted over to the large front door and pulled on the knob, but it didn’t budge. “The door’s locked!”

About the author

Joel Farrelly

When Joel isn’t writing creepy-ass short stories, he can be found scripting and acting in subversive comedy sketches on YouTube. You can follow Joel on Twitter or support him on Patreon, if you’re into that.

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