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Now that I've got your attention, let me redirect it to my crummy contest.

A disclaimer: I am not an editor, a god, or a special person of any kind. I didn't even get to ride the short bus to school. What I am is lazy and impatient.

Why this is important to you: I should have been born October 6, 1980. Instead I was born October 31, 1980. Lazy. And perhaps owing to the circumstances of my birth (but more likely to the date itself), I am perversely fascinated by stuff that is, well, perversely fascinating. Graverobbers, headless horsemen, chicks with their heads in bowling bags...let's just say it doesn't take much to impress me, especially this time of year.

So - partly as a birthday present to me, and mostly because we love E2 and want to fill it up with scariness, I put forth the following challenge. However, ToasterLeavings, my right-hand man, is down to bestow blessings on the winners I pick. dem_bones has offered to help judge, and has promised to murder the hell out of anything that sucks ass. ideath and I will also be judging.

The challenge then is to make this database as creepy as possible before 0 o'clock server time, Thursday, November 1, 2001. Node the scariest stories you know, and I will hardlink them here. These can be fabricated, based on personal experience, collected from folklore (with the proper attributions, of course), pre-copyright horror stories, or, if you're interested, factual pieces explicating your favorite urban legends (my favorite is the aforementioned poison Pixie sticks/razorblades-in-apples hoax; I wonder what's going around this year about Anthrax?). Histories of Halloween and related festivities (El Dia de Muerte, Samhain are of interest as well. Oh, and what about those anti-Halloweens some churches hold because Halloween is Satanic? And haunted propaganda houses extolling through graphic example the horrors of abortion and drunk driving? It goes on like this. If you've noded scary stuff in the past, it won't qualify for the contest (unless I get zero entries), but I'll hardlink it anyway for everybody's reading enjoyment.

You get the idea. This is a pretty broad category. All of us are overqualified to participate here. Once you've posted your node, please drop me a /msg. Prizes pending. Void in Antarctica, Canada, and all fifty U.S. states (oh yeah, Europe, the UK. and Asia too), but we're doing it anyway. Also, cut and paste writeups will die.

So far we have:

Not new, and therefore not qualifying, but shiver-worthy anyway:
snuff film by Vice hkpnx
Necronomicon by Cletus the Foetus
Life After the Guillotine? by cryokinetic
tiyanak and manananggal by flyingroc
knifegirls's scary, scary story - the whole damn node - here to inspire and baffle you What would Cthulu do? by Milen
blood drinking by ).stupidfawn.(
Wandering Soul by enth
The Black School by tallman
The Contents of Jeffrey Dahmer's Apartment by jonrc
appendix a by weasello
revenge is a dish best served cold by drumergrrl

Factuals:
scary stories to tell in the dark by moongirl
San Antonio Ghost Tracks by Riptor
Why you shouldn't let people suck on your neck when you're feeling ill by Skinwalker
Princess Doe by MizerieRose
Cenobites by tallman

Old School Shivers:
Poe's The Man of the Crowd, noded by Noung
Roald Dahl's Man fromt he South, noded by Spuunbenda

Sraight-up shit-your-pants tales
bleeding house by SueZVudu
Hey, man, nice mask by TheDeadGuy
Things Are Different Now by LaggedyAnne
Alfred by Sverre
learning a language by SharQ
Midnight paralysis by TotalRetard
Forgetting by Lucy-S
vivisection by Lucy-S
Leaving the Warlock by Lucy-S
Out of Season by Lucy-S
The calls are coming from inside the house! by mr100percent
Fraternities are not clubs by Qeyser
The Strange Visitor by Ereneta
Darkness must go down the river of night's dreaming by Demeter
Have I been brainwashed? by weasello
Devil's Bridge by tallman
Blood transfusion by Lucy-S
cadaveric spasm by Lucy-S
Nature of the Beast by Lucy-S
eight-ball hemorrhage by Lucy-S
The Still-Life Drama of Passing Cars by Lucy-S
A Preference for Silence by Lucy-S
Science and the Undead: Frog Dissection at Highland Junior High by Jet-Poop
haunted painting by Celtus the Foetus
Tales of MYSTERY and the UNEXPLAINED by WolfDaddy
A Friend in the Dark by The Colonel
brother by ToasterLeavings
I will show you fear in a fistful of ducks by WonkoDSane
Sleepless in Sumatra by Eco

This morning there was no radio, no backup, it was a one-man operation. A dark-clad figure walked briskly down a debris-covered street, exhaling a white trail behind him in the half light of a Monday morning in early September. He approached the driveway at the very end of the street as if he had only one purpose in life. His footsteps slowed as he stepped from bitumen to brick, and he glanced down at a plastic-wrapped cylinder at his feet. Excellent, he thought, so far so good.

The man slinked down the driveway, pausing at a green shed at the bottom. He had considered using bolt cutters for this, but they would make too much noise. The padlock on the shed was only a Yale, and withdrawing a snapped-off hacksaw blade from his pocket, he began to work on the tumblers. Ten minutes later, and the lock popped open, squeaking ever so slightly as he twisted the hasp free. The door ground open a foot, and the man glared at it as if he could somehow silence it with his wrath. The far wall of the shed was all he was interested in, for its shelves were stacked neatly with power tools. "Yes, you please," he muttered, picking up a chainsaw. After, checking the machine had fuel, he slipped back outside, securing the building as quietly as he had entered.

Chainsaw balanced triumphantly on his shoulder, the man moved silently down the front of the house, past the front door, and to the last window. He placed the chainsaw down under a shrub behind him, then turned back to the window. It was open, far enough for him to get in, but not far enough for his sinister companion. Of course, he could climb through, and open it further, but no, that was not part of the plan. After all, why damage a perfectly good fly screen? A curtain fluttered gently just the other side, and through it he could see nothing.

The world was quiet, but not silent. Birds happily exchanged their good mornings, and a diesel bus moaned in the distance, stopping for no one so early in the morning. An almost peaceful breathing emitted from just inside the room. The man's senses piqued as someone stirred at the other end of the house. He pressed himself against the wall of the house and waited. The front door was being opened. Again, there was no real reason to wait for this, seeing as he knew where the spare key was kept. A tall, balding man emerged, sporting brown dressing gown and slippers. The intruder remained motionless until the older man was level with the front of the house, heading up to collect his paper.

It was the work of a moment to snatch up the chainsaw, and bolt silently to the front door. The door operated noiselessly. With a single glance in the direction of the driveway to check that head of the house still had his back turned, the man disappeared inside. No one else was yet awake as far as he could tell. Immediately to his right was the door to the living room, and he passed through without a moment's hesitation. The fireplace raged beside him, burning his cheeks compared to what the temperature had been like outside. A large dog looked dopily up as if disturbed from sleep. They knew each other well, and not a sound passed between them. In the past he would have told the dog to get off the lounge where they knew they weren't supposed to be, but not today. Today, he didn't really care.

Two steps were all that was required to cross the threshold to yet another door. The handle turned easily, but the wood was jammed tightly in the frame. He pushed harder, hearing the father returning. The door swung open with a splintering crack, and he fell into the hallway. Picking himself up, he slammed the door shut again, catching it at the last minute to inch it the rest of the way. Vicious weapon still in hand, he tiptoed down the hall to the door to the room he had been standing outside a minute earlier. The sign he had put on it was still there, and he sneered as he read it.

He entered, closing the door behind him without a sound. A dark-coloured ball of fur rested on the foot of a bed just inside the door, and revealed itself to be a cat as the man took another step into the room. The cat raised its head to give him a look of incredulity, as if rather than to question his intentions, to say "You humans are a strange lot". The cat sat up, but refused to leave its spot on the bed, but the man ignored it. Occupying most of the rest of the bed was an amazing phenomenon.

A woman, still in her teens, lay sleeping, nestled between pillows. Her hair was tangled and tousled, and she wore no makeup and no bra. Her face was expressionless, the lips that had kissed him were barely touching each other. The man placed the chainsaw on the floor, and turned on the fuel tap. If she wanted physical attention so much, he would give it to her. He disengaged the kill switch, and looked back at the sleeping figure. Why had she pretended to love him? Come to think of it, when had she publicly announced it? She'd wrapped him around her finger, just like she must do to all the others. She claimed she had never lied to him, and yet she no longer considered anything she had ever said to him to need backing up.

She said she would rather be dead than not be his any more. Well, now was her chance. He placed a foot on the chainsaw, and gripped the pull-start. His eyes ignited as the engine burst into life. The woman on the bed stirred, but it was too late to care. He raised the saw above his head, and grated down at her, "I can make you howl. And vise versa. Let's get down to business."

She opened her eyes, and a terror-stricken look spread instantly over her face, but she did not scream. "What are you doing?" Apparently the answer to that wasn't completely obvious.

"I'm removing another menace from our streets." He spat the words through his teeth.

"Wait. I want to tell you something before you kill me."

He was sick of listening to her lies, but he obliged her. His whole body froze at her next sentence. But, the night she had been out with that other guy instead of him? The weeks she had refused to talk to him? The broken promises she pretended she didn't care about? His mind raced, and so did the saw. He couldn't think any more. The man lowered the rotating blades back towards himself, aimed directly at his own head. Suddenly the girl could see no more as her vision was blocked by a red splatter.



Due to concern raised around this writeup, I would like to clarify that yours truly has not harmed any other noders in the making of this writeup. Would I really use accurate details in something like this so someone else can carry it out?

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