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    They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith
    They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith
    They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith
    Ebook124 pages1 hour

    They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith

    By O. Penn-Coughin

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    About this ebook

    In the tradition of "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" by Alvin Schwartz, "They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith" is a chilling collection of more than 50 short and shriveled scary stories sure to leave you screaming for more. Or just screaming. This macabre mix of howls, humor, and horror is a must have for anyone who loves to be scared. But take the warning seriously... This book is NOT for wimps!

    Listen to O. Penn-Coughin read his stories on THE SCARY STORY PODCAST wherever free podcasts are found.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherYou Come Too Publishing
    Release dateApr 15, 2011
    ISBN9781458165770
    They're Coming For You 4: Scary Stories that Scream to be Read... Forthwith
    Author

    O. Penn-Coughin

    O. Penn-Coughin ("open coffin") is the ghoulishly gifted author of the spine-chilling series WELCOME TO HELL and THEY'RE COMING FOR YOU: SCARY STORIES THAT SCREAM TO BE READ.Listen to his stories on THE SCARY STORY PODCAST.

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      Book preview

      They're Coming For You 4 - O. Penn-Coughin

      Van Full of Clowns

      Clowns! the shouts rang out. Run! The clowns are coming!

      Some said the van was white. Others said it was black.

      But the stories agreed on one point: evil clowns were on the loose, looking to do who knows what. Up to no good, you could bet your best Carl Yastrzemski card on that.

      The sightings first began in the winter of ’81.

      By early spring, every kid with any sense was spooked out of his mind. Man, even most of the senseless ones were jumpy.

      Descriptions were vague. The ones who had been lucky enough to get away had a hard time saying exactly what the clowns looked like.

      Were the clowns real or just evil doers in circus drag? Was there just one van or a whole fleet of ‘em? Questions, rumors, facts, and fear bled together and poured into our dreams.

      No matter how much the teacher said so-and-so had moved away, we knew the truth: the clowns had gotten another one. A van full of clowns was seen at the corner of 3rd and Dawson. In the parking lot of Morningwood Park. In front of the school.

      The clowns had chased little Jimmy O’Brien down his block. That’s why he fell and cracked his skull on the icy sidewalk that day in April. I don’t know for a fact if that’s how it happened. All I can tell you is Jimmy was never the same after that.

      Some of the older kids would joke about it.

      Run! The Clowns are coming! they’d scream at the younger kids.

      They’ll get you and blow you up like a balloon.

      Yeah, they’ll twist you into a balloon animal till you explode.

      Sometimes they would inflate their empty lunch bags and sneak up behind someone and pop them.

      [Clap hands loudly.]

      Clowns got another one! they would shout.

      More than one kid needed to change his underwear after that. They’d run to the office, crying, trying to hold in what had already leaked out.

      Run! The Clowns are coming! Ha, ha, ha, haaa!

      But even the older kids were scared, I think.

      The cops said there was nothing to worry about. Just another case of mass hysteria.

      Maybe the whole thing was made up by parents trying to get their children to make it home on time, to listen, to behave. The usual stuff. Maybe it was just another variation on the old boogey man stories. Fooled again. Could be.

      But I think it was real.

      I never actually saw the clowns myself, and I can’t prove it, but I know they got me, I mean Mikey, my best friend.

      One day walking home from school he saw an old white van pull up in front of his house. Someone got out and ran inside. Mikey was too far away to tell who it was. The van took off down the street.

      When Mikey walked in, he found his stepfather. He came out of the bathroom, breathing hard.

      Hey, sport, he said.

      His hair was sweaty and pasted to his forehead. He had a few traces of what looked to be white makeup on his face.

      Mikey must have gone pale then.

      What’s wrong, sport?

      Mikey looked down.

      His stepfather was still wearing the big floppy red shoes.

      He could tell that Mikey had seen them.

      I’m sorry you had to find out about this, Mikey, he said, coming toward him. You’re a good boy. I’m real sorry.

      The shoes closed in. Closer and closer they came.

      No one ever saw Mikey again.

      Until now…

      [Hum some circus music.]

      AAAAH!!!

      Lazy Bones

      He never had much energy when he was alive.

      Now that he was dead…

      [Yawn and stretch.]

      Forget about it.

      Chindi

      That old woman is half-blind, Blake said. You distract her and I’ll take that cigar box where she keeps her money.

      The old wrinkled woman was sitting behind a blanket covered with turquoise and silver jewelry. Russell walked up to her.

      "Ya'at'eeh, grandmother, he said. How’s business?"

      Today has been a good day, she said.

      Blake came around behind her and picked up the cigar box. Some of the coins inside clinked together.

      The old woman didn’t seem to hear.

      "Hágoónee', Russell said, walking back to the car. Goodbye."

      Blake got behind the wheel and hit the gas, sending dirt and gravel flying.

      Candy from a baby, bro, he said, throwing the box on the seat between them.

      A few miles up the highway they turned off on to a dirt road. Blake parked the car behind a large boulder.

      Let’s go over there and see how we did, he said pointing to an old hogan.

      All right, Russell said.

      They walked over the slickrock and soon reached the structure. It appeared to be abandoned.

      Blake went inside. Russell hesitated for a moment and then followed.

      The small hogan was filled with furniture and personal belongings as if someone still lived there—except that a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covered everything.

      Why is all this stuff still here? Blake said.

      The owner probably died here, Russell said. "My people believe the chindi, the dead person’s ghost, still haunts the place where someone dies."

      Your people believe a lot of weird stuff, Blake said.

      I suppose so, Russell said.

      Blake opened the cigar box. He emptied the contents

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