The Book Of Horror >:D
written by Яӑӯᦊэп ᘉ
an other quaint little horror story, this is thanks to Adam Gabriel for asking for another one i know i know i know i'm confused too but anyway this is a big book that will continue on as random lil stories for each chapter :D
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
10
Reads
622
“Instant Messaging”
Chapter 4
It all started on the 14th night of march, the night of my parents’ 20th wedding anniversary.
It was a wonderful, sunny day, if memory serves. Surprisingly warm for before the beginning of spring. The beautiful weather was perfect for the atmosphere of the day—being married for twenty years is obviously a momentous occasion, so my parents had booked a table at our favorite Italian restaurant.
Of course, this was a formal occasion, so I had my best suit on. It was 5:33, and I was just straightening my tie when my phone went off—I’d received a message. That’s strange, I thought, that never happens. I checked the message: It was from my mum. It was quite a jumble of numbers and letters, but through the vocabulary stew I could make out the legible phrase: “Please help me.” It should go without saying that this worried me greatly, so I immediately replied, “Are you okay?” Just as instantly, I got another text which read, “Oops. Pocket text!” I signed with all the relief I had and continued to prepare myself.
A few minutes later, I received yet another message, this time from my dad. I checked the text, and once again it was a massive mixture of letters and numbers, with the phrase, “Please help me” concealed within. Creepy though this was, my dad was always a joker, so I presumed he was just joking around, until I was sent another text saying, “Oops. Pocket text!” Now this sparked panic. Pure, unmistakable panic. Exactly half a minute passed when I received the exact same message from my sister. This could not be coincidental. It just couldn’t.
In a state of sheer anxiety, I started to run to the restaurant. I made it about a quarter of the way before I was stopped by a police officer. “Main road’s closed,” he said, “Huge car crash.” This was the exact moment I realized just what had happened. I demanded to see the wreckage, a request I’m surprised was allowed. When I got there, it wasn’t the remnants of the car that caught my eye, not the flames billowing from the destroyed vehicle. No, I was horrified to see the lifeless corpses of my mother, father and sister. I asked for the estimated time of their deaths—all three of them were killed instantly by the collision at 5:32.
It was a wonderful, sunny day, if memory serves. Surprisingly warm for before the beginning of spring. The beautiful weather was perfect for the atmosphere of the day—being married for twenty years is obviously a momentous occasion, so my parents had booked a table at our favorite Italian restaurant.
Of course, this was a formal occasion, so I had my best suit on. It was 5:33, and I was just straightening my tie when my phone went off—I’d received a message. That’s strange, I thought, that never happens. I checked the message: It was from my mum. It was quite a jumble of numbers and letters, but through the vocabulary stew I could make out the legible phrase: “Please help me.” It should go without saying that this worried me greatly, so I immediately replied, “Are you okay?” Just as instantly, I got another text which read, “Oops. Pocket text!” I signed with all the relief I had and continued to prepare myself.
A few minutes later, I received yet another message, this time from my dad. I checked the text, and once again it was a massive mixture of letters and numbers, with the phrase, “Please help me” concealed within. Creepy though this was, my dad was always a joker, so I presumed he was just joking around, until I was sent another text saying, “Oops. Pocket text!” Now this sparked panic. Pure, unmistakable panic. Exactly half a minute passed when I received the exact same message from my sister. This could not be coincidental. It just couldn’t.
In a state of sheer anxiety, I started to run to the restaurant. I made it about a quarter of the way before I was stopped by a police officer. “Main road’s closed,” he said, “Huge car crash.” This was the exact moment I realized just what had happened. I demanded to see the wreckage, a request I’m surprised was allowed. When I got there, it wasn’t the remnants of the car that caught my eye, not the flames billowing from the destroyed vehicle. No, I was horrified to see the lifeless corpses of my mother, father and sister. I asked for the estimated time of their deaths—all three of them were killed instantly by the collision at 5:32.
