Scary stories (scary for kids... Scarier for adults)
It all started last Saturday. It was a day like any other. My mother announced that she was going shopping, leaving me at home to take care of my little brother.
I was in the kitchen, browsing the internet on my laptop and my brother was in the living room, playing with his toys. I listened to my brother jumping around, squealing and laughing.
Suddenly, I noticed that everything was strangely quiet. I thought my brother must have fallen asleep, but when I went into the living room to check on him, I found him on the couch, sitting perfectly still. His eyes were fixed on the TV.
“What are you watching?” I asked.
Without taking his eyes off the TV, he replied, “Elmo.”
Everything seemed normal. Or so I thought...
When theme music finished, Elmo came out from behind a curtain and said, “Ha Ha Ha, thanks for coming to see my show, you stupid morons!”
That struck me as a weird thing for Elmo to say, since it was supposed to be a program for children. Then, a chill went down my spine as the small red puppet let out an eerie and macabre laugh.
“Elmo hopes you have fun because it may be the last time… Ha Ha Ha… Don’t turn off the TV or you will pay dearly… Elmo doesn’t like boys and girls who turn off the TV… Turning off the TV is BAD!”
“Yes Elmo,” my brother said in a monotonous voice. He was talking to the TV.
“Remember what Elmo told you last time… Ha Ha Ha… Elmo has a new talking doll coming out… It will be in shops on Saturday… Your parents need to buy you a talking Elmo doll… Ha Ha Ha…”
“I know, Elmo." Was the reply.
“You know what happens to parents who don’t buy Elmo’s products…” Elmo came closer to the camera until his face filled the entire screen. In a shrill voice, he screamed “Elmo knows where you live!”
I was about to turn off the television, when the puppet said something else: It seemed as if he was talking directly to me.
“Ah Ah Ah!” he shouted. “Someone is being very naughty! You know what Elmo does to naughty people!”
Elmo took out a big sharp knife and waved it around, stabbing at the air.
“Just remember… ELMO KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE!” he screeched.
It gave me such a fright, I panicked and turned off the TV.
"ELMO KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE!" My little brother glared at me and, without saying another word, he got up and left the room.
That evening, he began pestering my parents to buy him a talking Elmo doll. At first they refused, but minute after minute he persisted. By Saturday, he had worn them down and they agreed to take him to the mall to buy the toy he wanted. I went with them.
When we arrived at the toy store, it was 11 AM and there was a huge queue outside. It seemed like everyone in town wanted a talking Elmo doll. My little brother was shaking with excitement.
After waiting in the queue for more than two hours, the manager finally came out and told us they were sold out of Elmo dolls. Everyone began to panic until the manager said there was one doll left and he was going to hold a raffle to see who would be allowed to buy it.
He held up a big glass jar filled with pieces of paper and went through the crowd handing them out. When he came to my brother, he said, “Grab a ticket and we’ll see if you win.” My brother reached in and pulled out a piece of paper. I looked at the number on the ticket. It was 666.
Soon, it was time for the big draw and the crowd were getting impatient. Everybody was pushing and shoving. The manager shouted, “AND THE WINNER IS... NUMBER 666!”
“HERE, HERE! I HAVE IT!” cried my little brother.
My father grabbed the doll, handed over the money and we ran to the car. The crowd were eyeing us angrily. It looked as if they were thinking about attacking us and stealing the doll.
On the way home, my brother had a huge smile on his face. He kept pulling the cord on the doll and making it talk.
“Elmo loves you,” said the doll in a high-pitched voice.
“I love you too, Elmo,” my brother replied adoringly.
That night, my brother went to sleep with Elmo. At around 3 in the morning, I suddenly woke up. I heard a sound and peered into the darkness.
Elmo was sitting in a chair opposite my bed.
I let out a scream which woke my parents. They came running into my bedroom, switched on the lights and asked me what was wrong. I pointed at the doll. My father asked if I had put it here.
“Of course not,” I told him.
“Then how did it get there?” my dad asked.
“Maybe it’s alive,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be stupid,” my dad replied, giving me a withering look before he went back to bed.
I grabbed the Elmo doll and put it back in my brother’s room. Then, I tried to get some sleep.
At dawn, I heard a blood-curdling scream. It came from my parents’ room. Apparently, my dad had woken up to find the Elmo doll sitting on his chest. It was holding a knife.
“What do you want to do with it?” he asked.
“We have to throw it away,” I said.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said my dad. “Let’s burn it.”
That was fine with me. When my little brother found out what we were planning to do, he began screaming and crying. My dad wrenched the doll from his grip and we left.
My brother stood at the front door, screaming, “No! Don’t kill Elmo!”
We decided to burn the doll in a field. It was on a hill, around 8 miles from our house. My dad threw Elmo in the ditch and emptied a can of gasoline over him. Then, he lit a match and threw it. The doll went up in a huge fireball.
My father got back into the car and shut the door. Just as he started the engine, we heard a loud scream and to my horror, I saw Elmo leap out of the ditch. The charred doll was running around in circles in a ball of flames. Suddenly, it jumped onto our winshield and began beating on the glass and screeching at us. My dad floored the accelerator and we sped off down the road.
Elmo was hanging onto the windshield wipers. His whole body was on fire, but his eyes seemed to be burning with hatred. My dad switched on the windshield wipers and the doll was thrown off the car.
As we drove off, we heard a shrill voice in the distance screaming, “ELMO KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE!!!!”