Scary stories

TeddyTedson

A bit of an urban legend here but,
One quiet Sunday night after getting work holidays at a man took off from Dublin to Donegal on a little getaway break on his own.
After driving the back roads or 30 mins or so he realised he needed petrol and drove to the main roads again and in to a near by town.
When he reached the garage the fuel pump assistant who usually takes the money insisted that the man go into the garage to pay.
Angryil the man goes in to pay and begins to kick us a fuss when fuel assistant then tells the man, "Sir, I only insisted you pay in here because I wanted to tell you, there is a man crouched down in the back of your car, holding a blood stained knife" :eek:

Ficheall

TeddyTedson wrote: »

A bit of an urban legend here

What's the rest of it?

Simi

TeddyTedson wrote: »

A bit of an urban legend here but,
One quiet Sunday night after getting work holidays at a man took off from Dublin to Donegal on a little getaway break on his own.
After driving the back roads or 30 mins or so he realised he needed petrol and drove to the main roads again and in to a near by town.
When he reached the garage the fuel pump assistant who usually takes the money insisted that the man go into the garage to pay.
Angryil the man goes in to pay and begins to kick us a fuss when fuel assistant then tells the man, "Sir, I only insisted you pay in here because I wanted to tell you, there is a man crouched down in the back of your car, holding a blood stained knife" :eek:

That was the opening scene in the movie urban legend.

marty1985

And then he met Bono and and some other guy and got his picture taken and then his petrol was paid for and the guy was like "Mr Springsteen paid the bill." I've heard that one a million times.

girl2

I heard that a few times too. About different petrol stations. But apparently it really happened in Dungannon 24 hour one. And it was a rope he had. Not a knife. Ohhhhhh.

Nailz

That smiley at the end is quite funny actually, it's the face a naive child would make; therefore I like it.

hairyprincess

That's totally true! The man you speak of was my aunts husbands best friends cousins gay lovers father.

Small world eh

Quality

That happened my cousin, there was a man in the back of his car with a bloody knife.


My cousin was a taxi driver in limerick!

TeddyTedson

Another one is that someone received a PM on a internet forum from an unknown user telling them exactly who they were and everything they had done that day, and also telling them they had six hours to live:eek:

Nailz

What's up with that smiley?

kowloon

TeddyTedson wrote: »

A bit of an urban legend here but,
One quiet Sunday night after getting work holidays at a man took off from Dublin to Donegal on a little getaway break on his own.
After driving the back roads or 30 mins or so he realised he needed petrol and drove to the main roads again and in to a near by town.
When he reached the garage the fuel pump assistant who usually takes the money insisted that the man go into the garage to pay.
Angryil the man goes in to pay and begins to kick us a fuss when fuel assistant then tells the man, "Sir, I only insisted you pay in here because I wanted to tell you, there is a man crouched down in the back of your car, holding a blood stained knife" :eek:

That one's true! Seriously, it happened to the friend of a guy I know who knows about these things. :eek:

Edit: looks like someone got there before me, must be common.

Canis Lupus

Simi wrote: »

That was the opening scene in the movie urban legend.

Rubbish.. there was nothing in that movie about Donegal....

kjl

TeddyTedson wrote: »

A bit of an urban legend here but,
One quiet Sunday night after getting work holidays at a man took off from Dublin to Donegal on a little getaway break on his own.
After driving the back roads or 30 mins or so he realised he needed petrol and drove to the main roads again and in to a near by town.
When he reached the garage the fuel pump assistant who usually takes the money insisted that the man go into the garage to pay.
Angryil the man goes in to pay and begins to kick us a fuss when fuel assistant then tells the man, "Sir, I only insisted you pay in here because I wanted to tell you, there is a man crouched down in the back of your car, holding a blood stained knife" :eek:

holy crap, that is scary, there used to be fuel pump assistants

WoollyRedHat

One time, a long time ago, in a remote and lonely cottage, in Skibereen, lived a man , who was lonely and tired of the country life, which was rather terrifying to Al, who as a child was easily scared, and whose brothers would constantly terrify him, knowing how easily frightened he was.

It was a wet and windy December night, and Al, being the early riser that he was, went to bed at an early hour, so that he could rise early in the morning to feed the goats and the cows and all the rest. He got into his bed, with a nice waterbottle to keep him warm from the icy drafts which flew like a bird through the stone cottage. As Al was drifting off to sleep, he heard a noise. What was that noise, he wondered to himself, jumping up, rather terrified. He pricked his ears up gently, to see if he could catch it again, but nothing. Ah, it was an old cottage, thought Al to himself, and old cottages make weird noises, and he lay back down and tried to get back to sleep.

But then, the noise approached again, more menacing and more horrifying than before, and certainly something which made the hairs on Al's neck to stand up, as a bit of sweat rolled down his forehead. Jesus, I definetely heard that, what in the name of. But all was silent once again, Silent and he lay his head back on the pillow, but knew he would have trouble getting back to sleep, and he felt unease. And then, again, that piercing, meancing sound, possesed, tormented, menacing.

It was coming from the garden, that Al was sure of. After being paralysed by fear, he shook it off and said to himself, be brave Al, be brave. And so, he got up, but on his slippers and his warm but taggered trench coat, and walked towards the door and made way to the back door. The wind and rain were coming down like cannonballs onto enemy lines, thudding and bashing and truly wicked. He was more afraid than he ever could of been, but he had to find out what the sound was. He picked up a shovel, that lay eerily by the counter, and slowly creeped towards the back door. Then the scream, once more, it was cruciating, he put his hand over his ears, but there was no going back now, Al was in it now, and he had to follow this sound, as if he was in a state of trance.

He walked out into the bitter air, which he was scarcely ready for, as he got closer to that sound which could be waiting to kill him, Al didn't know, and he might have wished he stayed in his bed, or called for help. It was the shed. Jesus, the ****ing shed, Al thought, the door was ajar. It was never ajar, never ever ajar, until tonight, and there, the sound came from, more clear than ever, and Al's body stiffled and his heart felt like it had stopped beating. He put one foot in front of another, terrifed as he could only imagine what lay behind the door. He mindlessly put out his brittle hand as he pulled open the door. And there it was, his jaw dropped. ****ing hell it's just a ****ing sheep giving birth to a lamb, and he laughed and went back to bed.

mikom

TeddyTedson wrote: »

A bit of an urban legend here but,
One quiet Sunday night after getting work holidays at a man took off from Dublin to Donegal on a little getaway break on his own.
After driving the back roads or 30 mins or so he realised he needed petrol and drove to the main roads again and in to a near by town.
When he reached the garage the fuel pump assistant who usually takes the money insisted that the man go into the garage to pay.
Angryil the man goes in to pay and begins to kick us a fuss when fuel assistant then tells the man, "Sir, I only insisted you pay in here because I wanted to tell you, there is a man crouched down in the back of your car, holding a blood stained knife" :eek:

So the assistant charges him 2 Euro a litre, and the man drives away ranting to the killer in the back about "how this country is gone to fuck".

policarp

Tribunals. . .

Nailz

WoollyRedHat wrote: »

One time, a long time ago, in a remote and lonely cottage, in Skibereen, lived a man , who was lonely and tired of the country life, which was rather terrifying to Al, who as a child was easily scared, and whose brothers would constantly terrify him, knowing how easily frightened he was.

It was a wet and windy December night, and Al, being the early riser that he was, went to bed at an early hour, so that he could rise early in the morning to feed the goats and the cows and all the rest. He got into his bed, with a nice waterbottle to keep him warm from the icy drafts which flew like a bird through the stone cottage. As Al was drifting off to sleep, he heard a noise. What was that noise, he wondered to himself, jumping up, rather terrified. He pricked his ears up gently, to see if he could catch it again, but nothing. Ah, it was an old cottage, thought Al to himself, and old cottages make weird noises, and he lay back down and tried to get back to sleep.

But then, the noise approached again, more menacing and more horrifying than before, and certainly something which made the hairs on Al's neck to stand up, as a bit of sweat rolled down his forehead. Jesus, I definetely heard that, what in the name of. But all was silent once again, Silent and he lay his head back on the pillow, but knew he would have trouble getting back to sleep, and he felt unease. And then, again, that piercing, meancing sound, possesed, tormented, menacing.

It was coming from the garden, that Al was sure of. After being paralysed by fear, he shook it off and said to himself, be brave Al, be brave. And so, he got up, but on his slippers and his warm but taggered trench coat, and walked towards the door and made way to the back door. The wind and rain were coming down like cannonballs onto enemy lines, thudding and bashing and truly wicked. He was more afraid than he ever could of been, but he had to find out what the sound was. He picked up a shovel, that lay eerily by the counter, and slowly creeped towards the back door. Then the scream, once more, it was cruciating, he put his hand over his ears, but there was no going back now, Al was in it now, and he had to follow this sound, as if he was in a state of trance.

He walked out into the bitter air, which he was scarcely ready for, as he got closer to that sound which could be waiting to kill him, Al didn't know, and he might have wished he stayed in his bed, or called for help. It was the shed. Jesus, the ****ing shed, Al thought, the door was ajar. It was never ajar, never ever ajar, until tonight, and there, the sound came from, more clear than ever, and Al's body stiffled and his heart felt like it had stopped beating. He put one foot in front of another, terrifed as he could only imagine what lay behind the door. He mindlessly put out his brittle hand as he pulled open the door. And there it was, his jaw dropped. ****ing hell it's just a ****ing sheep giving birth to a lamb, and he laughed and went back to bed.

:eek:

policarp

mikom wrote: »

So the assistant charges him 2 Euro a litre, and the man drives away ranting to the killer in the back about "how this country is gone to fuck".

Lubely jubely. . .

Brendog

The last person on earth sits at home.

There is a knock at the door....

Doc Ruby

TeddyTedson wrote: »

Another one is that someone received a PM on a internet forum from an unknown user telling them exactly who they were and everything they had done that day, and also telling them they had six hours to live:eek:

See this is why its a bad idea to get married.

Seriously though, there are places on this earth you really shouldn't go.

policarp

Doc Ruby wrote: »

See this is why its a bad idea to get married.

Seriously though, there are places on this earth you really shouldn't go.

That hospital in Dundalk would be one, I would say. . .

LH Pathe

I once got lured into woods by a mysterious light, masquerading as a campfire. Which wasn't actually there once I reached it.. Uponst whichest a lethargy had come over me, and my limbs had become heavy I could not leave.. and so slept the few hours til dawn

My surname means woods in irish.. Spooky.

Adyx

I nearly shat muself when I first heard this it's so scary. :eek:

So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is “wut r u doing wit my daughter?” U tell ur girl n she say “my dad is ded”. THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

thebullkf

mikom wrote: »

So the assistant charges him 2 Euro a litre, and the man drives away ranting to the killer in the back about "how this country is gone to fuck".

i logged in just to thank this.... burst me shoite laughing...!!!:D:D:D:D