oldsan

[oldsan]

KRIPTA

My horror stories. A small tribute to the best horror comic book magazine that has ever circulated in Brazil.

THE WITCH

Once upon a time, in a small village, an evil witch lived in a cabin in the woods. She had a magical cauldron that gave her powers, but also required a special ingredient: human flesh. The witch especially liked children, as they were more tender and tastier.

The witch had a trick to attract children to her hut: she used sweets and toys as bait. She would place the candy and toys on a path leading to her door, and hope that some curious child would follow them. When the child arrived at the hut, the witch captured him and threw him into the cauldron, where she cooked him into a horrible stew. Many, many children had already lost their lives like that, because the witch was very old. In general, children who did not pay attention to their parents' warnings about the dangers of the forest.

One day, on a very pleasant summer afternoon, two brothers, Hansel and Gretel, were playing in the forest, when they saw sweets and toys on the trail. They were excited and decided to catch them, not knowing the danger that awaited them. They followed the trail to the witch's hut, and knocked on the door.

- Who is it? - asked the witch, in a sweet voice.

- We are Hansel and Gretel, we came to look for the sweets and toys you left in the forest - the brothers replied, innocently.

- Oh, that's good, come in, come in, I have more sweets and toys for you - said the witch, opening the door and smiling falsely.

The brothers entered the cabin, and were amazed at the amount of sweets and toys inside. They began to eat and play, not realizing that the witch was approaching them from behind, with a knife in her hand.

- Now I'm going to take you, my dears, and make a delicious stew - said the witch, raising the knife.

But before she could attack, Hansel and Gretel turned around and saw the witch. They were terrified and ran to the door, but it was locked. They looked for another way out, but found none. They were trapped in the witch's hut.

- Help, help, someone help us! - shouted the brothers, desperate.

Luckily, a woodcutter who was passing through the forest heard the children's screams. He recognized the voices of Hansel and Gretel, as they were his neighbors. He ran to the witch's hut, and broke down the door with his axe.

- João, Maria, what are you doing here? - asked the woodcutter, surprised.

- This woman is a witch, she wants to kill us and cook us in her cauldron - the brothers explained, pointing to the witch, who was furious.

- A witch? This is terrible, let's get out of here - said the woodcutter, taking the children by the hand and leading them out of the hut.

The witch tried to prevent them from escaping, and she was very strong, even more than the woodcutter. But the woodcutter hit her with his axe, and she fell to the ground, dead. The woodcutter knew there was only one way to ensure that this abomination would not come back to life. Going to where the boiler was, he kicked the burning branches towards a window whose curtains began to burst into flames. So, the woodcutter and the children fled to the forest, and returned to the village, where they told everyone what had happened. The villagers were shocked and grateful, and threw a party to celebrate Hansel and Gretel's salvation.

`

[oldsan]

KRIPTA

My horror stories. A small tribute to the best horror comic book magazine that has ever circulated in Brazil.

THE WITCH

Once upon a time, in a small village, an evil witch lived in a cabin in the woods. She had a magical cauldron that gave her powers, but also required a special ingredient: human flesh. The witch especially liked children, as they were more tender and tastier.

The witch had a trick to attract children to her hut: she used sweets and toys as bait. She would place the candy and toys on a path leading to her door, and hope that some curious child would follow them. When the child arrived at the hut, the witch captured him and threw him into the cauldron, where she cooked him into a horrible stew. Many, many children had already lost their lives like that, because the witch was very old. In general, children who did not pay attention to their parents' warnings about the dangers of the forest.

One day, on a very pleasant summer afternoon, two brothers, Hansel and Gretel, were playing in the forest, when they saw sweets and toys on the trail. They were excited and decided to catch them, not knowing the danger that awaited them. They followed the trail to the witch's hut, and knocked on the door.

- Who is it? - asked the witch, in a sweet voice.

- We are Hansel and Gretel, we came to look for the sweets and toys you left in the forest - the brothers replied, innocently.

- Oh, that's good, come in, come in, I have more sweets and toys for you - said the witch, opening the door and smiling falsely.

The brothers entered the cabin, and were amazed at the amount of sweets and toys inside. They began to eat and play, not realizing that the witch was approaching them from behind, with a knife in her hand.

- Now I'm going to take you, my dears, and make a delicious stew - said the witch, raising the knife.

But before she could attack, Hansel and Gretel turned around and saw the witch. They were terrified and ran to the door, but it was locked. They looked for another way out, but found none. They were trapped in the witch's hut.

- Help, help, someone help us! - shouted the brothers, desperate.

Luckily, a woodcutter who was passing through the forest heard the children's screams. He recognized the voices of Hansel and Gretel, as they were his neighbors. He ran to the witch's hut, and broke down the door with his axe.

- João, Maria, what are you doing here? - asked the woodcutter, surprised.

- This woman is a witch, she wants to kill us and cook us in her cauldron - the brothers explained, pointing to the witch, who was furious.

- A witch? This is terrible, let's get out of here - said the woodcutter, taking the children by the hand and leading them out of the hut.

The witch tried to prevent them from escaping, and she was very strong, even more than the woodcutter. But the woodcutter hit her with his axe, and she fell to the ground, dead. The woodcutter knew there was only one way to ensure that this abomination would not come back to life. Going to where the boiler was, he kicked the burning branches towards a window whose curtains began to burst into flames. So, the woodcutter and the children fled to the forest, and returned to the village, where they told everyone what had happened. The villagers were shocked and grateful, and threw a party to celebrate Hansel and Gretel's salvation.

`

[oldsan]

Write a horror story in the format of an Internet search history

[oldsan]

i miss her everyday

[oldsan]

The werewolf

"Hi, my name is Ismael, and I write these lines because I need to tell someone my story. Not that I expect you to believe me, but I'm going to end up going crazy if I keep keeping this to myself.

What I am going to narrate happened many years ago, in my youth, around 1977, almost at the end of the year. I had just completed my twentieth birthday and still lived on my father's farm on the outskirts of Ponta Grossa, Paraná. And also my uncle Erminio, who lived in Europe and whom we hadn't seen for many years, came to visit us. That night I remember going out with my Old Man's Rural Willis, despite my father's pleas that I remain at home. He said that that was not a good week to do what he knew I wanted. Even my uncle, whom I barely knew, tried to dissuade me from my plans. That the best thing I could do was watch the Internacional game on television with my father. But I was stubborn as a mule and ended up going anyway. I took Rural and went to Ponta Grossa, to a whorehouse I knew, to spend some time with a certain woman whose name I don't even remember now. When I finally decided to head home, it was after midnight, and a large full moon dominated the starry sky.

Then, when I was a few kilometers from the farm, I heard the howl. Not just any howl, but a sound that seemed to contain all the evil in this world. And I realized that I should have stayed home that night.

And suddenly the thing was standing there in the middle of the dirt road that led to the farmhouse. There it was, illuminated by the lights of Rural Willis, a huge animal, covered all over with black fur, its muzzle grinned in a hideous animalistic fang grin, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

I stood there not knowing what to do, staring at the werewolf, until the thing advanced on the Rural and started tearing it apart, and all that crossed my mind was that I was going to die.

It was when there was nothing left between me and the beast that I felt myself being pulled by an inhuman force and I was thrown through the air, landing on the ground about four meters away from the car. I immediately felt something slimy and stinky running down my face, and I understood that it was the werewolf's nanny who was already on top of me, ready to tear my flesh apart.

Then came the shots. So many, so many that I don't even know for sure. And under the light of the full moon and the headlights of the farm's jeeps, the werewolf fell. And to my surprise, before my eyes it began to transform back into its human form. The face looking at me with its lifeless eyes was my uncle's face. That's when I found out that the nightmare wouldn't end there. My father bent down and in tears began to cry for his brother. And he blamed me for my uncle's death. Because if I wasn't so stubborn, none of this would have happened. My uncle would have spent the night in the wilderness without causing any harm to anyone in the family and would have left the next day.

Today my father is already dead. In all the years since that night, my old man never spoke to me again. AND THE REMEMBER AND GUILT HAS DOUGHTED ME every hour of every day since."

LOBISOMEM

"Oi, me chamo Ismael, e escrevo essas linhas porque tenho necessidade de contar minha história a alguém. Não que eu espere que voce vá acreditar, mas vou acabar enlouquecendo se continuar guardando isso só pra mim.

O que vou narrar aconteceu a muitos anos, em minha juventude, la pelos idos de 1977, quase no finalzinho do ano. Eu tinha recém completado meu vigésimo aniversário e ainda morava na fazenda do meu pai nos arredores de Ponta Grossa, no Paraná. E também meu tio Erminio, que morava na Europa e que a muitos anos não víamos viera nos visitar. Naquela noite lembro de ter saído com a Rural Willis do meu Velho, apesar das suplicas do meu pai para que eu permanecesse em casa. Dizia ele que aquela não era uma boa semana pra fazer aquilo que elê sabia que eu queria. Até mesmo meu tio, que eu mau conhecia, tentou dissuadir-me de meus planos. Que o melhor que eu fazia era acompanhar com meu pai ao jogo do Internacional pela televisão . Mas eu era teimoso como uma mula e acabei indo de qualquer jeito. Peguei a Rural e fui pra Ponta Grossa, pra um puteiro que eu conhecia, pra passar um tempo com uma determinada mulher de que hoje já nem me lembro o nome. Quando finalmente resolvi tomar o rumo de minha casa, já passava da meia noite, e uma grande lua cheia dominava o céu estrelado.

Então, quando estava a alguns quilômetros da fazenda, escutei o uivo. Não um uivo qualquer, mas um som que parecia encerrar toda a maldade existente nesse mundo. E eu compreendi que deveria ter ficado em casa naquela noite.

E de repente a coisa estava lá parada no meio da estradinha de chão que levava até a casa da fazenda. Estava ali, iluminada pelas luzes da Rural Willis, um bicho enorme, todo coberto por pelos negros, o focinho arreganhado em um horrendo sorriso de presas animalescas e eu não precisei ser nenhum gênio pra saber o que era.

Fiquei ali sem saber o que fazer, fitando o lobisomem, até que a coisa avançou sobre a Rural e começou a destroça-la, e tudo que me passava pela cabeça é que eu ia morrer.

Foi quando não havia mais nada entre eu e a fera que eu me senti puxado por uma força inumana e fui atirado pelo ar, indo cair no chão a uns quatro metros de distância do carro. Imediatamente senti algo viscoso e fedorento escorrendo pela minha face, e compreendi que era a babá do lobisomem que já estava sobre mim, pronto para dilacerar-me a carne.

Então vieram os tiros. Muitos, tantos que nem sei ao certo. E sob a luz da lua cheia e dos faróis dos jipes da fazenda, o lobisomem tombou. E para minha surpresa, diante de meus olhos começou a transformar-se novamente em sua forma humana. A face que me olhava com seus olhos sem vida era a face de meu tio. Foi quando eu descobri que o pesadelo não terminaria ali. Meu pai abaixou-se e aos prantos começou a chorar pelo irmão. E me culpou pela morte de meu tio. Porque se eu não fosse tão teimoso, nada daquilo teria acontecido. Meu tio teria passado a noite nos ermos, sem causar mau a ninguém da família e teria ido embora no dia seguinte.

Hoje meu pai já é morto. Durante todos os anos que transcorreram desde aquela noite meu velho nunca mais me dirigiu a palavra. E A LEMBRANÇA E A CULPA TEM ME PERSEGUIDO por cada hora de cada dia desde então."