Short Creepy Stories

My Uncle Killed Someone When He Was Younger

As you can guess, this isn't my story. It was told to me through sips of whiskey and packed cigars. I can't vouch for the exact details, but I'll try to tell the story as it was told to me.

My uncle grew up in the 60s and 70s in a house full of kids and with a friend group consisting of stoners and underage drinkers. He was close with almost all of them except for a guy we'll call Dan. My uncle and Dan never got along well. Apparently, Dan had dated my aunt and broken her heart.

One day, the group went camping in the old woods across town. The trek was arduous. There were lots of fallen trees, low-hanging branches to duck under, and a narrow river they needed to find a way around. My uncle was the one leading them to their campsite, an out-of-place clearing that almost looked purposeful. When retelling this story, he said they had been complaining all the way there but became practically awe-struck at the sight.

The clearing was more of a meadow. Beautiful flowers and tall, luscious trees formed a large ring around them as they unloaded their packs. It took them until dusk to fully set up their camp for the next three days.

The group huddled around a campfire as night fell, telling stories and reminiscing about childhood long into the night. Someone had snuck some whiskey into their pack and was passing it around to everyone. There was when my uncle heard the tale about a cave nearby.

The story talks about a group of kids who went hiking in the mountains, only for one of them to return. Shellshocked and traumatized, the kid was never able to tell the police exactly where to find his two friends.

A hush fell over the group, and unease spread. Something about that story unsettled even my uncle, a known skeptic. The group called an early night and turned in for restless sleep. My uncle had a dream that night.

In his dream, he was the young child from the story.

He was trekking up a steep incline, followed by two of his friends, Susan and Fred. It had just rained, and the mud was slippery under their boots. He looked back at the two following his lead and said something inaudible as a flash of lightning crashed nearby. Soon, booming thunder shook the very ground they walked on.

The three marched onward as dark clouds loomed overhead, threatening to unleash a mighty downpour. After what felt like hours of walking in place, the earth leveled out as they reached a small clearing. The three children stood facing the mouth of a cave, and when they peeked inside, a sharp drop-off beckoned them closer. Susan grabbed my uncle by the arm, but her voice was drowned as another flash of lightning was followed by more roaring thunder.

The darkness urged my uncle ever closer. Arm-like tendrils reached for him out of the darkness as he took another step toward the cliff edge. He could hear whispers from the pit. The voices yearned incessantly for a sacrifice.

My uncle awoke from his nightmare with sweat rolling down his back and labored breathing. The sun had yet to rise, and all that was heard was the gentle snoring from his friends in the neighboring tents. Deciding he needed a breather, my uncle crawled out of his tent and into the warm night air, admiring the stars that were clearer and brighter than he'd ever seen—like tiny, far-away flashlights in the sky.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Said a soft voice beside him, snapping him from his thoughts as he turned to face Susan, "I've never seen the stars this bright."

"Yeah, they're really somethin' else." He smiled at Susan.

"What'd you think of that story?" She said abruptly, turning to my uncle with a curious gaze.

"The one about the kids?" he asked. He had almost forgotten the story and the dream that followed.

"Dan always has good stories, doesn't he?"