One evening, deep in the North Yorkshire Moors, Lucy had just turned up for her regular job baby-sitting two young children. She had arrived at around 5pm, made supper, played with the children and help finish off some homework before putting them to bed at 8pm. As usual, the parents weren’t expected home until very late. As the dark winter evening drew in and the lights flickered across the village green she had settled down in front of the television when the phone rang.
‘There was a man on the other end of the line. ‘At midnight’, the voice said, ‘I am going to come and kill you’. Lucy immediately hung up and, shaken, phoned her family and boyfriend and who reassured her it was probably a random crank call. Settling back down again she forgot all about the call until the phone rang again. Expecting it to be her family checking on her, she answered immediately.
‘Hello again’ said the voice. ‘It is getting closer now and at midnight I am coming for you’. The line went dead. Lucy went upstairs to check on the children. They were sleeping peacefully and everything seemed normal but it didn’t stop her checking all the door locks and double bolting the back windows.
An hour later, at around 11pm, the phone rang again;
‘Hello my dear, nearly time’,. This time Lucy telephoned the Police. After explaining what had happened the police operator told her they would put a trace on the line. If the call happened again she was to try and keep the man talking so they could establish a location from which the calls were being made. Within half an hour the phone rang once more.
‘Hello sweetheart’, it’s nearly time for us to meet, I hope you are looking forward to it?’ This time Lucy tried to keep the caller on the line. ‘Who are you’, she asked. ‘Why are you doing this?’ But the sinister voice just repeated ‘I am coming to see you and the children soon. Will you leave the door open for me?’. Still clutching the phone, Lucy panicked and raced to the front door to check it was bolted. She could hear menacing laughter down the line and screamed, ‘Who are you, why are you doing this to me?’
‘Just make sure you are ready for me, darling’ and the line went dead. Shortly before midnight Lucy heard cars pull up in the lane and hurried footsteps outside. There was a knock on the door and a man ‘s voice was calling her name. By now she was frozen with terror. She screamed as the old cottage door burst off its hinges and shadowy figures poured into the hallway, some racing up the stairs, some to the back of the house and two came towards her, crouching behind the settee in the living room. ‘Lucy’ a female voice called, ‘It’s alright you are safe now’. Disorientated Lucy tried to focus through her tears and finally made out the uniforms of two female police officers trying to calm her. Behind them, armed officers carried the children down the stairs and outside to safety and a scuffle was heard in the room overhead. ‘What’s happening?’ Lucy cried. ‘We traced the calls’, one of the officers told her. ‘They were coming from a telephone line inside the house’.
The Famous Hook Story
A teenage couple had been out to the cinema in a remote town in western France and had bought some burgers to eat on the journey home. Pulling over into a deserted but well-known Lover’s Lane they ate the food and after throwing the papers into a nearby dustbin the lad returned to the car, feeling lucky. He turned the radio on and the pair began kissing and cuddling before a news flash interrupted the song that was playing. They both listened as the radio presenter gave a warning that a convicted mass murder had escaped from a nearby mental hospital and listeners were warned not to approach the man in any circumstance. A description was given including his height, hair colour, clothing and the fact he had a hook in place of his right hand, an obvious distinguishing feature. The girl began to feel a little uneasy but the lad, feeling his luck might be in, simply locked the doors and assured the girl they would be safe. After a short while longer she became frightened and pushed the lad off her insisting to be taken home. Frustrated and fed up the youngster slammed the car into gear and sped out of the parking lay-by with the wheels of his car spinning. The two didn’t speak on the journey home but as he dropped the girl home she began screaming uncontrollably as she stepped out of the car. Alarmed he raced round to her side of the car as neighbours also ran out to investigate. There, attached to the door handle and dripping blood, was the hooked hand. Evidence that the monster was moments from reaching her back in Lover’s Lane.
Don’t Turn the Lights On
Here is a story that has been frightening college and university students for decades, once again often with somebody claiming it actually happened to a person they knew
A girl was working alone in a library. It was getting so late and she realised reluctantly that she was probably going to have to stay there all night. So she decided to go back to her room and pick up a jumper. As she walked back across the deserted campus, she could see that her window was dark and it looked like her roommate was asleep. When she quietly opened the bedroom door she could hear heavy breathing so she didn’t turn on the light and just crept in, grabbed her jumper and crept out again.
Dawn was breaking as she finished her essay and she decided to go back to her room and start the day. But when she got back to her floor, there were three policemen standing outside her room. They told her that something terrible had happened. Her roommate had been found, horribly murdered and they needed her help deciphering a strange message they’d found inside the room. So she took a deep breath and opened the door. And there on the wall, in her room mate’s blood was written…AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN’T TURN THE LIGHT ON?
Extracts from The President’s Brain is Missing (And Other Urban Legends)
Albert Jack books available for download here