Let me tell you a little about myself.

I am a man named Johnathon, who lives in a town called Mineral Point. I work at a gas station as a cashier and stock boy, when I'm called to do so. I am eighteen years old, so it's not like this was my full time job, I was still in high school when this all happened.

One day at school, I was talking with my friends at lunchtime when they started talking about urban myths. We discussed things like Bloody Mary, Mothman, and all sorts of legends that we heard of before. As we were deep into the conversation, the bell rang, signaling us to go to our next class. We planned then to meet at my house after school to talk more about this. When the day was over, my friends and I headed towards my house to discuss further into myths and legends. We got home and started talking about them, even going on the internet and looking some up, to see what we could find. When we thought we couldn't really find anymore interesting ones, one of my friends named Kyle asked if he could search for some. I didn't see any problem in that, so I moved over to let him type. The rest of us started to watch T.V. as Kyle was searching for more myths. Suddenly, Kyle yelled, “Hey guys, look at this!”

We all gathered around the computer to read about a local legend within Mineral Point. The myth said that if we went on Clarke Street and drove out of town, we'd run into Porch Road, which ended up being a dead end with an abandon house at the end. However, we read that if we were to go down this road and enter the house after 10 P.M. and before 4 A.M., we would encounter a ghost or demon. We all looked at each other, knowing that we all wanted to go and check this place out. We decided that we would do it on Friday, so we could stay up longer and not feel horribly tired in the morning during school hours. It was Wednesday when we found this, so we took time to prepare for the night that would end up being the worst idea we have ever thought of before.

Friday came around and we were a little nervous at first, but knew that nothing bad was going to happen....right? 9:30 P.M. came around when we got in my car and headed off towards our destination. I should maybe mention this before we dive head first into this. Our group was originally five people, but two of them changed their mind (was a smart choice), leave Kyle, me, and one other friend named Charlie. It was a little past 10:00 P.M. before we arrived at the house at the end of the road. The house showed it's signs of age as the wood on the outside was rotted, along with nature taking it's course, taking control of the house. We had to break the door down to get inside, which wasn't hard as the wood wasn't strong by any means, it was as strong as a thin layer of particle board. As we headed inside, we turned on our flashlights to see inside the house.

As we fully entered, the musty smell of the old house made it's presence known. I didn't mind that much as it wasn't a horrible smell, but Kyle and Charlie would often comment on it as we explored. The house was bigger than we though since we couldn't see the back of the house, which contained double the size of what we thought was the size of the house. As we explored, we noticed that we would see garbage, such as chip bags or bottles. As I picked up one of the bottles, I noticed that the expiration date was in the year 1993. I told both of my friends and we all thought that it was crazy, realizing that this house was inhabited around the 1990s. We finally made it into the master bedroom when we looked inside. We shined our flashlights inside as we were impressed as we saw some art that was still intact. It was very impressive, but we quickly ignored the art to continue looking around.

I opened up the closet door and looked inside to see some old clothes, along with a few guns with no apparent ammo inside. I ignored it when Kyle called Charlie and I over. Kyle showed us that he found the entrance to the basement. This is when my gut told me to turn back and leave the house, but I stupidly ignored it as we all made our way into the basement. The smell that we had smelled above had intensified, even to a level where I started to comment about it, saying that it was so strong. The basement wasn't too big, it had a low ceiling and had walls made of rock, and the floor was made of dirt. It was then that all of our flashlights turned off, leaving us with nothing but darkness.

We freaked out a little, but quickly calmed down. It was so dark in the basement that our eyes couldn't adjust enough to see. It was just pure darkness all around us and we couldn't find our way out. A few minutes passed by before I felt a step of the stairs that led up to the house. I called back to my friends that I found the exit as I opened the door. What happened next was the most terrifying event that has ever happened to me. I turned back to see Kyle's head drop at my feet, with blood coming out of his neck where he was decapitated. I was filled with terror, but didn't scream or yelled. Instead, I ran as quick as I could out of the house. I made it to my car before turning it on. As I was about to back up, Charlie’s head came at the windshield at a frighting speed, hitting it like a bug while you're driving. It bounced off the windshield and left a blood spot on the passenger side of the windshield. I quickly then backed up and shifted it into drive as I sped away from the house.

I had made it back to my home at 1:00 A.M. where I woke my parents up and told them what happened. They didn't believe me at first, but they were convinced enough to call 911 due to me sobbing in fear, hugging my parents tightly. The police arrived and I told them what had happened. They had called in a BOLO for a man that was walking outside, since it was late at night and it was their second option, with the other option being to head to the house and find him there. The next day passed by and I heard from the police. They said that they had found Charlie's head outside the house, while Kyle's head was still in front of the basement. They also reported that both of their bodies were heavily mutilated, arms and legs separated from their torso, but no signs of who or where the murderer could be. I was shocked at it and was deeply worried that the murderer was now trying to find me.

A week later from the event and I saw on the local news channel about the murder of my friends, along with seeing it within the newspaper that delivered that morning. Everyone at school gave condolences to me, having to experience all of that. I told them that I just wished it never had happened in the first place. I'm not talking about them dying, but us even going there in the first place. It was a bad mistake in the first place and still is the worst mistake I have ever made. I sat at my computer, thinking about it, feeling as guilty as ever about the whole event when I heard something.

“Hey John!”


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