Stare at static on the tv and claim you can see a "magic picture".
Just stupid things like that.
Oh well blogger, have a nice day :)
ps mitch, hope you dont mind if i use up all your internet time ;P
By Catherine Holthouse
To reader: In this story there are two sides, Ed Geins and Ryans. The two stories swap a few times. In the real story of Texas Chainsaw Massacre the house burns down, but in my story Ryan buys the house from Ed. I hope you enjoy it.
My name was Ed Gein. Yes, you read that correctly, I was Ed Gein. But now I am dead, a ghost, and I am here to tell you my life story.
I was born on the 27th of August, 1906. I was raised harshly along with my brother Henry. We were taught to have no friends, and love no women. But what nobody knew was that I had one friend. His name was Ryan, and we became friends in year five. I had to keep my friendship a secret, even from Henry.
It was 1940 when my first family member died, and I can’t say I was sorry to see him go. He was an unemployed alcoholic who was often violent. My brother Henry died trying to put out a brush fire, and I was blamed for it, because I knew exactly where Henry had died and led the police straight to him. I don’t know how I knew that, I just had a feeling.
I decided that after so many deaths in my house, I was to move far away, across the country. I put my house up for sale. But when people came to look for the house… the first person to look at it was Ryan. He had the highest offer and soon enough, he was moving all his things into the house. I guess I was a little emotional that I was moving, but it was probably for the best. Anyway as soon as Ryan had payed me for the house I had my bags packed and was moving to the other side of the country. I was moving to
I can’t believe it. I, Ryan, had bought my own house. It looked so nice. It was an old style house, which was exactly what I was looking for. It was four days after I had moved into the house that I had seen it on the news. There had been a killing spree of women in
The next night the news was mainly the same. Ten more women had died. They news reporter was calling it the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. According the to reporter, every victim of the killer had received a phone call sometime the day before saying “your next”. Obviously these people had totally freaked out and tried to flee from their homes, only to fall into the killers trap. It was then that the phone rang. I picked up. “Hello?” I said. I had a two word response. “Your next” said the person on the other side. I dropped the phone, scared of what that phone call had meant. Was it something to do with what I had seen on the news? The
I woke up to the sound of knocking on the front door. It was more like pounding… I thought that they were going to smash the door down. “Hang on a minute!” I shouted. The knocking stopped; then started again. This time it was louder. I ran down the stairs and answered the door. I opened it but there was nobody there. So I stepped outside and had a look around, but I didn’t see anything. But it was when I went to walk back inside the house that I noticed it, the blood that was all over my front door. I was really freaked out. So I ran inside and called the police. They said they would be at my house in five to ten minutes at the most. So I sat on a chair and waited.
The police never showed up. I was watching the news again and the reporter was talking about a police crash when I had turned on the television. The police crash was about five minutes from my house, which is why they never showed up. I tried to call someone to see what I should do but whoever was at my door this morning must have somehow disconnected the phone line, because I couldn’t ring anyone. So I packed my bags, got into my car and floored it down the street. There was someone hanging around my house, someone dangerous and I didn’t want to meet them. I never wanted to return to the house again.
Hi, it’s Ed again. I’m really enjoying my life here in
I had heard that Ryan was fleeing the country. I didn’t know why, it was just a rumour. I thought that he was happy in the house he bought from me… I guess not. I never really believed in ghosts but since three people had died maybe my mother, my father of my brothers ghosts had come back to haunt him. Oh well, no time to think about that, it was time to go on another killing spree!
I only killed a few people tonight, not many people left. My house has a basement and ive been decorating that with the body parts of women. Human skin for the light shades, skulls for bowls. Just little things like that. My house was beginning to smell a little gross. I was adjusting to it really well though; I didn’t notice it very much and when I did it bother me. But I could never invite people over, even my new made friends. I was really starting to enjoy my life, even thought it sounds so disgusting, so sick. But I didn’t care.
It’s Ryan here again. I’m halfway across the country. But it feels like something from the house is following me… a ghost maybe? I think three people died in the house? I don’t know; I never really kept in touch with Ed Gein after primary school. It was then that I saw the thing in the back of my car. All I saw of it was two eyes; two staring eyes looking at me in my rear vision mirror. I stopped the car in the middle of the road and turned around to face the backseat, but there was nothing there. So I took a few deep breaths and then cautiously got back into the car. I hadn’t even driven a hundred metres before a saw the eyes again. I tried to look behind me while I was still driving. Stupidest thing I could have ever done, I swerved off the road and almost hit a tree. My heart was pounding so fast. I couldn’t drive again, so I just slept outside of the car for the night.
It was around ten the next morning when I woke up. But when I did wake up I was surprised I didn’t wake up earlier. I almost threw up at the sight of what I saw. There was blood everywhere. I jumped up in shock. There was blood all over the car, blood on the trees near where I had been sleeping and a trail of blood leading off into a nearby forest. I don’t know what made me do it but I followed the trail into the forest.
I was horrified by what I saw. Blood everywhere, but no body to be seen. Wait. There it was. Slits all over its body, face cut off. I didn’t know what to do, what to think. I couldn’t see a killer or anything. I heard footsteps behind me, but I couldn’t see anything or anyone. But then the sun went behind the clouds and the forest went pitch black and there was a light. The light was only very faint, but it was still there.
My eyes slowly adjusted to the light, and I realised that the light was in human shape. It was a ghost, with the same staring eyes as the eyes that had been in my rear vision mirror in the car. I tried to back away slowly, but by doing so I was heading further and further into the forest. The ghost was holding something. A knife maybe? I couldn’t figure it out. And before I realised what was happening the weapon was at my throat and my head was rolling across the ground. I was dead.
I hear Ryan died. Apparently he was trying to get away from the house when he saw some weird eyes in the back of his car. And then somehow he ended up in a forest and was killed. No-one knows how, and all they found was his head.
Anyway as for me, the police found all my collection in my basement and I was taken away to live in a mental hospital. That is where I died on the 26th of July, 1984.
The End.
We both weren't sure if it would last this long.
He had more doubts than me.
![Cute Pic :]](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VSuvtGfqPbg/SQqjjRT-ngI/AAAAAAAAADY/Dk3_EGfHkGg/S240/jeffthomas--large-msg-116677834112%5B1%5D.JPG)
