Boogeyman Stories Novels & Stories

Brooke. “Oh,” I reply after Alexander ends the story, “I could’ve never guessed that’s how the story ends.” “It is quite a grim tale,” Alexander agrees. We make our way through a hall, and the maids and butlers stop working to dip their heads at Alexander and spare curious glances at me, “But all the versions of the stories end with the supernatural isolating itself from humanity.” “Why are there so many versions of the stories?” I question, “Shouldn’t there be only one?”

Bodach reached his hand down and I grabbed it as he lifted me up off of the ground we walk down a small corridor towards the deck where the seats were located. I realized then that there are more than just four personnel on this shuttle. ^^^^^^^^^^^ (1.5) Bodach is a "Trickster or Boogeyman" figure in Gaelic folklore and mythology. The Bodach "old man" is paired with the Cailleach "hag, old woman" in Irish legend. (Wikipedia)

"And I tell them stories." "What kind of stories?" Herb said. This was the part that had gotten him out of bed early on a Saturday morning (his only day off from selling mattresses the rest of the week) to come over here. Willie had mentioned stories when Herb got after him for being late coming home so often. It seemed they made quite an impression on the kid, but when Herb asked what kind of stories they were Willie clammed up. The Brookwood woman shrugged. "You know: ghost stories. The kind children like. Mostly ones my grandmother told me when this was her home. I could tell you one, if you like? So you'll see that they're not so bad."

And then, through the trees, I saw them looking so dangerous and menacing- Rogues. Dozens of them, their eyes glowing with hunger as they closed in on me, Making my anxiety level increase. “Tick-tock, little wolf,” the stranger whispered, with himself closer to me. “What will it be now?” I had seconds to decide what my fate would be like. And with the rogues closing in, my time had run out faster than I expected.

His voice comes out in a hoarse croak. “You want to say you don’t recognize your grandmother?” Iya Agba replies with a look of irritation. She gives a soft sigh and slowly stands to her feet. “Don’t come any closer!” I scream, raising his palm to deter her and taking a few steps backwards. I look around at the thick bushes which surround us, wondering what the odds of Iya Agba really finding me here is. His mind goes to the stories of malicious spirits I’ve heard before, spirits who takes on the image of loved ones to attack people deep in the forests.

I asked frowning, I have never heard about this. Ray laughed, “ It was in the bedtime stories, my mother and granny used to recite them to us to make us scared of going out in the middle of the night. you know how pups are! As soon as they start shifting that’s what they all want to do for a long time. The male pups even go out at night to run through the woods. So to keep me and my brothers safe, my mother and granny told us this myth. How at night a creature who is not man nor beast roams the landing of woods and if pups go there, he will eat them.”

If I had to guess, they probably didn’t get very many visitors down here. “Usss too.” It said back to me, and I swore I could hear a hint of sadness in the piercing voice. The answer left me confused, and even more shaken than I already was. These were the beings my village told ghost stories about. Horrible, malformed, and endlessly vicious creatures that had tried to kill their own mothers. They were the things that went bump in the night, and attacked without a second thought. What would they have to be scared of?

Sofia laughed, "This is really something out of the movies. Sergio appealed - You, Sofia, can be more stubborn than your mother. -What amazes me most, Dad, is that you believe in optical illusions more than in what your eyes saw. Silence was the answer. For now. On the other side of town in a Victorian style house, on a queen size bed, Malvina researches in her notebook everything about the latest cases involving possible creatures, and what she sees and reads does not please her at all. There are several cases in which people claim to have seen the 'hairy beasts with steel claws'; others speak of the blood-eyed creatures; not to mention the photos of footprints of unusual size for wolves. T

Ten-year-old Bree chimed as Emma looked over her shoulder worriedly. “That’s nice, sweetie. Why don’t you tell me about that mermaid story again?” “I hate that story. Can I tell the one about the wolf?” Bran chimed in. “Wolf?” Patrick asked as Brinna looked out the window and saw another animal running alongside their vehicle. “Yeah, the one that eats the girl in the red hood.” “Mommy, I don’t like that story. It is scary.” Bree snuck at the rolling landscape and saw the scary animal with sharp teeth sneering at her, so she pretended to look forward and saw her parents exchange a look.

Bog nodded and followed Brandon toward the small clearing. “Do you know much about the old coot chasing you?” Brandon asked over his shoulder. “I came upon his little cottage in the woods and watched him morph from this tiny man with sagging skin to what you saw chasing me. It was very magical and quite disturbing,” Bog replied. He was pleased to be able to tell the truth to his new companion to whom he owed his life. “I’m not surprised,” Brandon replied, “since he’s a witchdoctor of the worst repute. He’s a loner and a cannibal from what I hear. He’s quite dangerous.”