It took me a while to realize that I was an adult that was having a conversation with another adult. The shower scene in this film is done with admirable skill. Officials say life for the Turpin family's 13 children was one of extreme horror and abuse. I was changed by my experience, yeah. My jeans would brush against my legs every now and then, making it feel like someone was touching me, and even now, I still can't completely convince myself that someone wasn't. There were parts of the tunnel in which the ceiling dipped down to maybe three feet above the ground. Grandma and Cousin have passed. As I approached the far corner of the room, the sound of my feet scratching against the dirt was interrupted by a soft, hollow thud. You know that feeling when your stomach drops? Steve and I were basically like tourists, hunting for the site at which a famous movie was filmed or something like that. "Fucking took him, they did. Mind you, neither of us was scared of finding The Showers; this little excursion on our road trip was more like a scavenger hunt, a cap-off to an overall relaxing vacation. I pulled myself for what felt like miles, running into walls every now and then because the path seemed to curve like a snake. They pulled the car up near the building, realizing when they were out of the car that it appeared to be like the kind of places where one would store a whole bunch of chickens, not a home. His words were almost incoherent, at least to my ears. "Jesus, Jack! By: Heyit'skellie. They settled into a motel in some town that Mr. Mays could barely remember the name of when one of his friends realized that they were somewhere near his grandfather's farm. "Mr. Mays, it's Jack. After our rental was through, we packed up again and headed on our way back east. Every area in all parts of the world has those area-specific urban legends that just refuse to die. -Lon Chaney So, the group roamed around the property and over towards the silo. We went into the whole situation with little to no expectations and a fleeting hope that we would be able to find this place. It reached down beyond the fingertips of the child, which were caked with dirt. I clumsily rose and busted through the door, narrowly missing a piece of hanging sheet metal in front of me. We never typically "hung out" with them or anything like that; we just had conversations now and then over drinks and food. He wasn't entirely sure where it was, but being adventurous college kids, they decided to get a quick refund from the motel and try to contact the friend's grandpa. Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the lightys, The Strangest security tape I've ever seen, I hate it when my brother Charlie has to go away. Those same people will swear by these stories without ever being able to provide a shred of evidence or a name of someone who could provide proof of the claims simply because "everyone around here knows that it's a true story. So I crawled. I was angry at myself for getting so worked up. And despite the popularity of modern horror movies, jump-scares don’t really work in book form. In the moment, it just felt good to lean against something. It was very quick, and I cannot be sure that it wasn't my own body moving around without my noticing; but I thought that I heard a scraping sound not ten feet in front of me. We spent another day in Broken Bow before we took our next trip out to try to find The Showers. I have laid this little introduction out as sort of a disclaimer, aimed particularly at those who will call my story into question. We should get some pictures as 'proof', you know?" I suppose it had some sort of effect on me, but I wasn't hurt by it or anything of the sort. I don't know; I don't care. It was on a night just like this when a little girl went missing in these woods. I breathed deeply for a couple more seconds before I heard another noise in the darkness. I limped to the corner, humming to myself, trying to break the deafening silence. It was a door that belongs at the entrance to a nice house, not one that would be sitting in a dirt tunnel in the middle of nowhere. "It's buried under all of our stuff. This, again, is in hindsight. Just keep looking with me." Papa starts the story with the two children going for a walk in the forest on a dark night. He began his story immediately after the class had calmed down. They went down the steps into the cellar, which was lit by single bulbs spaced sporadically along the ceiling of a long hallway. Some of the children were almost completely obscured by the length of it; every single one of them didn't appear to have seen a shower or nice bath in their entire life. I pushed myself over to the nearest cement wall and braced myself against it, resting and breathing deep in an attempt to calm myself. I searched for a cut anywhere on my forehead, but couldn’t find one. Brings back great memories, lots of laughs and plenty of SCREAMS! I tumbled to the ground. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is a 2019 horror film directed by André Øvredal, based on the children's book series of the same name by Alvin Schwartz. At the end of the pipe was a simple showerhead, aimed down towards the ground. I continued to hum and my heartbeat, which had been beating almost out of my chest, slowed to a manageable rate. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Showers?oldid=1195760. I put my foot down hard against the ground and heard it again. Most importantly, it's finally out of my head. I told him all about Mr. Mays, that class, my love for everything horror-related and whatnot, and he suggested that we tried to find the place on our return trip to New York. I was transfixed, sitting as far forward as my desk would allow, bracing for more. At this point in my life, I wasn't as much of a ham as I was in my younger years. I didn't realize it at the time, but the little bits of light that managed to penetrate the canopy in this miniature forest actually did make it look as if the tree branches were trying to grab the car, just like Mr. Mays had mentioned in the story. In the dim light, he could see children, at least twenty of them in just the visible light. The metal was rusted and cracked; little bits of the liquid began to seep from them. Both of us were thinking about what the lady had said. I'll try to recount the parts of the story that matter the most, but don't hold me to it. I let him explore for a little bit before I called him over. "Listen Jack, I don't know why I kept telling that story, year after year." I'm awake now, semi-sober, and ready to finish this for you guys, the internet, and whoever cares to hear it. There were no time constraints, so they just kind of drove in the general direction that they wanted to go and eventually found a town to stay in or someplace that looked interesting. My self-deprecation in the afterlife was interrupted by what sounded like Steve's voice. He got to die around people that cared about him, and that is all I can ask for a man like that. It is a story of two young people on the verge of falling in love. I moved along the cement wall, keeping my whole body against it and the weight off of my injured knee. I pointed my flashlight to my left, the direction from which I thought I heard the sound. The boy, or girl, I'm not entirely sure which, moved towards me with difficulty. He was a charismatic guy. It wasn't until college that I got a chance to talk to Mr. Mays again. When we questioned them about it, they told us that they were headed to a little get-together with some friends of theirs, and they invited us. Then, the shower curtain beside her shifted, making her jump towards the door frame. It worked well enough. XX (2017) Horror fans will delight in this frightening anthology directed and written by Jovanka Vuckovic, Annie Clark, Roxanne Benjamin, and Karyn Kusama features a wealth of creepy … Please, just get it open please," I whimpered. The showerheads were there and they were leaking something. My head was pulsing with pain. Disappointed, I wandered near the entrance while Steve ventured into the expanse of darkness. "People don't deal with anything relating to that sort of business around here anymore," she told us. Besides all of that, I was just so immensely happy to find an exit. He began his story immediately after the class had calmed down. The group waited about thirty seconds before their tension broke. Wow, you do know how to fuck up." It is definitely creepy enough. Advertisements Estimated reading time — 4 minutes Transcript taken from a video found under the link: SCARIEST “STORY” EVER The video feed turns on in night vision mode. But, when I began to describe the details that I remembered from his story, the friendly old woman interrupted me. "I'm okay, I just hurt my knee; I bumped my head too, really hard.". "I think they were all ghost babies that were killed by a dog," said another. There was no way this was real. Things had just gotten very strange. The guy next to the door shrugged his shoulders and went to walk back to his friends, but as he did, the light bulb between them surged and exploded. That all seemed to fade into one emotion in an instant when I heard what I could only identify as breathing, somewhere to my left. I was convinced that there had to be something. We had to move several smaller clusters of branches out of the way before, but right in front of our exit was a giant, dead, monster of a tree. The shirt simply read: "I'm the birthday boy!". "Of course, Jack. I continued through my college career and graduated a year or so after our bar meeting. Regardless, the typical horror tropes worked on most of the class; everyone was terrified. They were all standing, staring, most of them only visible from the faint light reflecting off of their eyes. My stomach must have been on the verge of falling out of me at this point, because it shifted again. I saw the barn in front of me, illuminated by the headlights of the car. We weren't going to be able to do another trip like this for a long time, so I figured that we might as well make the best of it. "This is why I call them ‘The Showers’," Mr. Mays told the class. Steve laughed. "-ove you, baby." "Steve, just do it please. I like to think that I have had some wonderful contributions to various urban legends around the Midwest and northeastern states; I moved around a lot. I decided that the best course of action at this point was to turn off my flashlight, assuming that if they couldn't see me, they couldn't get to me, whatever "they" might be. His friend disappeared. The five girls lied to the police, saying they had witnessed Carmen falling down the sewer. The light didn't reach the other wall; it was too far away. I was a student of yours for a couple semesters about six or so years ago." This was a fairly futile effort; most of Nebraska is dirt roads. Eventually, I made it to Mr. Mays' story about "The Showers". I told myself that the human brain is constantly hallucinating. "I slammed the red door behind me," he said, "and ran through that hallway faster than I have ever run before or since. I convinced myself that it was my injured mind playing tricks on me for a few moments until my mind decided to rapidly replay Mr. Mays' story. "I wish they'd have found the body, though. He said that approaching that door was one of his biggest regrets. It moved slightly, creaked a little bit, but there was no way I was doing this by myself. Mr. Mays let the whole class know that he was going to tell us as much as he deemed appropriate about the experience. But, a couple of days before we left Colorado, I told Steve that it sounded like fun. The group was no longer concerned with finding the owners of the property, but was now set on finding the source of that smell. I suppose this aspect of my childhood has led to my current predicament which I will recount, in full, for the internet to take from it what they will. The class laughed and the mood lightened as the bell rang for passing period. Mr. Mays' friend went to say something else as one of the bulbs to their right flickered to life. We drove around in the darkness for quite a while before we found a clearing. Mr. Mays described the road as basically a dark path to hell. Following her statements, she attempted to be cheerful again, excusing herself to the restroom and wishing us the best on our return trip to New York. There was no way that I was climbing out of here. I turned off my flashlight and was left in complete and total darkness. Sometime during this trip, we had met up with a couple Estes Park natives in one of the local bars. There are members of every generation who will proclaim that they "know someone whose brother's best friend's sister went to that haunted house with thirteen floors that used real blood and snakes and spiders and is so scary that no one has ever made it all the way through." There is no typical ending for my story. I have been like the boy who cried wolf for years, but I assure you with every ounce of honesty and integrity that I have that this time, the wolf is real. The shower curtain hung down and blocked her veiw of the bathtub. Husband had a shower built upstairs in the converted storeroom because, he claimed, the boys did not have time to wash before coming to work. I agreed with Steve and kept driving, but the whole experience wasn't sitting right with me. Cops told us we were just drunk, that he wandered off and got taken by the wildlife. From there, they went to the Rocky Mountains in Colorado and then back home to New York. When we did get back on the road, we decided that we would attempt to stay off of main roads for as much of the day as we could. I made it back to the car, and we drove out of there like a bat out of hell." The storytellers eventually pass the tales onto their children, who modify them just enough to keep up with changing times, and the cycle continues. Again, this observation was primarily made after the fact. Once the group had calmed down, Mr. Mays noticed that the arm that had been bracing his friend's head was soaking wet. 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