I hear them calling in the pipes after sundown, their voices too sticky and sweet, like plums gone to rot.
One night I awoke to find myself sleepwalking toward the sewer. The next time, my fingers are wrapped around the cold metal gate, poised to lift it.
I know it's only a matter of time before my voice joins them down in the darkness.
It's okay though.
I can already tell that by then I won't be afraid.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Scary Stories and Facts
TerrorCheck out pt.2 it's better, I swear. **Absolutely none of these stories are mine. If any of these are your works and you wish for them to be taken down please message me and I'll do so immediately**
