The Pale Gown

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

The following is an accounts or entries written by a man who writes about his experience with the lady in white or the Banshee. The end of the story is pretty "twisted" and maybe really satisfying.

Submitted: January 10, 2018

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Submitted: January 10, 2018



I grabbed my camera and rushed out… I wasn’t going to miss this chance. This must’ve been what I had heard yesterday, and I’d freaked and left! I ran in the same direction as the creature, which I could still hear, howling. In an instant, the noises switched to behind me instead of in front. And they were drawing closer.

I was no longer running for the photograph of a supernatural phenomena. I was running for my life. When I stopped running, the noises ceased altogether. I slowly turned around, and I just began to cry, the sick feeling inside escalating. There was a woman there, dressed in what appeared to be a hospital type gown. But she was on all fours, head craned to look up at me. Her eyes were black, her skin was as pale as her dress, and she was dirty all over, I wasn’t even sure what color her hair was. I searched my pockets for something… Anything… But I didn’t even have my phone.

She made a slight, disgusting movement towards me and made a chattering sound much like what I’d heard the other night. I couldn’t form any words but ‘no’, which I practically whimpered, over and over. And she repeated it in the same breathy tone. “No… No…” She warbled before screeching when I moved. I froze in place as she crawled over on hands and feet. It was then, when she was close enough, that I realized the dirt all over her dress and skin, wasn’t dirt at all. It was blood, dried and cracking, the smell was repugnant. “No....Noooo!” She cooed at me, standing to match my height, awkwardly hunched as if she’d never stood straight before. Her face was disfigured, as if her cheeks had been ripped open from mouth to ears, then healed over again. She unhinged her jaw and opened her mouth, taking one step closer to me, then dodged to the side, taking down the monster that had creeped up behind me.

She fought bloodily with the Hellhound, tearing it apart with long unkempt nails. But instead of waiting to see what happened next, I ran. I couldn’t watch. I made it back safely.

I’m typing this on the plane on the way home, in a state of confusion and disarray. I believe that she, that broken, terrified girl, was the Banshee. After all, I’d heard her scream.

But to hear the Banshee scream means your death is imminent, and here I am, and she is my Savior. She attacked the demon that was meant for m… Oh God. That smell… It smells like smoke, something is burning… Everyone is yelling… And everything just went black.

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