philippine ghost stories, creepy stories... Options

[spoon_fork]

3 creepy stories:

these are from the "true philippine ghost stories" book. read on. this is fun ;)

Model
Anonymous

Most girls dream of becoming either an actress or a model someday. They dream of seeing their faces on tv or the big screen, the object of envy of most people.

This is the story of one such girl.

It was a rainy afternoon. Staffers of a production house in makati were grumbling about not being able to catch a ride home that night. They anticipated it was going to be another long day for them as they were screening for models for an advertising campaign.

The director, a foreigner, was a meticulous client who was quite hard to please. He would often go through several screenings and vtrs in search for just the right “face” to put in his commercial, which were, in truth, mini-opuses for him.

That particular day, they were looking for fresh faces for a softdrink ad. It was a full-blast ad campaign, so the model who would be chosen would not only be in the 15-, 30, and 6-second tv commercials, but will also be plastered on giant billboards, posters and full-spread ads the company was planning to put out.

Needless to say, the director was more demanding than usual.

It was just after lunch, and already the reception area of the production office was filled to the brim with models and wannabe models. Not to mention a whole coterie of stage moms, talent agents, and personal assistants.

The secretary was at her wits’ end trying to accommodate all of them. In the end, she gave up and sought sanctary in the office patry.

At around 3pm, a pretty young lady walked in.

She was the perfect China doll. Fair, mestiza skin, chinesey eyes and long black hair. She was about 5’6” and slim. She moved about the room gracefully, smiling at everyone and no one in particular.

She said her name was Roweena and that she’d always wanted to be a model.

Many of the staffers of the production company wondered why they’d never seen her before. She explained that she had just transferred to the Philippines from abroad.

Ohhh…no wonder, they thought. A face like hers would have been snapped up by advertising agencies and plastered all over television and the print media.

As the day wore on, Roweena proved to be friendly and cooperative. Being the last to come to the screening, and a walk-in talent at that, she had a long wait before facing the cameras. But she didn’t mind, and showed no signs of impatience, in sharp contrast to many of the other models there.

While the others complained loudly about the long wait, about the cramped quarters and abut their melting makeup, Roweena chatted amiably with the production assistants, asking about the commercial, the director, etc.

Finally, at about 6pm, it was her turn to face the cameras. The production staff was not disappointed. She registered beautifully on the screen! And she seemed totally at home in front of the camera. Plus she seemed capable of just about anything he director asked her to do. He told her to jump, she did a little cheerdancer’s jump. He told her to dance, she shimmied like a disco dancer.

She’s perfect, everyone thought. The director seemed to think so too.

Towards the end, the director called for a group shot of all the models. So everyone lined up, including Roweena, and gave the cameraman their best smiles.

Finally, the shoot was over! They could all go home.

As they all filed out of the office, the staffers talked about Roweena and made bets that she would be the lucky one chosen for they ad campaign.

After a day or two, the director called. He had made up his mind to pick Roweena, but he needed to show his client the VTR she made.

But when they showed the reel that Roweena was supposed to be in, there was nothing but exposed film. They checked the other reels, they all seemed okay, except for Roweena’s tape.

How weird, they all thought. And how unlucky.

Oh wait, there’s still the group shot they took at the end of the shoot.

But when they checked it out, their hairs stood on end and goosebumps popped all over their body.

Everyone was in the shot, except Roweena! In the spot where she was supposed to be was a gap, like someone cut out of a picture.

They checked their models’ files. Her file could not be found.

Then they learned that similar incidents happened in other production houses and advertising agencies in Makati.

Apparently, Roweena was a young girl who dreamed of becoming a model, but was not able to make it because she was struck down by cancer at the age of 22.

It seems Roweena’s ghost is deadest on breaking into the modeling business.

Even from beyond the grave.
=======================

Decapitated
By Jonathan Celeste

This sounds like an urban legend, but I swear all of it is true.

I was about 12 years old and it was nearly All Saints Day.

I was really excited because my uncle and aunt and cousins from the province were coming to Manila to visit us. They had hired a passenger jeep to ferry them all to our house in Masankay, Sta. Cruz, Manila.

But it was a long, five-hour drive from Pangasinan to Manila and they left in the afternoon. That meant they would be arriving at around 12 midnight or 1 in the morning.

It was already past 11 in the evening and the October night was really really cold. Pretty soon I got tired of waiting for my relatives and went up to the room I shared with my sister. My sister was about 18 or 19 then.

To pass the time, I got out some books, intending to read until my relatives got to our house. I was too excited to sleep because I was very eager to see my aunt and uncle. It had been a while since I saw them.

I was so excited that each vehicle that passed our house would instantly lure me to the window for a peep.

After a while though, my adrenaline rush wore off and I began to feel tired. I grew sleepy, o I decided to just finish reading my book.

While I was reading on the bed I shared with my older sister, I saw a shadow cross the page of the book. Someone was peeking through our window!

I looked up and peered at our window. I couldn’t see clearly because of the curtains that covered the window. Curious to see what it was, I slowly stood up and went near the window to check it out.

When I recognized what it was I was seeing I froze in my tracks. Then I let out a loud scream!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

I saw the head of a man wearing a pair of black-rimmed eyeglasses. The thing was, it was not connected to a body!

His eyes, they were red and they looked like they were gonna pop out of their sockets. His hair was bedraggled and scraggly, and HE WAS STARING RIGHT AT ME!!!

Then in an instant, it was gone!

My sister woke up because I was sceaming my head off. She saw me by the window. I was trembling like mad and I was white as a sheet! My hands were clammy and when she tapped me on the shoulder I clung to her arm like it was a lifesaver.

My mom and dad rushed up the stairs to find out what was happening. I tried explaining what I saw but couldn’t get past “there’s a head, there’s a head!”

Finally I just broke down and cried. My sister gave me a glass of water to calm me down.

Quite comforted by the presence of my family, I began to narrate what really happened. I told them that I saw a man’s head peeking into the room from the window. Our room was on the second floor.

My father was quick to dismiss my story. He said I was probably dreaming or maybe it was just a cat. But, how could a cat float on air?

My mom said she believed me and told me to go to bed. She hugged me until I fell asleep.

My relatives finally arrived while I was asleep.

The following day, at the breakfast table everyone asked how I was.

After eating, my mom said she told our neighbors about my experience the previous night and this is what they told her:

Several years ago, a drunken man and his buddy had a heated argument over some financial matter. The younger one, a heavyset man in his early 20s, left the drinking session. The older one, a skinny man in his late 30s, was too drunk he was almost rolling on the floor. He didn’t notice the other man leaving but continued to laugh raucously and rile the younger man.

When the younger man came back to the drinking session, but this time he was wielding a butcher’s knife. He attacked his drinking buddy and laid down the latter’s head on the pavement near our house. He drew the butcher’s knife and chopped off the head of the old man!

Since no one was there to witness the crime, he managed to get off scot-free.

Since then, strange things had been happening and people passing the area at midnight would feel their hairs rising on the back of their necks and feel ice-cold air blasting at them.

My mother said it was probably the head of the man who got decapitated that I saw.

As time passed, the horror of that night faded in my mind and soon enough I forgot all about the incident.

Except every October, when an ice cold wind would brush my skin.
=====================

The Howling at the Benitez Hall
By Joel P. Salud

It as about 11 in the evening, and the air was damp and heavy with rain.

The evening sky covered the city like a dark gray blanket even though it was nigh on midnight.

The wind was cold, bitter and crisp, almost vindictive as it howled and made the branches of the old acacia trees that lined the edge of the University of the Philippines Sunken Garden whistle.

Two friends, Alma and Christine (not their real names), both young and creative writing instructors at the Diliman campus, were stranded in front of Benitez Hall.

They hadn’t expected it to rain so hard that day. There was nothing in the news about an incoming storm. There were no warnings from PAGASA, as usual.

After alighting from the jeepney, they ran as fast as they could towards the huge wooden door of Benitez Hall where a security guard was sitting quietly, writing something on a small piece of paper.

Christine, who lived nearby, asked the security guard to let them into the building since the rains were getting more furious. The two teachers needed a place to stay for the night, or at least, until the rains subsided.

After presenting their IDs, the guard let them in. By that time both Alma and Christine were already soaking wet.

The guard accompanied them into one of the rooms situated at the left wing of the old building. The guard called Obet, the caretaker of the building, and asked if he had the keys to the classrooms. As the caretaker opened the door, a whiff of frosty air blew toward the faces of the two instructors. Which was strange Christine thought, noticing that all the windows were closed.

As the two instructors went in, Christine, who was more spiritually sensitive of the two, felt a certain presence brush near her shoulder. At first she did not mind it. It’s probably a wayward breeze, she said to herself.

Benitez Hall, or the college of education, was one of the oldest buildings on campus. Aside from being the building where some of the best professors in UP were honed, Benitez Hall is likewise infamous because of its ghost sightings.

In its former incarnation, it was an interrogation camp of the Japanese Army during WW2. Most UP graduates know that it is the most haunted building on campus.

Christine and Alma settled down, took of their wet business jackets. They put together two tables to use as beds. Since they did not have blankets, the two used the jackets.

As Christine was about to hand the jackets to Alma, she heard footsteps coming from the corridor, on the other side of the door. At first, she thought it was the guard, but she noticed that the footsteps were made by someone with rubber soles, like slippers. The guard was wearing leather shoes.

Both knew they were the only ones in the building aside from the guard.

Christine went to the door. She tried to open it, but the door remained tightly shut. Feeling something eerily strange about the goings on, she motioned to Alma to help her open the door.

They started yelling, calling for the guard. Despite their shouts and calls for help though the guard did not come.

But Christine could still hear the footsteps from the other side of the door. After about three minutes, the sound of footfalls stopped. She peeked through the peephole to see who it was on the other side. All she saw was the color red.

Alma, scared stiff because of the ghost stories she heard in the past about Benitez Hall, started banging on the door and kicking it.

A few seconds later, the door opened and the guard rushed in the classroom, asking what happened.

Christine asked: “is there anyone in the building aside from us?”

The guard shrugged off his shoulders.

“We heard footsteps, someone wearing slippers.”

“Obet already left. There’s no one in the building but us,” the guard confirmed.

“Is this building really haunted?” Alma asked.

“I’ve been guarding this building for the past six months,” the guard said. “Yes, I’ve heard stories of people who died in Benitez Hall. I also heard ghost stories from the former guard. I don’t believe these ghost stories. All I know is that a student died here once. A friend of mine who used to be assigned to guard Benitez Hall said he saw a person floating in the air dressed in white, with BIG RED EYES!”

At that, Christine slumped down in a dead faint

creepy when i read the story... and also read some of the stories in the book in many versions....

[sprezzatura]

Ghost stories are always my favorite.