I am not really new here. I have been following this section for a while now. Presently, I am ready to start posting some of my scary stories.

You can check out my scary story blog @ http://deathlyscary..com/?m=1

These stories are from my unpublished collection of short stories titled Tales By A Graveyard.

That Night

Mide lay sleepless, staring up at the whirling and
swirling ceiling-fan.
Bored to the bones, he propped up on an elbow,
picked up his phone for the umpteenth time in the
last thirty minutes and again went fiddling about
the cyberspace until he stumbled upon a link in
flashing red:

I Can tell Your Date of Death

‘Now, this sounds like excitement,’ he said
aloud.
He clicked on the link and was immediately
shown a form. Instructions above the form
required him to fill in his full name and click on a SUBMIT button at the bottom of the form.
He punched in his name and submitted the form.
Three minutes later and he got a reply.
His heart iced over.
‘What! That is today’
His eyes flew to the sole calendar in his room
and the disturbing truth was confirmed.
Then he looked at the clock:

11:30pm.

No, I shouldn’t believe this. It is just some
harmless random prediction. It mightn’t be real. I
can’t die today.
He laughed out loud and lay back in bed. He tried
not to think about it anymore but his heartbeat
rolled on until it reached a crescendo.
He looked at the clock again:

11:40pm.

But what if it is accurate? Maybe I should just say
some prayers.
‘Lord, have mercy,’ he said over and over
again, his teeth chattering from fear.
He had his back to the clock.
He turned after a while and checked the clock:

12:00am.

‘I made it. I defeated the silly
prediction’
Forgetting himself, he got up on the bed, bounced
up triumphantly and the whirling and swirling fan-
blades pummeled his head to pulp.
A second later and the clock in the sitting-room,
a more precise clock, struck 12:00am.

Night Of The Well-Mistress

The well was just beside the house. All Made
needed was to do a semi circle walk around the
house and be there in less than a minute. The well
had a lid and a water pumping machine but the
electricity supply here was lousy and so the water
tank high up on a scaffold-like system of pipes
was nearly always empty. This was Made's fourth
night here. He had only recently fully packed in. He
needed water to flush his toilet, wash his dishes
and rinse his clothes. He got his two little buckets
ready, placed the rubber well-bucket in one of the
buckets and padlocked his door. As he walked
around the house towards the well at the opposite
side of the building , he saw one of his neighbours
coming out with a garbage bag dangling from his
hand.
'Good evening,' said Made casually.
'Good evening'
The two men walked on but the neighbour
stopped just before he got to the garbage heap and
called, 'Excuse me, you aren't planning on drawing
water this night'
'I am. As a matter of fact, I have to. I was busy
at school all day, so I couldn't come back early. I
need water'
'I can spare a bucket'
'No, don't worry. I don't like troubling people'
'Nay' said the neighbour with a dismissive wave
of the hand 'It is no sweat for me. You see, it is
not good to draw water at night. And this well
doesn't have some of the best histories around'
'Really?' said Made. 'What history?
'It is not edible'
'It will help me not to go draw from that well this
night. I am not a superstitious person, though'
A wave of irritation hit a side of the neighbour's
face. 'Neither am I. But I have seen something in
that well before'
'Really,' said Made, dropping his bucket and
pretending to want to catch the latest gist in town.
The mockery was lost on the neighbour who had
an appetite for telling ghost stories that scare even
him.
'There was this night that I needed water badly.
You know there is always that night when you
need water badly? I have always known that it
was bad to fetch water from a well at night. But I
needed water. You know, wash little things and big
things too. So I went to the well and got three
buckets...'
'Did you see anything in the well?'
'Nothing really. But I felt a coldness escape out
of the deep when I opened the lid. You know like
catching the first blast of air from an air-
conditioning unit just switched on. But that was not
the scary'
'What was the scary?'
'You see, I only used one of the buckets before
I went to sleep. In the midnight, I woke to the
sound of water splashing on my bathroom floor. I
didn't know what to make out of it. I was scared to
the testicles. When I managed to open the
bathroom door, all I saw was water on the floor
and three upturned buckets'
Made felt a little scared now but he quickly
checked himself.
'Is there any other person that has had a
similar experience?'
'Honestly, there have been two people'
'Ever spoken to the landlord about it before?'
'I have never. But I spoke with a friend of his.
He advised me never to fetch water there at night
again. He told me an even scarier story'
'What story?'
Made was certain the first story was enough to
keep him awake all night but he stubbornly wanted
to hear more in spite of himself.
'He said a visitor to this town was killed there.
She was arrested by the vigilantes and paraded
around town. He said she was heavily pregnant
but the vigilantes wouldn't consider that. They
insisted she was a Boko Haram suicide bomber.
They took out her baby by crude surgery that
killed both mother and child. They buried the child
in a narrow grave somewhere on this land where
this house stands. Then they took this woman and
threw her down the well'
'This story sounds like a cock-and-bull story'
'Sounds like but the old man was serious'
'I better go and try my own ill luck too tonight'
But he was not as confident as he sounded. He
would have liked to just return back to his room
but the neighbour just stood there and Made didn't
want to back away like a coward. He approached
the well with seemingly confident strides and
pulled up the lid. It swung open on lousy rusty
hinges.
'Did you feel the coldness,' said the neighbour
from his safe distance.
'No,' said Made still maintaining a jaunty mien
and tone. He fetched two buckets, strolled past his
neighbour and laboured out a strained good night.
Made stayed awake listening fearfully for the
splash of water on his bathroom floor. Then, he
stumbled out of sleep as he thought he heard the
splashes and the moan of a woman. He sat up,
wiping the sweat from his face. He had not known
when he dropped into sleep. He got up and went to
the bathroom door and pushed it open. He gasped
as he saw the flood of water on the floor and the
upturned buckets with cracks in them.
His heart went into a palpitating frenzy. He heard
the cooing of a baby and looked up sharply at the
bathroom window where four bright yellow eyes, a
pair of adult eyes, and a pair of infant eyes, had
been staring hard at him. The eyes vanished
immediately.