داستان داستان انگلیسی | Rain in the Witching Hour

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Amin

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“Rain in the Witching Hour”

Written by P.D. Williams
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express...
لطفا برای مشاهده کامل مطالب در انجمن ثبت نام کنید.
 
امضا : Amin

Amin

مدیر ارشد
پرسنل مدیریت
مدیر ارشد
تاریخ ثبت‌نام
6/1/22
ارسالی‌ها
12,354
پسندها
45,847
امتیازها
96,903
مدال‌ها
146
سطح
40
 
  • نویسنده موضوع
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Rain poured down in unforgiving torrents. The windshield in Darius’ Uber taxi was steamy despite him setting the defogger to full blast. Visibility was nil except for the blurry blobs of streetlights that intermittently illuminated the windshield. Darius was fighting to stay awake in the early hours. He had two options: Red Bulls or thinking about the headless bodies that had shown up over the summer. This was Atlanta, the big city, and there were some sick people out there. For all he knew, the rider he was going to collect was one of them.


“Continue following University Parkway for two miles,” instructed the feminine voice on the app.


“How did I end up like this?” Darius...​
لطفا برای مشاهده کامل مطالب در انجمن ثبت نام کنید.
 
امضا : Amin

Amin

مدیر ارشد
پرسنل مدیریت
مدیر ارشد
تاریخ ثبت‌نام
6/1/22
ارسالی‌ها
12,354
پسندها
45,847
امتیازها
96,903
مدال‌ها
146
سطح
40
 
  • نویسنده موضوع
  • مدیرکل
  • #3
Darius pressed his heels into the wet pavement, trying to slow down his attacker, but the slick surface prevented him from finding a foothold. He twisted his body, hoping to break free of the powerful grip of his attacker—his murderer. But the man had performed this maneuver many times on many victims and had always won the battle.


“Stop struggling, you little twerp,” the stranger snarled, as he continued pulling Darius to his den of horrors. When he wrestled Darius into the unit, he exclaimed, “Behold my museum!”


Three six-foot shelves lined the walls, each one filled with plastic coolers similar to the one in the back of the Camry. In the dim of the low wattage overhead...​
لطفا برای مشاهده کامل مطالب در انجمن ثبت نام کنید.
 
امضا : Amin
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