The Hollow

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. 

Image source.

Nazgûl: Ringwraiths

Love this.

Image source.

Night Monsters

More images here.

Tridents And Pitchforks

The Devil's pitchfork appears in the second half of the early middle ages, somewhere after 800 CE.  He appears by the hands of ecclesiastical writers and artists: monks and bishops.  Did those monks and bishops draw their inspiration from Greece and Rome of a 1000 years before?  Or from looking on peasant flock who the monks were just then beginning to worry would be shepherded away by some physical, stalking Satan, prodded and poked from salvation to the gates of hell like some demonic inversion of John the Baptist's vision of salvation by Christ:

His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire. [Matthew 3:12, Luke 3:17]

Text source.
Image source.

The Bitter End Cemetery

When it's my time to go, please deposit my remains at Bitter End.

I don't believe I've ever seen a fake cemetery like this one.  Usually it's quite obvious it's artificial, especially since the average Home Cemetery is on someone's front or back yard.  But the setting of this is like the real thing.  Bananas.

Click below to watch a video (I can't find any other photos/videos other than reddit):

Day Of The Veggie People

More images by DamnNearKilledIt.

Nightlight

The camera had moved again.

She sighed as she stared into her phone. She was tired. SO tired. Everyone is quick to tell you the horrible birth stories, and the magic of unconditional love. No one talks about the everyday fatigue, constant demands, unending attention. She felt that was the hardest part. The camera was a blessing at first - she could see her daughter from any room in the house, anywhere on the property, actually. She felt like she was finally getting her life back when the baby slept. But now, as it had done every day for the past week, the camera had drifted from her sleeping daughter and over to the small lamp in the corner they used as a nightlight.

She had reset her password. She had her husband check the wall mount. But still, every afternoon during nap time, the camera would drift off into the corner. She never saw it moving. One moment it was on her daughter, the next, on the lamp. "Fuck it," she thought. A storm was moving in, and the overcast sky was begging for a nap. "I can still hear her," she mused, pulling the covers around her.

She woke to thunder shaking the house, and something else. She listened for a cry, a wail, but heard nothing. As hard as she tried, she couldn't fall back asleep. Checking her phone, she noticed her daughter's room was dark. Very dark. Save for the flickering lamp in the corner. And then, movement. She could just make out the shape of her daughter crawling on the floor, towards the lamp. She had never done that before, never gotten out of her crib, and as she ran down the hallway staring down at her phone, a man's voice stopped her cold.

"What a pretty girl! You are so pretty....I'd hang you like a lantern!"

The lamp flickered out.

Story from Reddit's ShortScaryStories.