Ah, a cheery bonfire at the end of my review. Something to warm your bones. There's so much more to see at *Everwinter* Post Apocalyptic Theme Park
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Elven%20Mist/94/147/26 See the sights, ride the rides, it's to die for!

Tags:   Second Life SL Everwinter post apocalypse evil eerie scary spooky creepy

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New twist on an old corpse; thanks to Morgan, Teddi Z is the most chic dead chick this side of hell. I feel practically alive! (giggles) Ready for a tour of the terrifying in Second Life?
We begin here, in Baja Norte, Bentham Manor for spooky supplies
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Baja%20Norte/130/157/2541
(Hugs and thanks to Morgan for the super cute Lazybones pink Tape dress
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Escapes/171/219/24 )

Tags:   Second Life SL Baja Norte Bentham Manor Halloween zombie blonde girl top hat creepy spooky funny eerie Lazybones fun decorations holiday pink dress style fashion clothes

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Creepy
Oh, so creepy
I wonder
What’s more creepy
Her face
Or how she walks
So rigid
So horrid
A smile filled with horrible secrets
That should never be told

"Oh So Horrid" by Zersrol

(Morgan! Stop scaring me!)

Tags:   Second Life SL screenshot virtual zombie brat girl cat bus urban creepy scary burning fire city night

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Have you heard of a chair
all blue and gray,
with bloodstains and rust,
that smelled of decay.
Little girl lost,
in pigtails and hat
discovered the chair,
and in the chair she sat.
A mouth opened up,
all toothy and wide
and into it's belly,
screaming,
she swiftly did slide.
Little girl lost,
was gone just like that
gobbled up by the chair,

leaving only her hat.

"The Insatiable Chair" by Frankie Smith

(I popped over to AIM's Halloween EXPERIENCE and ran into the creepiest little brat! I just couldn't shake her, no matter where I went! -giggles- You're the spookiest, Morgan!)

Tags:   Second Life SL virtual screenshot spooky creepy girl zombie chair blonde Halloween

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Seaside Shacks is a collection of little shops along the beach selling fruits and vegetables, as well as arts and crafts.
The tourists love the quaint, brightly colored stalls, and so do the locals. It smells of incense, sunbaked clay pots, spices, seafood and the biting tang of ocean brine.
My friend, Lea doesn't like to shop alone there. She said her best finds were always when I was with her.
"marketing tip," she once told me. "Don't shop alone."
So, Lea and I spent many happy hours at the market, searching out perfect produce and unusual art finds.
I was surprised when she came to me one day, obviously shaken by something.
"I saw that old woman again," said Lea, her voice unsteady.
"Sit down," I urged, guiding her to one of the chairs on the boardwalk, under a large umbrella. "What old woman?"
"The one I told you about! The one who looks like a witch!"
"So, she's super cute, like me?" I teased, because I happen to be a witch.
"No, the one I told you about. She's old, like ancient! I don't think she has any teeth. And she wears this shawl that drags on the sand. Her hair is gray and wispy and her eyes," Lea broke off. "Her eyes are so dark they're like holes, like pits!"
"Oh, yeah. I remember. She sounds like quite the character," I allowed.
"No!" Lea's voice was sharp. "There's this smell, too, like something died, and she's always talking under her breath. I can't tell what she's saying, but it was like she was trying to put a curse on people! On me!"
"Come on, Lea," I tried to reason with her. "She sounds homeless, if anything, and maybe she has a mental condition."
"Homeless?" asked Lea.
I shrugged. "I'm just guessing, but it makes more sense than a wicked witch of the beach, right?"
"I guess so," allowed Lea. "Let me know what you think when you see her."
"What makes you think I'll see her?"
"She's there every single day," asserted Lea. "I'm surprised you haven't seen her yet."
"I'll keep an eye out for her," I assured my friend.
And I did. Every single time I went to the market I looked for the elderly woman, but I never saw her. Lea stopped seeing her, too, and we both thought she either left town, was placed in a home, or perhaps even passed away.
Until one day -
I was coming out of the local confectionary shop when I ran into Lea as she was going inside.
"So, what did you think of her?" she asked.
"Think of who?"
"The old woman," she prompted. "Just as weird as I said she was?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I've never seen her."
"Of course you have," insisted Lea. "She was at the market the day before yesterday. I saw you there, at the florist stall."
"Yeah, I was there, but I must have missed the old lady."
"What are you talking about?" Lea sound a little annoyed.
I shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I missed her."
"Really?" Lea clearly didn't believe me and I couldn't figure out why.
"Lea, I didn't see her," I insisted.
"Sure. She took your arm when you left the florist, but you didn't see her," said Lea with a heavy dollop of sarcasm.
"Okay, I get it. You saw somebody you thought was me-"
"It was you," interrupted Lea. "You were wearing that pink jumper I hate, and you bought a clay jug potted with a peony plant."
My eyes involuntarily went to the kitchen table where the clay pot hosted a cluster of bright pink peonies.
"But, there wasn't any old woman," I quietly denied, my eyes returning to Lea's sticken face.
Something blocked my view. Her mobile phone, held up, the screen toward me.
A picture on the screen.
A picture of me at the florist, my back to the camera.
I was walking away from the camera angle, leaving the florist, with my peonies cradled in my right arm.
On my left side, an old woman held my arm and walked with me. She was looking back, over her shoulder, at Lea.
With dark eyes. Eyes like the deepest holes. Eyes like pits deep enough to swallow a soul.
I'm like Lea, now, I don't go to Seaside Shacks alone. And I find myself searching the faces of elderly women for familiarity.
I know what I'm looking for.
Dark eyes.
Like holes.
Like pits.
Marketing tip? Don't shop alone.

(Special thanks to Morgan for her portrayal of Lea. Good night, and pleasant screams!)

Tags:   SL Second Life virtual scary short story chiller thriller ghost spooky creepy friend market

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