The rake is described as a naked man, or a hairless dog. It’s called The Rake because of it’s large rake-like claws. It brutally murders, disembowels, and tears apart people’s body when they sleep. A suicide note have said that they’ve felt the Rake’s presence before, while sleeping. Then they heard it. Then they were paralyzed as they looked into it’s eyes. They then killed themselves, in fear that the next time they slept they would be awoken by the Rake. Some accounts said that people screamed “THE RAKE” when they were being ripped to pieces. Knowing this, it can be assumed that the Rake attacks people who know who he is, or that he’s visited people before. The earliest known account is below:
“He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.”
People have also reported being stalked by the Rake. Slowly torturing them. Making sure they can’t fall asleep out of fear. And when they do fall asleep, he kills them.
(Save this until bed time to read)
Do you often hear noises at night? In your bed? Should you turn on your light? Should you keep your lights on before bed?
She commandeered the room in the basement of her dorm as soon as she realized she would have to pull an all-nighter in order to prepare for tomorrow’s final exam. Her roommate, Jenna, liked to get to bed early, so she packed up everything she thought she would need and went downstairs to study . . . and study . . . and study some more.
It was two o’clock, when she realized that she’d left one of the textbooks upstairs on her bed. With a dramatic sigh, she rose, and climbed the stairs slowly to her third-floor dorm room.
The lights were dim in the long hallway, and the old boards creaked under her weary tread. She reached her room and turned the handle as softly as she could, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside, so that the hall lights wouldn’t wake her roommate.
The room was filled with a strange, metallic smell. She frowned a bit, her arms breaking out into chills. There was a strange feeling of malice in the room, as if a malevolent gaze were fixed upon her. It was a mind trick; the all-nighter was catching up with her.
She could hear Jenna breathing on the far side of the room—a heavy sound, almost as if she had been running. Jenna must have picked up a cold during the last tense week before finals.
She crept along the wall until she reached her bed, groping among the covers for the stray history textbook. In the silence, she could hear a steady drip-drip-drip sound. She sighed silently. Facilities would have to come to fix the sink in the bathroom…again.
Her fingers closed on the textbook. She picked it up softly and withdrew from the room as silently as she could.
Relieved to be out of the room, she hurried back downstairs, collapsed into an overstuffed chair and studied until six o’clock. She finally decided that enough was enough. If she slipped upstairs now, she could get a couple hours’ sleep before her nine o’clock exam.
The first of the sun’s rays were beaming through the windows as she slowly slid the door open, hoping not to awaken Jenna. Her nose was met by an earthy, metallic smell a second before her eyes registered the scene in her dorm room. Jenna was spread-eagled on top of her bed against the far wall, her throat cut from ear to ear and her nightdress stained with blood. Two drops of blood fell from the saturated blanket with a drip-drip noise that sounded like a leaky faucet.
Scream after scream poured from her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself any more than she could cease wringing her hands. All along the hallway, doors slammed and footsteps came running down the passage.
Within moments other students had gathered in her doorway, and one of her friends gripped her arm with a shaking hand and pointed a trembling finger toward the wall. Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. Then she fainted into her friend’s arms.
On the wall above her bed, written in her roommate’s blood, were the words: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”
When mirrors were first introduced, people thought they were windows and portals to other evil dimensions.
Of course nowadays people don’t think that. But this old belief maybe is where stories like Bloody Mary come from.
I think the best type of creepy is when you aren’t approached or hear noises, but when you see something. Not something obvious like a man with a knife in your bedroom, but something like seeing your reflection blink. Something creepy. You’re not sure if you should call 911 and get a shotgun or continue living. Like seeing a dark figure upstairs when you’re home alone, but you’re not sure if it’s just your imagination. But you can’t call 911 and run out of your house screaming, because if it’s your imagination, people’ll think you cracra. Not being able to act in a serious manner but also not being able to continue on normally because you saw this is unsettling.
That’s why I think people are so afraid of mirrors. They are looking the opposite way of were the monster is, but they can still see the monster. Vulnerability. Having No Control. Not being able to fight back. That’s scary.
So just remember this next time you’re brushing your teeth: A Demon Will Pop Out Of The Mirror Behind You And Kill You And You Can’t Do ANYTHING About It! Haha!
< All of the following is 100% true. These are people who have experienced these stories’ point of view >
I moved to my dads when I was 10 and didn’t know anyone in the area, except for the family my dad was friends with. Single mom with 3 kids, luckily there was a girl a couple of years older than me (12 at the time I met her) and we got to know each other a little over a couple of years.
We weren’t close, but ended up having the same friends. One night my friend Rob was hanging out with her and her younger brother. They happened to be in the house alone because my friends mom was at work. Which is where this gets terrifying and sad. Her mother has been helping this one lady (through her work) and got to know her fairly well. She found out her sister was in a mental institution and was let out recently…
The night Rob is hanging out with my friend, they get a knock on the door. My friend thought it was just their mom (she knocks a certain way when coming in) and answered it without thinking. Rob wasn’t supposed to be there and he took off through the window to his house down the road. He never thought twice about it.
Wasn’t her mom. It was the sister of the lady her mom was helping, and she figured out through talking to her sister where her family lived and her moms working schedule. She came in, and this is where is don’t know details and I’m glad I don’t. My friend’s younger brother got away to the neighbors to call the police. The lady brutally murdered my friend a week from Christmas. Decapitated her and left her body, naked in a bathtub. Hid her head in a present box that was later discovered. I wasn’t allowed to go to her funeral.
“Dad, can you check under my bed for monsters?”
The little boy’s father smiled and then squatted down to check for monsters. He didn’t find a monster under his bed, he found his son.
The boy whispered, “Daddy, theres someone on my bed”
“Sam, could you come downstairs for a second? I need help with something”
“Alright, I’m coming”
“Don’t go down there, I heard it too” His mother’s voice sounded echoey coming out of the closet by the stairs.