Creative Scary Storytelling
Page Contents:
Piece 1: "The Wolf Cut" by Maia Rountree
Piece 2: "Desired Beauty" by Tian-Jiao Song
Piece 3: "Jane Doe Is Who?" By Matyana Vilaipone
"The Wolf Cut" by Maia Roundtree
She stood Infront of the bathroom mirror as the yellow, fluorescent lights flickered above her. Lai had hardly been able to recognize herself since her hair had grown past her waist over the summer. Lai noticed her eyes began to blur as she realized that she had been staring at her reflection for 10 minutes.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Lai said as she exhaled & began rubbing her eyes. She then reached for her phone and pulled up a reference picture of what she wanted.
“A wolf cut,” she said with a smile
That smile soon faded as she remembered what happened last time, she tried to cut her hair herself. Annoyingly, she sat on the edge of the bathtub as she called her best friend, Elenora.
The second Elenora answered the phone, Lai said, “Oh my gosh I need your help,”
Elenora peeked her eyes into the screen showing her worried expression
“Why? What happened? You didn’t try cutting your hair again, did you? You know how bad bangs look!” Lai laughed the slowly interrupted as Elenora frantically asked her concerns,
“Uhhhh no, I just need help with my hair, I want to get a wolf cut!”
Elenora’s face soon looked terrified, like she had just seen a dog die.
“Lai, are you sure you want a wolf cut? It's just, I heard some tales about a woman who once- “
“Duh I want the haircut,” Lai rudely interrupted, “Never mind I’ll just do it myself. You’re always tryna scare me off with your dumb fairytales.”
Lai hung up and leaned her phone against the bathroom mirror. She looked at the woman in the reference image as the reference image stared back through the screen.
“Maybe I should ask a few other people,” Lai thought.
For several hours, Lai had spent her time texting hairstylists and reading Reddit posts. The minute she saw “myths”; she was on to the next. Lai didn’t, “have time” for stories, or so she thought. She finally came upon a Reddit post that was describing the lady’s haircut experience. Her eyes became fixated on the woman’s captivating hair in the picture.
Lai continued reading the woman’s post after her review, but as she read her stomach began to get uneasy as the ladies’ words in the post became frantic.
“Beware,” Lai read aloud, “this haircut may be cute, but very, dark and twisted things have begun happening…as I type this I- gjadngaljtnewl gljkva “
Lai stared in confusion. Not knowing what to do, she shook her head and ignored it. She turned off her phone and stood up, hovering over the bathroom sink. The warm metal brushed against her fingertips, then, she slowly picked up the scissors. Lai closed her eyes, and held her breath, she then took her first chop. The tension from her holding onto her thick hair released, and she opened her eyes. Staring at her reflection, a grin grew on her face as she hesitantly took the next chop.
Before she knew it, her hair was getting shorter and shorter, but which each chop, her body began to ache. Without a doubt, she kept going until she got near her desired cut. On her last section of hair, Lai decided to turn away from the mirror and close her eyes. The rusty pair of scissors rigidly cut through the last piece of hair, as Lai's anxiety about the cut all went away.
“Finally,” she said in relief, “I did it.”
Lai opened her eyes to the flickering bathroom lights. Frantically looking around the bathroom to see what was wrong she noticed that the hair that was once on the floor slowly began to attach itself to her body. Her clothes began ripping, and her shoulders broadened. She tried screaming for help, but all that came out was muffled noise. Lai slowly turned around to face the mirror. Staring at what was once her reflection in disbelief, Lai saw what everyone was trying to warn her about:
The Wolf Cut.
"Desired Beauty" by Tian-Jiao Song
“Hello, I’m Mina.” Just those three words themselves are enough to bring chills to my spine. I stared up at the new student who greatly resembles the social media influencer version of me. Almost, too similar. No, not too similar, this girl has the exact same appearance as Aerith, a famous social media star on Instagram with 750K followers, greatly and widely known for having unique features that made her stand out amongst all the other models, celebrities and influencers. Truthfully speaking, Aerith is not exactly a real person but not a disillusionment either, she was created, edited and photoshopped by my editing skills and myself.
(Flashback) -- “ Prettiness engulfed with an unpleasant personality is just as ugly as a dark wilted rose.
At least that’s what I would always remind and convince myself to serve as a distraction from those sinister reverberating voices. The image of middle school girls harassing me in their taunting and mocking tones is still embedded in my memory. One would mistake them for bright red roses had they not known what’s behind those plastered smiles put on display. Back then I was judged for not looking like “one of them”, I remember wanting and wishing to achieve all those unrealistic beauty standards over my own authentic self. How mistaken I was now that a stranger appeared portraying the exact features as the alternate version of myself that I created.
“Aren’t you the famous social media star; Aerith? You know, you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.” I whispered quietly to her as the professor lectures the class about cellular biology. She rolled her obsidian blue eyes at me and gave me a resting face that shows she’s completely disregarding what I said. “You should be careful of what you’re saying, I can expose you and imagine what would happen if everyone knows about your true self. Nothing like that illusion you created for others to believe online..” With an evil laugh, Mina stands up from her seat and heads toward the exit of the classroom. The strange thing is that her silhouette passed through the glass doors almost as if she were a translucent ghost wandering aimlessly to another dimensional world.
Jane Doe is Who? By Matyana Vilaipone
It has been days, weeks, months, years... heck I lost count. Ever since the day I got my first ever Jane Doe case, it’s been like a Final Destination movie. With the serious, cold face I have while speedingly writing this down, I am a hundred percent having those visions Alex had. I would see a woman, dressed in a light tan puff sleeve dress paired with some polished black ankle strap. She wore a bucket straw hat, the one’s farmers would wear, but with a large white
bow complimented her lovely smile. There was a group of luggage near her feet, one by one put inside a black car with tinted windows. Blew me a kiss goodbye and murmured under her breath “I’ll be back. soon.” I would see her every time
I take a nap after work, repeating the same version after another. Today, the office gave off an unsettling atmosphere. Papers rustling harsher than usual, coworkers whispering about
someone’s mother, and others having the energy to accomplish a good 5 minutes of eye contact with me. This whole situation made no sense. I was the coworker who did my part and left once my shift was over. I sat at my table, organizing my folder to which one’s are done, and which need to be dealt with. “Detective Lee please report to Chief Renny’s office. I repeat Detective Lee please report to Chief Renny’s office.” the intercom never announces my name...
When I got up, all eyes were pointed to me, all kept whispering. I didn’t know what to do. Sure, I did some good deeds with my work, but these eyes weren’t praising me. They were feeling sorry...for me? Walking into that office, I heard a line no detective wants to hear. “Sorry son. I need to take you out for the Jane Doe case. This is for your own good.” Chief Reeny confessed with such sorrowful eyes. Which I have never seen before. All this time, I used my countless energy for nothing. I tried my hardest to be put back on the case (the altercation lasted for an hour), yet was told to go home and rest? What do I need rest for? I am perfectly fine... which is why I did
some digging and found out it’s because of a piece of evidence for MY case. I will get a hold of it tonight. No workers and no janitor would be there. Just me and that piece of evidence in my hand.
See you later, future Lee. Good luck. *End of Lee’s journal*
Detective Lee bolted to the department that night with such horrendous eye bags. Regardless of his physical state, has high hopes to see justice written on that paper.
It was pitch black; halls empty just like he planned. He recalled the paper being in the Chief's office, yet not exactly knowing where the paper is placed at. He ransacked the whole office, but with class. Every object he picked up; he would put it back in the right place. Ten minutes pass, then an hour and then four. Right when the sun began to rise, he found it. The piece of evidence he’s been craving for. The first words that came out of his mouth caught him in a chokehold, weeping uncontrollably were...
“Name: Kate Lee.”
“Children: Christopher Lee.”
“...ma-ma-mom i-i-it w-a-was yo-u?” the words that were stuttered, in disbelief by Lee.
