Bogleech.com's 2013 Horror Write-off:
Submitted by Anonymous
When I was quite young, there was a small hill in the lot next to the house in which I lived. Every year the winter would blanket it in a thick snowfall, from the neatly plowed street all the way down to the picturesque forest at its bottom.
Every year, on the morning of the first snowfall, my brothers and I would rummage though the garage and pull out the old crazy carpets. They weren't much, just rolled up sheets of blue plastic, but they worked just fine.
My brothers were both older then I was, and we got along well, for the most part. I often had trouble getting myself positioned on the sled. The plastic sheet against the snow was not a particularly stable surface, and at that age my coordination was nothing to be proud of. My brothers held the sled steady while I shifted into place.
They asked if I was ready. I nodded in confirmation. With just a light push, I was off. The ride must of only lasted fifteen seconds or so, but it felt like so much longer. The cold wind flowed over my face, and the feeling of acceleration was exhilarating.
But then I reached the bottom.
I could barely breath. There was an infant looking down at me. Roughly fifteen feet tall, and made what looked like weathered fibreglass, with nicks and scratches and chipped paint. Like a horrible funhouse attraction at a decaying carnival.
The eyes weren't fibreglass. They were real.
The right eye, a massive orb, peering down at me. In the place of the left eye was a slick and oiled handlebar moustache, its tips groomed into impeccable curls, growing directly out of the skin that stretched over the infant's eye socket.
The left eye was in its mouth, lolling about unpredictably, as if it was suckling it between its puckered, unmoving lips.
I screamed. I could hear my brothers calling faintly in the distance, asking what was wrong.
They couldn't see it.