Bogleech.com's 2018 Horror Write-off:
I’m a lonely guy. I… uh… was a kissless virgin (kv) at the start of this tale. Listen, I’m not one of these incel fucks. I absolutely hate incels and think women should have equal rights and protections and shouldn’t have to be with you just because you’re a “nice guy.”
I just realized that first paragraph makes it seem like I’m overcompensating for something. Oh fuck. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.
Anyway, one day, I heard about this one spooky haunted house that was a few train stops away. I’ve always been curious about the supernatural. I’m not religious and I’m very much an atheist (I still respect you if you are religious or believe in some form of God. Please don’t hate me.), but I’ve always felt that there had to be something “more” out there, something. I mean, scientists are always talking about how there has to be alien life somewhere in the universe and shit, and I don’t know, I just really feel like I’m not of this Earth sometimes, like I’m just really abnormal. Maybe it’s because I was always a big nerd that watched Jurassic Park every day. I never really did well with making friends or dating or just being a normal part of society. I just feel like an outsider all of the time.
So I took the train one weekend, looking forward to the haunted house. I got off at the train stop and walked for a few blocks until I reached the house. It looked pretty spooky.
I walked up to the house. I rang the doorbell. No answer. Oh. Okay. I guess I’m just going to leave like a respectful, “normal” person.
Suddenly, it seemed a lot darker. A lot darker outside. It was somehow late evening. Wait. Didn’t I leave at 1 pm? It wasn’t that late. It was only a few train stops. What the fuck is this nonsense? It was like I was in some kind of creepypasta or something. That would actually be pretty interesting, but how could such a thing be possible?
Oh fuck! Some pale ghost girl came out of the house!
“Hey, uh, ghost girl?” I asked.
“Hello, my name is Ingrid! Please don’t leave!” said pale ghost girl, er, Ingrid.
“Hey, Ingrid, you’re like a real ghost or something?” I asked.
“Yes, I died a hundred… uh maybe like, a hundred three years ago,” said Ingrid.
Ingrid and I hung out. She showed me secret passageways throughout the haunted house. There was a spooky library with old and dusty books!
She showed me how she could make shit levitate. She could probably beat Yoda in a fight. I mean, this was some cool shit.
Oh yeah, I guess if she’s haunting the house, she must have unresolved issue, right? I wondered, could she be a kv club member like myself???
I slept in the haunted house.
I woke up.
It was day.
I wondered how much time had passed. I looked for Ingrid. Gone.
I decided to wait outside the house for a bit, but my tummy was grumbly. I decided to get some breakfast. I went to a local diner. It was okay, I guess. They overcooked the eggs a little, but it was okay.
I came back to the haunted house. Still bright out. No Ingrid. I frowned. Was that the last I would see of her?
I took the train home. I admit that I cried a little bit on the train.
I felt even more alone than ever. I witnessed something amazing and no one would ever believe me.
The next day, I went back to the haunted house.
“Ingrid!” I yelled. I really wanted to see her again.
“I want to have intercourse with you, flesh-boy,” said Ingrid. She was back!
I got a bit tingly. Oh, man. Was this it? Was this my destiny? Losing my virgin seed to a dead woman? To be honest, I didn’t care. I was in love, or at least, I thought I was in love with Ingrid.
“Ingrid, I’m in love with you. I think I want you too,” I said.
We had sex. Don’t ask me to explain how I can fuck the incorporeal, you fucking weirdo. Just kidding. She wasn’t always incorporeal during sex. Just sometimes incorporeal during sex.
“Ingrid, I feel weird. Is it healthy to have sex with ghosts?”
“Well, I might have impregnated you,” responded Ingrid.
“WHAT?!?” I exclaimed.
“Ghost girls impregnate non-ghost boys,” said Ingrid. “I guess I should have said that, uh, like, before, lol.”
“LOL?!?” I yelled angrily. “I’m gonna be a daddy? Can I get a ghost abortion?”
“I don’t know. I only know as much as I just told you,” whimpered Ingrid.
“So what’s gonna come out? Half alive/half dead?” I asked. Damn. That sounded kind of stupid when I said.
“I’m really sorry,” cried Ingrid. “I really messed up.”
“No. Ingrid… I... listen, I, I love you, Ingrid. If I have the baby can we live together in this house and raise the half alive/half dead baby? This kid… this kid’s gonna have secret passages and cool ass libraries and shit!”
This pregnancy hurt like hell. Having a ghost baby is some insane shit, folks.
So ghost babies don’t come out of vaginas and they’re really not like regular babies. A ghost C-section was performed by Ingrid on me. It was pretty good and I actually started cumming… oh fuck! What the fuck!
“I’m cumming! Ghost cum! I have ghost cum!” My penis was engorged. It contorted. It was the worst piercing pain I have ever felt. My penis looked like Super Buu from Dragon Ball Z. Big pink veiny mass. I was bleeding out of my dick. Please stop laughing at me.
My cum turned into a creature. A ghoul. Semen ghoul.
Ingrid and I named him “Alan” after my favorite Jurassic Park character.