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Nick

The Shelter - Nick's Creepy Stories #1

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So, I'm bored and feel like something fun would be to troll the Internet for different scary stories you may or may not have heard before and post them, one a week.

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Three days ago, my last living grandparent, my mother's father passed away at the age of 89. He was a WWII vet, and my mom tells me that after returning home from the Navy, he was never quite the same. In factm he was pretty paranoid about nearly everything. I was never really allowed to stay at his house. In 1965, his wife died suddenly, with no real explanation. My mother tells me that my grandfather became extremely fearful of a nuclear was with the communists, and that he started to dig a bomb shelter out of the rock and limestone on his land. I had never seen the 'bomb shelter' until today, when the family was going through my grandfather's belongings. Pic related, it's the entrance.

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I had only ever asked my grandfather about his hand-dug cave one time in my life, which was when I was about 16 or so when we got together for Christmas. He didn't really seem to want to talk about it. He just told me to not ever go there, because, in his words, "It's just a damned _?_?_?_?_?_?." What the word in the blank was, I've never been able to figure out. No amount of Googling helped me determine what he said. All I know is it siunded like "ah Sioux air." The way he said it was creepy enough that I never asked about it again. This picture is a view back towards the door after you go down some steps.

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I hadn't even thought about the shelter since then until today, when my mother asked me to go and check it out and see if I could find anything worth putting into the estate sale. To be honest, I was pretty excited. I thought maybe I'd find old gas masks, non-perishable food items from the 60's, and maybe even some forms of old entertainment that he had planned to use to keep the family busy in the event of an attack. The picture is the first hallway, which curves off to the right at the end.

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The first thing I found was this rudimentary toilet. Of course, time wasn't kind to it, so there wasn't much left. It had obviously been in disrepair for years. I just snapped a picture of it and kept going. Although, I did have to admire the work that had to have gone into chipping away the rock, one heave at a time.

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But further down the hallway, I came to nothing more than a bunch of old rusted garbage on the floor. I instantly felt my heart sink, because I had such high hopes for what this exploration would yield. It was beginning to look like my grandfather had just given up at some point on his dream of crafting a shelter. Pic related, it's the garbage.

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But you'll notice that, in the previous picture, the hallway curves off to the left. I was expecting to hit a flat wall of rock, but instead, I found a huge, iron door that was padlocked shut. Fortunately for me, it had become rusted to all hell, so I was actually able to just pick up a decent sized rock off the floor and hit the padlock until it busted the entire loop it went though. Opening the door was another story though. It was extremely heavy and had become rusted shut over the years. I found a shovel back in the garbage heap and used all my strength to force it open with a lever action. Pic related, it's the view after I got the damn thing open.

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The only thing back here was a hallway that did abruptly end where he had stopped digging. But there was a doorway off to the right. I went through the doorway and inside this room looked more like a cavern than a bomb shelter. As I looked around, I noticed this fucking carving in the stone. At first I thought, "Oh, no big deal. Maybe he just came back here to pray or something." But that's when I started to notice that there were more carvings.

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Suddenly, I see this face, carved into the rock. There were faces everywhere. Seriously. It was as though there were a bunch of ghostly faces staring you down in that room. Pic related.

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And here's another example. I noticed that while the previous one appeared to be a soft, female face, this one was an angry, male face. And there were really quite a few of them, I don't know, probably six or seven. And they were all carved into the walls as though they were facing that cross carving... worshiping it or something.

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And then I saw this one. Unlike every single other carving in this room, which were faces, this one was clearly meant to be a skull. It seemed so out of place, since I felt that the rest of the room had religious connotations to it. Why was there a skull? Well, I found out soon enough.

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I happened to look down at the ground below the skull carving, and there, sitting in a bunch of concrete rubble, was a mother. Fucking. Bone. And don't get me wrong, I'm not just a fucking nancy. This was no deer bone. This was clearly a human bone. My heart was pounding out of my chest. As I started to look more closely, I saw more bones coming out of the concrete, as though human remians had been dumped in a batch of quick-dry cement or something. Then, I could have sworn I heard a quiet laugh from the corner of that room. And I fucking bolted. I ran out of that room like the devil was chasing me. I ran all the way out of the shelter, and all the way back to the house.

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Later after some recuperation, I finally figured out the word my grandfather told me. Ossuary.

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Enjoy!

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