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I've got a story for you!
The Storyteller: EKG {Humanform}
The story begins:
EKG wrapped his tail around the chair he was sitting in, and leaned forward to to the two kits curling up near the fireplace on the floor. He had a smile on his face, and was considering carefully the whole request. The kits wanted a scary story? Well... he had one.

"How would you kids like to hear a true story? This happened to me one year when I had just FIRST come to this city. I left to escape someone, but that's not all that important. What is important, is what happened one night while I was walking to my new home. Even today, there's a building really nearby where I live. It's been slated to be demolished for ages now. But there were rumors, in the beginning, and I wanted to check them out."

He leaned back in his chair, and continued the story.

"So, one night when I got off my shift, I headed over to that place. The reason I went inside was mostly to dispel the fantastical rumors about this building. That it was haunted, that there was someone living there, that there was buried treasure under the foundation. All of that being said about one old building, right? Can you imagine?"

EKG chuckled darkly, and went on, leaving his chair, and getting on the floor with the kits.

"Well, I went inside. It didn't seem like much. It had started raining outside as I went in, though - so it was a good opportunity to explore and escape the rain all at once. The first place I went was up the stairs. Each stair creaked terribly as I climbed upward. Even the floorboards squeaked. And I SWORE I could hear someone whispering. Not anything distinct, not anything I could make out. I shrugged it off as just the wind, and kept exploring the house."

He took a drink of water he had beside him, and looked at both the kits, sitting crosslegged down, and letting the firelight play with the shadows on his face. Atmosphere was half of storytelling.

"Inside the first couple of rooms, there really wasn't much of anything. The wallpaper inside was peeling, and there were a couple old child's beds. Nothing much else. The next two rooms had a large panting each, one over a dilapidated bed, and the other somehow knocked off the wall, and lying on the floor. In this room, though - I caught something out of the corner of my eye. An old doll. Of course, ignoring everything everyone's ever told me about being careful and cautious, I went to pick up the doll, and look at it.
It was definitely old. It was a male doll, judging by the old sort of tailcoat that it had been dressed it. It was also handmade, and some of the stitching was starting to come off. I thought it would be a waste to leave it there when it was in okay condition to begin with, so I pocketed the doll, and started out of the room. Suddenly, in a broken mirror, I caught sight of something. Just for an instant - one brief moment. It LOOKED like there was something looking at me, standing in front of that mirror. I turned around quickly to confront whoever was in here, but there was nothing there. Only the old mirror reflecting the room."

The humanform Noodle too another drink, and broadly waved his hand to begin the next part of the story.

"The place itself was HUGE. I spent the better part of an hour exploring it. There were at least six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a huge kitchen, a dining area, a huge livingroom, and high, vaulted ceilings in the entire place. There was an old rope ladder at the end of the hallway upstairs, and I climbed up to the attic with some caution. It was freezing cold up there - which was odd, since it was in the middle of summer. Actually, most of the house had a chill. I figured it was just the nature of old places. Once I had climbed up into the attic, on my hands and knees, I started to hear that SOUND again, that whispering sound. But it was more clear, more distinct. I thought I could hear a word in it, too. 'Forever'. It seemed an interesting phrase to be hearing in the wind, so I ignored it. But still, as I crawled toward the other edge of the attic, it kept going. 'Forever', it said. 'Forever. Forever. Forever.'"

He paused, and readjusted himself on the floor, getting low so that he was on even level with the kits.

"I continued on across the attic with that voice in the wind echoing around my ears. 'Forever. Forever'. When I got to the other end of the attic, I saw an old box. One of those kind that you used to stick photos and keepsakes in a long time ago. It was made of wood, and a little bit dusty, but it did open on the first try, as it wasn't locked. I was thinking to myself that, whoever had left this doll here, might have left some clue to who they were in that box, so I reached carefully into it. I didn't have a light, so I couldn't see what I was grabbing. The minute my hand reached halfway into the box, that little whisper 'Forever', became a SHOUT right next to my ear!"

Pausing again, he took a sip of water before continuing.

"'FOREVER! FOREVER! STAY WITH US FOREVER!' it shouted, right next to my ear. I went to turn and look, but there was nothing there! I could hear laughter all around me, and when I tried to draw my hand back, there was something grabbing it! I couldn't see anything at all, but I felt a HAND, a child's hand, grabbing my wrist, and refusing to let go. I pulled and I pulled my hand, but they didn't let go, then suddenly..... It went dead still. The shouted was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and my hand responded to my frantic tugging, sending me to the floor with the force of it. Needless to say, I quickly exited the building, climbing back down the ladder and stairs as quickly as I could... But when I got to the door... it was locked. Without any visible locks, the door just would NOT open. I heard more laughter, too, all around me. Children's laughter."

He went deadpan, and looked at the children.

"Eventually, the door opened. I RAN out of that house as fast as I could. But SOMETHING followed me. I had forgotten to return the doll. As a matter of fact... "

Another pause, as he drew something out of his pocket. It was a small, old-fashioned rag-doll, hand-sewn with a tailcoat and black breeches. The button eyes stared menacingly up at the ceiling, and the hand-sewn mouth had a small smile.

"I still have it. And every so often, when I'm trying to fall asleep... I'll hear that laughter again, I'll hear little footsteps..."

And indeed, the children would hear tiny footsteps running all around, behind them, and the giggle of a little boy, unseen.

"And sometimes, if I'm not listening TOO closely, I'll hear the whisper of a child lost in time... a whisper I'll never forget."

The kits would hear a very faint 'Forever. Forever. Stay with me Forever' coming from behind them, before both footsteps and voice faded away into nothing.

I've got a story for you!
The Storyteller: Jayy Von Monroe
The story begins:
"A scary story huh? I suppose I can whip up something..." The demon purred, shadowy figures dancing on the walls as a means of prematurely scaring the kits encircled at his feet.
"Or better yet, I can tell you the truth. Of what used to lurk here, within the confines of the shops reaches." His gaze passed them over, sizing each one up in turn and leaving his gaze longest on the one seeming the most excited, smirking as a shiver passed over it.
"I know of a noodle, he never seems to bother anyone outside of his mate, and he carries a book." A kit was piping up, but a quick blaze set at his little paws had him hushed and wide-eyed in a flash.
"Let me finish... now, you may think a book is nothing to fear... but that's only because you've never looked inside it."
He paced to the basement door, resting a paw on the knob.
"Yes, it was much like the basement, his torture chamber..."
"Torture...?"
"...Chamber?"

He raised a brow at the two kits, a nerve noticeably agitated, but he continued, "He would find anyone who was alone, anyone who seemed like they wouldn't be missed... and he would drag them into the depths of his basement, where not even their screams of torture would be heard from above."
He dragged his paw from the doorknob to the wall, scratching as he went, "But, you see, he didn't just leave it at torture, no. He took pictures of what he did to their bodies, to their blood.. and he stored it in his little book. Picture after picture of decapitated and disemboweled noodles; noodles made into art or noodles skinned and left alive."
A kit gulped loudly, and Jayy glanced over his shoulder, a smirk dancing on his lips, "He kept much more than pictures in his book. There were little pieces from every noodle he'd toyed with, stapled or glued or taped within the pages; after a time, the book was so heavy with blood that the pages were all tinged in dark red... even the ones he had yet to get to."
He stepped towards them now, watching with glee as they seemed to cringe away from him, "And this noodle is still around, you know. He's still alive, and he still does what he intends to do with those caught alone outside the safety of their home."
A scream in the distance had all the kits running in different directions, most likely to the nearest adult, and Jayy grinned wickedly.
It was advantageous, being a demon with these powers of his.
He glanced at a nearby bookshelf, scanning the titles and stopping at the beat-up composition book at the very end of the row, the edges of it both worn from age and a dark brown color.
He should really talk to that guy about keeping that thing out of the wrong paws....
He smirked....
Like his.

I've got a story for you!
The Storyteller: Ace Cooper
The story begins:

Ace placed his pen upon the table and faced the trio of kits sitting eagerly before him. Where they had come from, he hadn't the slightest clue, but the witchling had an aura that struck a keen nerve within him, a nerve meant for similarities. He smiled an amused sort of smile and moved towards them, only to flash a toothy grin towards them. As predicted, the demon boy and the skeleton boy shrunk back, while the witchling girl reciprocated his unorthodox greeting. To this he paid a chuckle and a pat to her head, before wandering over to where he kept his prized collection of books.

"I suppose you're here for a scare, aren't you?" He inquired, tugging a large, dark book from the very top corner of the shelf. "It is the week of Halloween, the perfect time for a terror or two." He trotted back over to the trio and plopped the book before the witchling girl. "I, in my old age, dearies, like to uphold a small tradition of sorts. If there be a lady amongst those who wish to listen to the terrible tales within my favorite book, she has the rights to pick a number from one to two hundred fifty three."

The witchling girl ruffled her muzzle, pondering just what number to pick, and glanced up to the ceiling. Thunder clouds took hold outside the windows while she took her time mulling over each possible number, and a spark of lightning flashed in the distance, just as a wide, devious grin came to her features. "Thirty two, sir, I pick page thirty two." She said, rather confidently.

"Excellent choice, my dear." Ace replied, flipping the book open straight to page thirty two. "This is one of my top three, a delightful fright if you should indulge me on that. Shall we begin?"

"What's it about, mister?" The skeleton boy asked, his tail curling around his feet.

Ace smirked and shook his head towards him.
"Let us be quiet, now, and you shall find out." He said, before turning his eyes to the book. "Let the story begin..."

"There was a village upon a hilltop, north of a lengthy cobblestone path. It was a quaint, serene area filled with young folk and old folk alike, who got along well in the peacefulness of it all. In particular, there was a home, where children lived under the care of nannies and nurses all day long, for they were orphans, and that's where they belonged. The children were happy, to say the least, and well kept and looked after to the best possible extent. Not one could complain, not even the smallest orphan, Adeline.

Adeline was a bright haired, freckled hodgepodge of a child that graced the halls of the orphanage with a smile and song. Everyone adored her and her long, tumbling curls that draped around her chubby heart shaped face like elegant frosting around the edges of a wedding cake. She often jumped upon command from the others, just so they could see those curls bounce two and fro, it was one of their more odd sources of amusement.

But, there was one child who did not take delight in Adeline's charm and cheer, a greedy girl called Maybel. Maybel's parents had abandoned her upon the slopes of the mountains upon the other side of the cobblestone path, never to be seen again. The separation was shattering to Maybel and caused her to steal out of grief for herself, something that caused her to lose many a friend behind the orphanage walls. Maybel saw Adeline as pompous and perfect, and spent most of the day trying to devise ways to get rid of the curly haired girl whom everyone adored."

"Maybel sounds like a mean person!" The devil boy shouted. "I hope she gets hurt!"

"Oye, you're interrupting, that's impolite!" Ace barked, before sighing. "Now, then, where were we... Ah, yes!"

"Maybel had tried everything imaginable. Putting rat poison in Adeline's food, shoving the girl into walls, even getting her lost on very cold days in hopes she'd freeze to death, but nothing seemed to be working in her favor. Furthermore, each time Maybel tried to cause harm to Adeline, Adeline seemed to become more and more charming and beautiful to everyone else."

"What am I missing?" Maybel pondered one evening during suppertime. "I've done everything I can, and I've come up with nothing to show for it. What makes Adeline so impenetrable?" Copper colored eyes peered up towards Adeline, who sat smiling as usual from her seat across the table, and narrowed them sharply. "What are you smiling at?" She seethed."

"Adeline blinked, her eyes twinkling as she turned her attention towards Maybel, and stared quite blankly at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, almost as if she had sat on something uncomfortable, and leaned forward to tug on Maybel's sleeve. "I'm not smiling, Maybel." She whispered. "I know why you're so mad, it's okay, we can go home after supper."

Maybel was flabbergasted at Adeline's statement. What did she mean by 'they could go home after supper'? Was this some sort of trick? Did Adeline think she was some sort of idiot? Infuriated, Maybel decided that Adeline needed to be dealt with properly, and permanently. Before going to talk with Adeline one last time, Maybel snuck a knife away from the kitchen, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. No longer would she have to deal with Adeline and her charm, if she could just get the two of them alone.

It was midnight and the village was quiet, all except for the pitter patter of running feet upon the cobblestone path. Maybel had chased Adeline all the way to the edge of the village and onto the path, where she was quickly knocked down and slain by the blade which Maybel had stolen away. Adeline's curls were shaved and tossed aside, while her body was left to rot a little ways along. Maybel had successfully murdered the girl whom she envied and fell to her knees, consumed by sobs. Why, why did she feel so... Lost? So... Alone? Something still wasn't right! She glanced to where Adeline lay and gasped, Adeline... Adeline was standing right beside her!

"What?! I... Why aren't you dead?!" Maybel screamed. "I killed you! How are you still alive?!"

Adeline shook her head and pulled Maybel to her feet. The air between them seemed to turn cold, almost frost like, before they turned transparent. Then, Adeline took Maybel's hand and lead her toward the mountains.
"I told you that we would go home after supper, Maybel." Adeline said. "We stayed there too long, you forgot that we were already dead. Don't you remember the avalanche?"

Maybel paused, her eyes growing somber and deep. Now she remembered. The winter home, the avalanche, she... She was dead. A breathless sigh escaped her lips before she and Adeline finally vanished into the distance. Later on, in the spring time, the bodies of a missing family were uncovered from the melting snow that an avalanche left behind. A mother, a father, and two curly haired sisters, Maybel and Adeline. After that day, neither Maybel nor Adeline have graced the Orphanage's halls, and all the children who they knew have long since forgotten that they had ever been there."

As Ace finished the final line of the story, he peered towards the trio, and grinned at the witchling, who was already echoing his expression. The boys, however, were rather shaken and had clutched each other for comfort, something that caused Ace to chuckle. He slapped the book closed and placed it at his side.

"Wasn't that an interesting story?" He said, patting the kits upon their heads. "That ought to haunt you for quite a while, if I may say so." He padded towards the window and observed the growing storm outside, a devious smirk cloaking his features. "Who wants to go ghost hunting? It's a prime hour for doing so!"

"I do!" The witchling cried.

"NO WAY!" The boys cried, scampering underneath Ace's desk.

Ace and the witchling girl gave each other a look and began to cackle. Perhaps not, not at least until the effects of the story had worn off the two scardey cats cowering underneath the desk.

I've got a story for you!
The Storyteller: Chief Shrehifo
The story begins:Chief Shrehifo huffed he was not too thrilled he had to do this. He tried dealing with kids before, he even tried adopting one, but he wasnt successful, maybe scaring the pants off of a little sucker would be the best trick. He smirked, still not pleased he had to be the one to tell the story, he sat quite egar around the bright campfire.

He grinned around the campfire as little kits gathered around with their little costumes on. One little girl caught his attention the most, she was in a witch costume, maybe just maybe she could do magic like him. If not then he could really fix that. The red little boy devil caught his attention next, he could teach that little one his tricks, oh how this would be awesome.

As the last kit gathered around Chief Shrehifo stood up, and began to tell his story. "Long ago, there was a family who was blessed with two twin children. A daughter named Gretel and a son named Hansel. The two grew up happily and well adjusted, they were warned not to go into the forest bad things happen. One day her mother went missing, she was young and and most beautiful in all the land. This crushed her two young children that would never be able to see her again.

Gretel grew up strong and independent, she and her brother grew up as best as they could with out a mother. Gretel got a job at this local bakery, which had meat pies, cookies, pies, cakes and more. She was happy and was missing the one thing in her life. A mother.

Hansel and Gretel met their father at a local resturant. The father looked at them and said "Kids we are getting married! " Gretel's heart sunk, she was kinda happy but she wanted her father to be really happy. So she just smiled. Hansel on the other hand was angry, he stomped and moan and yelled. He told his father off and ran into the woods, where his thoughts could run free. He ran deep in the woods where him, his mother, and his sister, carved their names in a tree.

He was so pissed at the world that he just kept going farther into the woods. Suddenly...

CLINK

A metal bear claw chomps into his leg. He screamed in agony pain. It ripped into his flesh. The blood rushed out all over ground. The pain was gruel some that he couldn't move but just plainly sit there and and cry for help.

Meanwhile...Gretel went searching for her brother, she searched her house, his house, and then went out for the woods. She was scared that he was hurt or something worse. So the search was in full bloom for her brother. She went passed the tree where her mother carved their names in the tree. She smiled and went deeper into the woods. She heard his cries and ran closer to him. He was hurt really hurt and it was getting dark.

She helped him get out of the bear claw. She supported his weight and they went to the shimmering lights they seen in the distance thinking that was the highway. So they hobbled over there, and instead found a house. A little cottage in the woods. She knocked on the door and a little old lady opened up the door. It was her boss. She smiled at them and brought them in. She feed them cookies and milk. Her specialty. Her brother fell asleep on the couch from the pain and the medicine. She watched her brother and later fell asleep herself.

Her brother was taking to the basement, where the others were taking. The old lady's sons brought them donuts and more. This was to fatten them up. The boys soon left and came back about an hour later. They took a young girl nice and slightly plump and took her to the oven. The man took a butcher knife and sliced the leg to watch her squeal. She screamed in pain. The other man cut off her hair and bashed her in the back with a bat. She cried.

The guys then tied her up stuffed her with an apple in the mouth and lightly garnished the silver plate with lettuce and stuff. She was shoved in the oven and burned like a turkey on thanksgiving.

Meanwhile Gretel was offered to be the boss at the bakery. Gretel didnt want this job, she was flattered but wanted to get out of the town she was in. She was cut on the finger very hard from the paper and her blood dripped on the paper. This was her signature. She was now going to take over whether she liked or not.

Gretel searched for her brother and discovered a chest that wasnt a chest but a door way to the basement. She went downstairs and rescued her brother. This pissed off the witch that lived there she wanted them for dinner! Gretel helped her brother escape from the dungeon and out of the house.

The twins escaped into the woods. The witch is still searching for her next victims. If you see her, she is angry and has a chainsaw in her hand."

Chief paused and looked at the kids. He had his magic behind them forming an old lady with a chainsaw. His eyes widened with fear. "Oh NO! She found us! Look!"

The kits looked behind them and screamed with fear. All the kids ran away except one who clinged to chief. "Please protect me."

I've got a story for you!
The Storyteller: Matlacoatl
The story begins:Matlacoatl dug his paws into the earth, kneading slowly as he hunkered down to tell his tale. There was little consternation in his features over being cast into the temporary role of story teller, and in fact he seemed quite content to nestle in for a tale.

"There is a place, far away, that was used as a home for sick people," Matlacoatl began, his voice containing a gently educational air, as though teaching rather than telling a terrible tale. "These people did not have colds or sneezes, fevers or chills. They saw things that other people could not, whispered words others did not wish to hear, twitched from pain that should not have been felt. Some of them had even tried to cure themselves, with potions and powders that simply made their sickness worse."

There was sadness in his voice, heavy and sincere. "Worst of all, were the children. No bigger than yourselves, these children were bright and brilliant, if troubled by the things that they knew. There was a practice in this place, where healthy adults could come and adopt one of the sick children," Matlacoatl stated, yet despite the brightness of this practice, his voice actually seemed to grow darker. "It was a very low fee to get a child, but there was a policy in place that was truly terrible. You see," He told the children coldly, "If the people decided they didn't like their sick child anymore - they could bring them back."

It was abundantly clear that Matlacoatl did not approve of this practice at all, and his tail stirred dust as it twitched in the sand. "This happened to one little girl named Lily. She was a very special little girl who could talk to ghosts. That was her sickness you see. She was friendly to things others could not see. Imaginary friends that treated her kindly, such a sin," He mused, shaking his head. "A nice couple came and took Lily away from that place. For awhile, they liked her, but eventually, they got tired of her friends and decided to take her back - but Lily didn't want to go. Lily knew that there were scary ghosts in that place," Matlacoatl whispered, "Ghosts that had been there a long time, that she was afraid to talk to. She fought and fought against the couple as they dragged her back, and as they pulled her up the steps, the man let go of her hand and she fell."

Matlacoatl was very quiet, waiting until the little ones started to shift in discomfort, wanting to know what happened to Lily. "Lily hurt her head, and though the place was for sick people, they couldn't make her better. Lily died in that place," Matlacoatl said softly, "But that was not the last time she was seen there."

A cold wind blew in a most timely fashion, causing even Matlacoatl to shiver a bit in its wake. Shaking his head slightly, the large noodle continued on. "Not long after Lily died, the staff began to notice odd things. Balls bouncing down the halls by themselves. Stuffed bears walking on their own. Music boxes sounding in the middle of the night from empty rooms. The other little boys and girls insisted that it was all Lily, but the adults refused to believe. For nearly a year, they refused to believe - but then one of the scary ghosts Lily talked about began to make itself known."

Inching forward on his belly, Matlacoatl lowered his voice to a more spooky octave. "Down in the basement, where the sick adult women were taken to get their daily exercise, horrible screams would rip down the room. The area would get cold, so cold they could see their own breath and then - BANG!" He shouted, pounding a paw on the ground for emphasis. "The doors would slam, all on their own. Eventually, the place got so frightful that people stopped sending their sick there. It closed down after awhile and was empty for years, until it was bought by someone who wanted to restore it and make it pretty again. Though nearly sixty years had passed, and the place was crumbling, all of the ghosts and several more were still there. The screaming, the howling, the windows and doors opening and closing. The new owner decided to turn it into the biggest haunted house ever," Matlacoatl enthused, "Which was why I decided to go and visit," he confessed, his tone a mixture of eagerness and regret. "I was sure that it was all a bunch of myths and legends. I took the whole tour, listened to the stories without believing much. There was a room, full of toys that people had donated for Lily. As I walked through, I noticed that one of the music boxes had a mirror. Our guide told us that Lily was friendly and liked to play with others, but could be very mean if someone upset her. Going to the music box, I thought it might be funny to wind it while nobody was looking," He told them, grinning a bit at his own brattiness."When I leaned over," He said softly, leaning toward them, "I looked in the mirror and jumped back, because there, looking right at me, was a little girl. I looked behind me, but nothing was there. In the mirror, only the room. Then, I heard laughter, and little feet running, and I realized that the tour group had gotten away from me. I raced to catch up and, as we went through the places where the scary ghosts hid, I began to get nervous. We were all very cold by the time we finished, and I was happy to get away - but I looked back, one last time. And there, in the window, was little Lily," That didn't seem so bad, "Holding the hand of our tour guide."