Before my grandpa passed away he told me a story that forever scared him. Even with me not being there this story gives me goose bumps. The location was in the woods to where he lived in the house that he passed away in. He stayed in that house for 36 years. And this ghost story happened 34 years ago.
There was a party going on through the wood and they were shooting fireworks (there was a big clearing in which they set up the fireworks). It was a costume party but one of his friends decided to bring fireworks for his son and daughter's amusement, "They were illegal fireworks," my grandpa laughed.
Eventually the firework display began, and everyone was in awe as the sky was lit up by various, brilliant colors. My grandpa, who experienced fireworks for his whole life, smiled and turned away to get his drink behind grandma. But something caught his eye in the woods.
He put his drink down and walked slowly towards the woods. No one was paying him any attention, so he was on his own with a small pocket knife and a small hand gun.
While walking towards the wood, he pulled out his gun, took off the safety, cocked it, and held it so he could aim. He kept it steady as he walked.
The fireworks were his light and they were like a mini sun. In the corner of his eye he saw movement. Thinking it was an animal of some sort; he pointed his gun in that direction and treaded quietly. What he saw made him lower is gun, his mouth drop, and goose bumps crawl all over him.
He saw what looked like to be a woman. This woman was wearing a long, big dress that you would see 19th century women wore. She was laughing and had this evil, dark smile that bleed through her curtain of black hair. In her hands, she was dragging this blood covered blonde haired women with her dress cut off at the mid waist. The goose bumps settled in when grandpa realized that... The blonde woman was dead... And cut... In half.
Chills crept over him as he saw the huge line of blood that followed those two women. He followed it with quickness in his eyes and saw that the blood line went through where they were shooting the fireworks.
Not thinking he took aim, and emptied his rounds at the black haired women. But they vanished when the sound of his gun and firework's sound waves collided.
Even after his passing I refused to go into the woods that my grandfather refused to go in after that chilling night. It is a true story. The man I admired and showed no fear grew white with terror as he told the story.