The Scariest Night of My Life



Would you like to hear a story? It’s about the scariest night of my life. A night I will never truly forget.

The date of the incident was a cold September evening. I was lying on my sofa all wrapped up in blankets, enjoying a peaceful documentary on the creatures of the Amazon rainforest. The soothing voice of the British narrator was lulling me to sleep, yet just as I found myself about to drift off, my stomach let out a mighty growl, and I felt a wave of hunger pass through my body. I sighed and pressed the pause button on the remote. A quick snack, and I would be straight to sleep.

Reluctantly, I pried myself from the warmth of the sofa cushions and made my way to the kitchen. My throat was parched, and the tap water tasted heavenly as I slurped it down straight from the faucet. I approached the fridge, placing a hand on its cold, metal handle and opening it with a firm pull.

A burst of terror seized my mind. I froze, simply staring with buggy eyes. Time stopped. I could barely comprehend what I was seeing.

Sat on the middle shelf was a decapitated human head, with the most twisted grimace I had ever seen. Its eyes bulged sickeningly from its skull, pupils pointed to me, and its teeth were brown and rotted. But the smile was the worst by far. It stretched from ear to ear, unnaturally wide, striking fear deep within my soul. For a moment, I swore it twitched its nose, veins pulsating from its forehead.

I ran outside screaming. It was days before I could force myself to go back to the house, and even then, I couldn’t sleep for weeks. From that day on, whenever I opened the fridge, I tensed up inside, awaiting that horrific smile like it had waited for me. It was stained in my mind permanently, and even today, a decade on from the experience, I still shiver with dread thinking about what happened.

Out of all the severed heads I had amassed over the years, none of them had ever smiled before.