I never believed in vampires, until one fateful night...
We were in Whitby, staying at a hotel with my friends. We laughed and told ghost
stories and had feasts. Only one thing wasn't right. The day we arrived a man hidden
under a black cloak. He had jumped out of the shadows and proclaimed
"thirteen, never shall you open the door, if you are to escape with your life!" and
with that he vanished.
We tried to put it out of our minds, but it just kept nipping
at the back of our minds, like a vampire! We were staying in room number 14, but we
passed twelve, and on the other side was 14, 13 didn't exist! The others forgot but
That night I had a dream. One number kept appearing over and over again,
13, 13... THIRTEEEN! I woke. I don't know what possessed me to do it but I went into
the corridor, and there was number 13. I opened it and screamed. Dracula himself
sat, crouched in the darkness, blood still dripping from his knife-sharp teeth. I
tried to run but I was too late, I was dead. And to this day I haunt Whitby,
searching for my killer, searching for my next kill.
So heed this warning, if you go
to Whitby, stay away from thirteen, don't do what I did. Take caution, take garlic,
otherwise, I might have just found my next meal! Oh, and look behind you, make sure
I havenít found you yet. Be afraid, very afraid.