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Never Walk Down Wire Street At Midnight

A myth submitted to the site by Master Chief

London, wire street, England

Never walk down Wire Street at midnight, that's what my gran told me. It's a chilling place if there ever was. If you take a step out the door to put the milk bottles out, then you wish you'd never woken up.

There was this one guy called John Pace who never took any notice of anything scary or frightening, he just said "What are you doing?" When the neighbourhood kids jump out with a creepy mask on. But one night when he left the house to get some bread for a midnight snack he was going to be out for a long time...a very long time indeed...

It all starts when one night he jumps out of bed and runs down the stairs to make a midnight snack when he finds that there is no bread for a sandwich, so he pops on his shoes and starts walking down the street to the 24/7 corner shop. All of a sudden, all the street lamps, lamps in windows and the shop light die out. He squints his eyes to see. He glimpsed movement in the old alleyway.
“It's nothing” He whispered to himself. He popped through the door of the shop.
“Hello, Mr Pace. What brings you out this late at night?” Said the old man at the counter in a sleepy voice.
“Loaf of bread. What a horrible time to come out, eh?” Groaned John. As he was paying the old man, he looked up suddenly and looked like he had seen a ghost.
“You couldn’t go walking around these parts at this time” His voice was different. Not his usual old weary voice, but a slow deep almost evil voice. John took a step back.
“Never walk down Wire Street at midnight”
Something about this last sentence was strange and eerie. It did not sound like a suggestion, more of a threat.
“What an earth are you talking about you stupid man” John yelled. The yelling seemed to make the old man wake up more. “Sorry, Mr Pace, what were you saying?” At this John stormed out of the shop without the bread.

While he walked down the street, cursing, he noticed the fog was much more thicker and more cold then earlier. “What a-” A lot of the time when John speaks, he swears. So I have to cut off the word as there are children reading this. Let's carry on the story. “-horrible fog this stupid street gets!” His voice was load but it came out in a sort of whisper. There was that movement in the old alleyway again. “W-w-who's there?” Yet again, his voice came out in a whisper. John caught sight of a figure in a long hooded cloak. The hooded figure started to walk slowly towards John. John tried to run but his feet were glued to the floor. He soon realised that the figure had friends, eight at the most. They all walked closer to John.
“Who are you people?!” John whimpered. They reached inside their long, black cloaks and pulled out knives.
“Please! Have mercy!” John yelled out and managed to run but it was to late, The first figure grabbed his arm and pulled him back. They started humming a strange creepy hum.
“Oh great God of Sacrifice! We offer you another soul to stop the hunger!”
The cold and eerie voice came from one of the figures which John guessed as their leader. “Please! Somebody help me!” The fog was so thick that it blocked out the screams as the figures moved in for the sacrifice for the gods...

By Master Chief
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