Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Oct 5, 2016

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween! 25 Nights Left! "It's always the one guy,"

Kiona'ole Road:

“There’s always the one guy that has to prove that all of this is bullshit,” I told the police officer.

“I understand, but can you tell me again exactly what happened?” Officer Bruce asked.

“I explained to the my group that the road on the other side of the fence was haunted by the ghost of a crazed killer who hung his victims from the top of the fence and disemboweled them alive,” I began.

“Okay, go on,” officer Bruce said.

“And that it’s been proven that this story is not a made up lie and before I knew it, this guy jumps on the fence and starts climbing,” I said.

“You didn’t try to stop him?” Officer Bruce asked.

“Liability,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Alright, and then?” The officer went on.

“And then, next thing you know he’s on the other side of the fence telling his friends and everyone else in the group that the story is rubbish and that I’m full of shit,” I answered.

“And something or someone hung him on the fence and cut him open? Is that it?” Officer Bruce was tired but he was still pushy.

“Forty people told you what happened because they saw it, just like I did. I stayed on this side of the fence where you and I are, because the sign says, “NO TRESPASSING” So, I obeyed the law and didn’t trespass,” I stated.

“So, forty of them and you included, are saying that some invisible psycho ghost noosed that guy and yanked him up to the top of the fence, hung him to death and cut him open and spilled his guts out?” The officer was visibly upset.

I leaned in closer so I could make a point, “He’s still up there hanging by his neck, but tell me, do you see a noose?”

The officer directed the beam from his flash light to the top of the ten foot fence and suddenly turned white as a sheet. Indeed, the man on my ghost tour hung there by some invisible cordage because there was nothing around his neck and nothing tied to the fence. It was almost as if he were floating there with his lower intestines hanging from a huge gaping wound in his abdomen, while a seeping pool of blood gathered on the old pavement below him.

“Nobody listens,” I told the officer.

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