ok. um. ahem. Spooky story. I’m just improvising this as i go (this is made up)
Once there was a man named Malcolm. He lived an ordinary life in an equally ordinary suburban house.
Now, one thing you should know about Malcolm is that he was a doormat of a man. A very, very extreme doormat. Metaphorically speaking, he let people walk all over him. His friends would always be dragging him along to things, and some of his ‘friends’ would take advantage of his meekness.
On one perfectly regular night, Malcolm was in his basement, looking for something. What he was looking for exactly isn’t important. What you need to know is, the basement was a very humid area, and hadn’t been properly maintained in a while. So, as Malcolm was searching every nook and cranny, he happened upon something.
Nestled in a corner was a small, shriveled leech. The thing looked like it was barely clinging to life. Malcolm was very tired, as the previous day, he didn’t get any sleep as his friends just kept inviting him to things. As the thing writhed and twitched, Malcolm’s tired brain took pity upon it.
He picked it up and brought it up to his kitchen, and then took out a kitchen knife, making a small prick on his thumb with the tip. He then offered the thumb (now with a drop of blood coming out of it) to the leech. The creature immediately began sucking at his thumb.
Malcolm smiled to himself. However, his smile quickly faded when the leech wouldn’t stop sucking at his thumb. But he didn’t want to do anything about it.
As I mentioned, Malcolm was too scared to do anything about it. So, he let the leech suck at his thumb. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just some blood from his hand. It’s not like he’ll die or anything. So, he just shrugged and decided he’d go to sleep. He was tired, it was dark outside, and the issue would resolve itself by morning, or at least that’s what Malcolm figured.
When he awoke the next morning, however, he saw that the leech had not stopped greedily sucking his blood out. His hand felt clammy and numb, except for… the feeling of something inside of his skin.
And the feeling of something hatching inside of his skin.
And the feeling of something wriggling inside his skin.
Then, suddenly, another leech burst out of his arm and started sucking. And another. And another.
Until there were several ugly, pitch black leeches feeding off of his left arm.
But Malcolm didn’t do anything about it.
‘They’re just trying to eat’ he told himself. ‘I don’t want to interrupt them’.
So he kept allowing them to feed on him. And they kept laying eggs inside his arm (slowly spreading to the rest of his body) and attaching themselves to him and swimming inside him. Over time, the leeches grew bigger and fatter with his blood.
All Malcolm did was stare down at the leeches, cold sweat running down his forehead and a nervous smile on his face.
At one point, when the leeches had reached his neck, it reached a point where it would be highly unrealistic for even the most extreme of doormats to not attempt to put an end to the situation. So that’s what Malcolm tried to do. He reached over at the leeches and attempted to pull them off of him. They wouldn’t remove themselves.
Then, there was a slimy, wet sensation in his right ear.
And something pushing his way into his ear.
And oozing around inside his head.
He could feel it. He could feel the leech. It was making direct contact with his brain. The leech latched onto his brain and laid its own eggs inside.
Malcolm could do nothing but scream as he felt his brain bleed from the inside out, from all of the leeches sucking at it. He screamed and screamed until he went insane.
Two weeks later, some of Malcolm’s friends came over to his house. They were a mixture of annoyed and worried. He hadn’t been responding to their texts and calls, and some of them thought that he was brushing them off.
When they entered the house, there was an eerie silence. The entire place felt uncomfortably still.
There was nothing left to find.
They looked everywhere for Malcolm. They searched the entire house, put up missing posters, called the police.
The police were stumped. The case went cold. To this day, no one has any leads on the disappearance.
No one truly knows what happened to Malcolm.
No one except a horde of enormous, bloodied leeches.
(was that scary story good? I hope you liked it)
when i saw the name malcolm i thought itd be malcolm in the middle
