The Mill

Sometimes, creepy stories don't have to make sense. There is no punchline in the end about a murder or ghosts... just plain eerie or weird events that simply are there and not to be tempered with. This little text is about such an event. Or, more specific, such a place.
I was born and raised in Dortmund, Germany, before my parents decided to move out to the country. The exact name of the village I live in now doesn't matter, but it's pretty quiet and close to nature which I've grown to like by now. Not far away, about ten minutes by foot, lays a water mill that is avoided by most of the people who live here for a certain time. There were no murders there, no accidents, nobody did as much as break his small toe in that mill... but for some reasons, people have an uneasy feeling about it.
First of all, electronic devices don't work in there. No magnetic field or anything, they just don't go on. Or turn off as soon as you get over the doorstep of this curious place. Next to one of the windows, someone once wrote "October is coming" on the wall in a thin, edgy handwriting, but nobody knows why, nor what those words exactly mean. It doesn't harm anyone though and remains on the walls, nobody bothering to wash it off.
Of course, people keep the mill in good nick. Not too long ago, the mills wheel got replaced and it got a fresh coat of paint to keep it nice for some of the tourists who happen to visit this small place. Also, some locals have their meetings there for nothing bad ever happened in the mill... and the air of uneasiness and for some people fright can be drowned in alcohol and company.
However, people who slept in the mill tell different tales.
It is a common test of courage among the young folks of this village to spend a night in the mill. I had to do it too of course, being a newcomer around. It wasn't too bad at first, but as soon as I got to sleep, things got weird.
At first I just dreamed a normal, quiet and peaceful dream about traveling along a small river. Soon however, I lost control over my feet and waded into the water, which quickly sucked me in like a vacuum. Soon I felt the cold, heartless stream fill my lungs, I tried to scream, but nothing but silver pearls came out of my mouth... and then I woke up, dry as a bone, but huffing like I just made it to the shore.
Everyone who slept in the mill has had similar dreams. Everyone knows that, no one denies it. Several occultists and even priests have been here, unable to find anything that would explain such dreams. No leftovers, no dark rituals, no corpses. Nothing. But besides a night of bad dreams and maybe a day of bad temper, nothing bad ever came from this. Well, apart from Heinrich of course. He was a scaredy cat even before taking this test of courage his "friends" had talked him into. But he had never been the same ever since. He developed a serious case of Thalassophobia, the fear of being in the ocean. It remains unexplained why though, for Heinrich never talks about this and is perfectly fine with the local sea and rivers, working at the local filter plant.
That's about all I know about this place. It's nothing quiet as scary as cursed videogames, cackling lunatics slitting up your throat or anything like that. But it is out there and it remains unexplained. It's real. And maybe that makes up for it being a boring story... at least a little bit.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Dreams
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Old Shit