WOW Scary Story Assignment

Name: ______Period: _____

WOW Scary Story Assignment

Directions: You will be using all of the Words of the Week in a scary story. Before you begin, define all of the words and identify the related forms. After you have done this, go to Google Classroom and open up the Google Doc entitled “WoW Scary Story.”

Acrimonious: ADJ: ______
ADV: ______
NOUN: ______
Ambiguity: NOUN: ______
ADJ: ______
ADV: ______
Blithe: ADJ: ______
NOUN: ______
ADV: ______
Eschew: VERB: ______
Garrulous: ADJ: ______
NOUN: ______
ADV: ______
Lugubrious: ADJ: ______
ADV: ______
NOUN: ______
/ WoW Scary Story /

Your Task:

Use one of the following three options as the opening for your scary story. Your story should be approximately one page long (size 12 font / typed double spaced). You must correctly use every WoW (or a related form) in your story.

Option #1:

We just wanted to explore the old house and take some artistic black and white photos of the cobwebs and abandoned furniture. We had no idea it would turn into a nightmare.

Option #2:

Cold and wet, tired and exhausted, they made their way along the path through the forest. It was almost nighttime.

Option #3:

The phone rang. "Hello," I said, "Hello." No one was there. I hung up. The phone rang again, just as the lights went out.

Sample WoW Scary Story

When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring the dusty corners of our home and blithely climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her “Mother” because she seemed so kind and nurturing.

“Mother” was never acrimonious, nor was she garrulous. In fact, she never spoke; she was just a benign presence in our lives. Her role was never ambiguous. It was quite clear—she loved and protected us. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we’d find a cup that hadn’t been there the night before. “Mother” had left them there, worried that we’d get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us.

Among the home’s original furnishings was an antique wooden chair which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, “Mother” would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she’d manage to move it all the way to the centre of the room. We always felt lugubrious about putting it back against the wall, so each of us eschewedthis task until one of our parents directed us to. We knew that “Mother” just wanted to be near us.

Years later, long after we’d moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse’s original occupant, a widow. She’d murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she hung herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse’s living room, with a woman’s body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

…Did it get colder in here, or is it just me?

The Red Claw

By Ms. Quinn

Halfway between Atlantic City and Philadelphia, there is an area known as the New Jersey Pine Barrens. Many people do not know its name. Driving home from the shore, they are too busy singing along to their music, garrulously chatting about the fun times they had, to notice the place around them. These are the lucky ones. In the Pine Barrens, it’s better to be blithely ignoring the scenery. Those who do notice what’s around them, those who stop their cars, may encounter something horrific.

I first heard about the Pine Barrens from my neighbor, Mrs. Eckert. She once told me that she never drove through New Jersey at night anymore, and had good reason. As a retired English teacher, she knew how to tell a story, even though she sometimes uses the type of words most people would not understand. What follows is Mrs. Eckert’s story, as best as I can remember it…

It happened in 1952. I remember that night like it was yesterday. It was a Sunday night, around 9 PM. The sun was just going down, and my mother, father, brother and I were in our boat-sized Cadillac headed back home to Philadelphia. We had eschewed sunscreen all weekend, and so our skin was starting to feel hot with sunburn. My brother and I were upset to be leaving the sandcastles, ice cream, and salty waves behind. We acrimoniously quarreled in the back seat.

“Stop bothering me!” I snapped at my brother.

“Dad, she’s putting her bag on my side of the car!” my brother whined.

I could see a vein bulging in my dad’s temple.

“You two, stop it!” he shouted. “If you don’t, I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“We will pull this car over!” my mom said.

We knew that we had pushed their patience to the limit. My brother and I came to a silent truce, both of us sighing lugubriously and gazing out the car windows at the thick forest around us. Through the trees, I could see the last scraps of summer sunlight eaten up by the pine trees. I shuddered, involuntarily. Nobody would want to be forced to get out of a car around here.

Back in the 50s, you had to be sure you gassed up your car before heading back to the city. Traveling through the Pine Barrens, there were no gas stations and no stores, just a two-lane road lit by lonely cars passing by every so often. It’s almost hypnotizing to drive through there. The tree trunks on the side of the road catch the headlights of your car, forming a kind of flickering tunnel into which you pass, deeper and deeper. I noticed that my parents’ murmuring conversation in the front seat had fallen silent. We all peered out into the woods as they flew by in a shadowy blur, but it was impossible to see what was there. Were the branches stirring because of the wind, or some sort of creature? Was that ambiguous shape a crooked tree, or the outline of a person? I reached over and locked my car door, knowing this was silly, but feeling more secure nonetheless.

Suddenly, with a sharp screech and a jolt forward, the car squealed to a halt.

“What is it? What is it?” my mother shouted.

“I thought I saw something,” my dad said. The smell of burning rubber filled my nostrils.

“What did you see?”

“A girl. A little girl. She was wearing a white dress. Back there. Right on the side of the road. I swear I saw something.”

“Are you serious, Harry? Why would a girl be there?”

My dad craned his neck around.

“I don’t know! I just know that I saw her!”

He shifted into reverse, put his arm on the back of my mom’s seat and turned to look through the rear window as he drove.

“Dad, what are you doing?!”

“I just want to check!”

He drove backwards down the shoulder of the road for 100 yards. There was nothing around, just the pine trees. He braked the car and opened his door, standing there, peering into the darkness.

Suddenly, in the woods across the road, I saw a figure lurching towards us, moving quickly, furtively, with a lopsided, unnatural gait. I knew right away that this was not just the wind. Something sinister was coming.

I screamed, “Dad, get back in the car! There’s something there! Get back in the car!”

The urgency in my voice convinced him. He jumped back in, slammed the door, and threw the car into gear. Thank God he had left the engine idling! In another screech of burning rubber, we launched down the road, the car lurching from side to side as my dad accelerated.

A hulking figure emerged onto the road as we sped away. I could make out the shape of an enormous creature, running towards us like a linebacker, but with an uncanny velocity. A human couldn’t run that fast. Nothing natural could. Was that a tail I saw? The figure grew closer and closer, almost touching the car. Its entire body was enormous, muscular, a deep scarlet red, and covered with scales. It stretched out a claw-like hand, its pointed red nails razor-sharp. It lunged, grabbing at the car, its claw grating against the paint with a sickening scrape. My dad swerved to the right. The creature lunged again, and caught the door handle. My door was locked, but the creature was holding onto the handle tightly.

“Shake him off!” I screamed. The engine roared as my dad swerved to the left, then quickly to the right. The creature struggled to hold on. Another swerve of the car shook it loose. The creature lost its grip. I heard it thump to the asphalt. Through the rearview window, I saw a dark heap in the dark road. It was swallowed up by the night as we drove away as fast as the car would go.

At the first gas station we saw, we pulled over and got out. We were all trembling, standing there in the reassuring artificial light, soaked in sweat from the rush of adrenaline. I looked at the side of the car. There were deep gouges in the metal, and the door handle was crooked, as if it had almost been yanked off. My dad reached out to touch the scratches, but as soon as his hand got close, the damage dissolved back into a smooth paint job. I glanced back at the door handle. It was back to normal, too.

Nobody ever believed the story. We had no proof. Over time, my family members stopped telling it. But I know what I saw. I can still see that red claw, reaching towards me.

If you go to the Pine Barrens, never stop your car.