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Scary Stories for Halloween: Bloody Fingers.

Updated on September 8, 2013

With Halloween coming up, and ghost stories being the thing that so many people want to hear, it might be a fun idea to tell the kids a few stories that might scare them a little bit. But seeing as how some kids might not want to get involved with a story that would be so scary that they would end up with nightmares for the rest of the week, maybe it would be a good idea to tell them one with somewhat of a funny ending (and would diffuse some of the tension that they would probably be feeling with some laughter).

This story is about a hotel with a haunted room that the manager always tries to talk people out of renting (warning them that it is haunted), but no one seems to want to listen to him. What makes this one something that the kids might find enjoyable (more than the fact that it has a bit of a funny ending) is that it is the adults of the story that are the ones that are afraid of the ghost that comes out of the closet; they are the ones who can’t handle the fact that there is something so scary in front of them, despite the fact that they have just boasted about how they will be just fine. It is not until we get to the third person to rent the room that there is a difference; the teenager who rents the room (though, I’m not sure who would let their teenaged son just go off in the middle of the night and rent a hotel room, and I am not sure what hotel would rent a room to a teenaged boy who claimed he just wanted some quiet so he could practice his guitar) is the only one who is not only not frightened by what he sees, he is the only one who actively speaks to the ghost (telling it that it needs to shut it, because he’s trying to practice).

Bloody Fingers.

There was once a businessman who was going on a trip for his work. He reached the city that he was supposed to go to in the late hours of the night and went to a hotel to get a room. Going up to the counter, he rang the bell and the hotel manager came out. The man asked for a room, and the manager said that there was only one room left in the hotel, but he didn’t think that the businessman would want the room. So, the man asked the manager why he thought that the room wouldn’t be wanted.

“It is on the thirteenth floor,” the manager said, “and we do not rent that room, because it is haunted. Perhaps it would be a better idea if you found a room at another hotel for tonight.”

“Nonsense,” the businessman said. “I don’t believe in ghosts, and I’ll take the room.”

The manager agreed, even though he was reluctant to let anyone rent a room that he knew for certain was haunted, and the businessman went up to the room. He quickly got ready for bed and slipped between the sheets, looking forward to be able to get some sleep before he got on with his work the next morning. As soon as he turned off the light next to the bed and closed his eyes, he heard the closet door open with a creek. Startled, he opened his eyes and sat up.

Coming out of the closet, the man saw a pale, ghostly figure with blood dripping from its fingers and moaning horribly. The closer it came, the more terrified the man became, and then, the figured started to speak.

“Bloody fingers! Bloody fingers!” the ghostly figure said as it dripped blood onto the floor.

Unable to take anymore, the man grabbed his belongings as quickly as he was able, and he ran out of the hotel room, unwilling to stay any longer, because now he believed in ghosts.

The very next night, an old woman came to the very same hotel, and she requested a room. The hotel manager told her the same thing that he had told the businessman the night before:

“We are booked solid except for one room on the thirteenth floor, but we don’t rent that room out, because it is haunted.”

Alternate telling of "Bloody Fingers".

“Fiddlesticks,” the old woman said. “I have seen plenty of things in my day, and I have never seen anything to make me believe that there is any such thing as ghosts. I will take the room.”

Unable to dissuade her, the manager rented her the room and gave her the key. She went up to her room, and quickly got ready for bed. After she slipped between the covers, she turned off the bedside lamp and lay down to go to sleep. Almost as soon as she closed her eyes, she heard the closet door creak open. Startled by what she had heard, the old woman sat up and looked over toward the closet.

Coming out of it, she saw a ghostly figure with bloody fingers moving toward her. She stared at the figure, unable to move, because she was so frightened.

“Bloody fingers! Bloody fingers!” the ghost moaned as it soaked the carpet with blood.

Finally, the old woman was able to move, and she let out a shriek before she ran out of the room as fast as she could, leaving all of her belongings behind.

A week later, a teenaged boy came to the hotel. He arrived late at night, and he asked for a room so that he could practice his guitar. The hotel manager gave him the same warning that he gave the others; he told them that the hotel was booked solid except for one room on the thirteenth floor.

“But you do not want to rent that room,” the manager said, “because it is haunted.”

“I don’t care,” the teenager said, “I just need somewhere to practice in peace. I’ll be fine.”

Unable to convince the teenager that he didn’t want the room, the manager gave him his key, and the teenager went up to the room. After unpacking the things that he had brought along with him, the teenager sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed, and he began strumming on his guitar. There was a particularly hard song that he had been working on, and he wanted to be able to master it, but before he had been practicing for very long, the closet door creaked open.

Stopping what he was doing for a moment and looking up, the teenager saw a pale and ghostly figure walking out of the closet. The figure moaned as it staggered toward him, dripping blood onto the carpet and creating a trail behind it.

Once he had seen the figure and what it was doing, the teenager went back to practicing his guitar without paying any attention to what was happening in front of him, unconcerned with the figure or the blood that was now soaking the carpet beneath its feet.

“Bloody fingers! Bloody fingers!” the figure moaned loudly as it got closer to the teenager.

Finally, the teenager stopped with an exasperated sigh as he looked at the figure once more.

“Shut up, man,” the teenager said sternly. “Get some Band-Aids if your fingers are bloody. I’m busy.”


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    • profile image


      3 years ago

      Why are his fingers bloody anyways what

    • DavidSimmons1776 profile image

      harold withers 

      4 years ago from usa

      nice blog

    • profile image


      6 years ago

      It is really boring. Such stories make only babies cry not me!


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