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An excerpt from my book "The Evil Within"

The four men exited the Benz and moved as silently as possible through the woods towards the looming sounds. Schmidt extracted the 9mm Luger pistol from under his coat and flipped off the safety. “I’m going to kill that bastard tonight,” he thought to himself, “and his father to if he gets in my way.” It was late afternoon and the forest was already casting shadows, soon the darkness would be upon them. Von Gruber shuddered remembering the last time he’d walked through these woods. There had been body parts and blood everywhere. Then he suddenly remembered the boot with the foot in it. The stench was overwhelming his stomach turned causing him to almost gag involuntarily. Quietly they crept on like hunters searching for their prey. Ahead the sounds grew louder, they could hear a man’s voice in the distance but the language was unintelligible.

Excerpt from my novel "The Evil Within"

The cobblestone street abruptly turned to a dirt road leading into the woods. Passing under a streetlight I realized that it was the last one on the edge of town. An uneasy feeling swept over me and grew worse as I continued down the darkened pathway into the forest. Feeling the anxiety welling up inside. I forced myself, to continue on. All of my instincts seemed to light up simultaneously. “This is nothing more than another night recon patrol,” I told myself, “This is what I do. If someone is crazy enough to jump me in the woods at night they’re on their own.” My bravado returned temporarily. Reaching deep into my pocket I wrapped my right hand firmly around the knife that I carried there. Pulling out the knife my right thumb automatically pressed the button on the handle disengaging the lock, the blade snapped out making a loud metallic click as it locked into place. A feeling of walking into an impending ambush enveloped me. The alarms were going off in my head. Listening, feeling, searching with my very being, something or someone was here I could feel it. The snap of a twig echoed through the still night air, followed by dead silence. Stopping, I turned my head slowly from side to side straining to see into the darkness. Looking back, the glow of the distant streetlight still etched its’ way cautiously beyond the bend in the road behind me. Side, stepping to the right from the middle of the road and squatting down beside a tree, I felt safer in the shadow, the darkness concealing me. If someone were following me this would give him the opportunity to catch up or pass me by. I clutched the knife firmly in my hand waiting listening and trying to control my breathing, while a trickle of sweat slowly worked its way down my back. Something moved to the right of me only a few feet away then it was in front of me, stopped. Slowly a large shadow on my left moved to the center of the road. I held my breath while straining to see what it was. Behind me I heard the sound of heavy breathing like a bull, through flared nostrils, preparing to charge. A God awful smell of rotted eggs filled the air. I tried not to breathe forcing back the vomit that was trying to erupt from my throat. The hair on my neck tingled and made me shudder. My left hand instinctively reached to my chest. I could feel the cross hanging around my neck. Slowly I reached up and pulled on the chain freeing the cross from under my shirt and into my hand. Whatever was there began circling me slowly, quietly like a cat. My heart was pounding in my ears like a bass drum. Out and out fear enveloped me and I fought the need to urinate.

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Excerpt from "The House On V Road"

" We sat in the living room watching television trying to ignore the heavy footsteps that were pacing back and forth in the upstairs hallway above us. My young son pressed closer to my wife who was sitting on the couch next to me. A worried look crept across her usually serene face as she tried to focus on the game show we were watching. Since last Saturday, when we entertained a group of friends from our church, the old house seemed to come alive. Pots and pans would arbitrarily fly across the kitchen in the middle of the night. A vase of flowers crashed onto the floor from the coffee table in front of us. Then the pacing started, back and forth all night long."

Ghost Stories By Robert Siebers

My story begins on a lone stretch of I-70 west bound in the middle of Kansas. It was June 1977, at the time I was a Sergeant in the U.S. Army stationed at Ft. Knox working as a Reconnaissance Instructor. We had just graduated a class two days before and I was preparing to go on leave. My pregnant wife was in Denver and the baby was due any day. I was anxious to get going, my bags were packed and I was planning to leave the next day. At 5:30 p.m. I received a call from my mother in Denver, my wife was in labor and the baby was on the way. After quickly loading my bags into the car I hit the road. Before leaving Post I stopped at the PX and purchased some things for the trip so that I would only have to stop for gas and an occasional restroom break. A six pack of Coke, four Snickers Bars and a box of NoDoz would help to keep me alert for the long drive ahead.
   The trip was none eventful until around 2:30 a.m. as I was driving across  that empty space called Kansas.
The night was clear, there were a million stars in the sky and the radio was playing Hank Williams from some local station. There was no traffic coming or going along the highway, just me alone. I opened a can of Coca Cola and took a long swig, then stretched my neck to loosen the stiffness that was trying to set in. I was wide awake, a little wired on caffeine and high on the notion of becoming a new father. In just a few more hours I would be at my destination. In the distance I saw a movement in the road just at the edge of my headlights. Thinking it was a deer or someone's livestock I immediately began to slow down. then suddenly in the road in front of me was a woman waving her arms. She appeared to be middle aged with long flowing brown hair and wearing a white flowered dress. Blood was across her face and down the front of her clothes. I slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel to the left putting the car into a one hundred and eighty degree skid stopping with my vehicle facing east. Shaking my head in an effort to regain my composure I quickly ran a scenario of events through my mind. Where had this woman come from and where was she now. Reaching into the console I removed a flashlight and jumped from the car. "Hello," I called out, "Are you alright?" There was no answer, only silence and the darkness of the Kansas plains at night. I hadn't hit her I was sure of it. There was no impact on the vehicle. But just the same I began searching both sides of the highway for her. Calling out to her every few seconds. I even looked underneath my car as a precaution. There was no one. Had I imagined it, did I fall asleep without realizing it. Looking down I could see that the front of my shirt was wet from the Cola that I had been drinking and spilled on myself. So I knew I was awake. But had I imagined the woman in the road? In the distance I could see a tractor trailer coming towards me in the west bound lane. I got into my car and turned it around, parking on the shoulder of the highway facing west. I turned on my emergency flashers, climbed out of the car and resumed my search.I was still not convinced that she was imaginary. The trucker slowed to a stop just a few yards ahead of me and walked back to my car to see if everything was okay. So I rapidly filled him in on the events and described the woman to him at the same time asking him to assist me in my search. In the illumination of the headlights the big man's face paled. He shook his head slowly and his eyes moistened. "Are you alright," I asked? "Son just get back into your car and go," he said, "There's no one here. Only a very bad memory lives here." "What are you talking about." I asked the driver. "I've been driving this route for almost fifteen years," he said, "About four years ago there was a very bad accident right here where we're standing. A family returning from vacation stopped their car here at night just like this. Another semi was speeding down the highway and the driver was over tired. He fell asleep and collided into the back of the car sending both vehicles off of the road and into this field here." He raised his hand and pointed to the now empty space. 'The mother managed to crawl from the wreckage and out onto the highway here," he said, "She tried to wave someone down to get help for her husband and two kids. I saw her right here on this spot. But it was too late. You didn't hit her son, I did." I stood there speechless and at the same time saddened. "Go home young man, there's nothing for you here. There is only ghosts here now," he said. With his head down, the old man shuffled back to his truck weeping. An eerie chill ran up my spine as I climbed back into my car and drove away. I made it to Denver by morning and was so filled with joy that I soon forgot the incident. Two years later I was making the same drive from Kentucky to Denver. It was in the middle of the day and the sun was bright. As I came up on that spot I pulled to the side of the road and got out to look at the place the old man had pointed out to me that night.  As I stood there a Kansas State Police car eased in behind my car and stopped. The State trooper, a very large man, ambled up to me. "Is everything alright here," he asked? "Oh sure I'm fine," I replied, "Do you remember an accident here several years ago involving a semi and a family car?" "Were you here that night," the trooper inquired? "No," I said, " A truck driver told me about it a couple of years ago. I was just curious." The trooper sighed and said, "That was a bad one. June of 1973, a semi truck collided into the back of the car right here. They both ended up out there in the field, the car on its top and the truck on its side. A woman crawled out to the highway and another truck hit her then veered of of the highway over there. Killed the woman and the driver. In fact there were no survivors at all. Killed the entire family and both drivers. Terrible thing." The shock must have been on my face. "Are you sure you're alright," the officer asked again? "Oh sure I'm fine ," I reassured the policeman. "Well I've got to get back to work, you drive safely young man," he said.  The same eerie chill shivered up my spine as I recalled that night. Shaking my head a sadness came over me once again as I climbed into my car and drove away. Over the years I've passed that place several times, but never once have I ever stopped again. Believe it or not!

All rights reserved. October 16, 2011
This story cannot be republished without the express permission of the author.

A Ghost Story By Robert Siebers

While camping deep in the Gila National wilderness area four years ago, a strange event occurred. My son and I were just getting ready to call it a night and get some sleep. The tents were erected, kerosene lanterns lit the small meadow in which we were camped. The sound of the rushing water from the nearby stream accented the usual desert night sounds. From the far hills a coyote sang us a mournful lullaby. As we sat drinking our coffee and discussing the next days activities, the distinct sound of a snapping branch from the far side of the meadow caught our attention. My son turned on the flashlight and scanned the edge of the woods but the beam revealed nothing. We decided it was just a deer or an elk which are very abundant in that area. Then in the next moment the sound of feet moving through the trees and brush became very distinct. So I picked up another flashlight and we both began scanning the forest with our light beams. Again the sound ceased and all was quiet. Being no more than a days walk by foot from the Mexican border, my next thought was illegal aliens or Narco Trafficantes (Drug Traffickers). I quietly stood up and walked to where my rifle was and easily picked it up then directed the muzzle to where we last heard the sounds. All was silent now except for the sound of the rushing stream in the ravine below. Even the coyote was now quiet. Another movement in the brush, only now it was directly to our right and only a few feet away at the edge of the trees. Turning our lights towards the noise revealed a large pair of burnt orange eyes staring at us from a short stout figure about three feet in height with a square head. The eyes blinked in the beam of the flashlights. Peering at us from behind a prickly pear cactus the creature opened its mouth to reveal a collection of teeth no less than four rows deep. No growl only a hissing sound similar to a snake emitted from its mouth. In fear I quickly raised my rifle and fired a warning shot over the head of the ungodly beast. It merely stood there and blinked its' demonic eyes at me and made a shuffle in our direction. "Bullshit," I screamed quickly pulling the bolt on my rifle and injecting another round in the chamber. As if the creature knew what was coming next it ducked low and scurried into the forest from which it had come. The sound of two large feet shuffling through the undergrowth at a rapid pace faded quickly into the night. My son and I stood frozen in place for a few moments not knowing what to think. "What the hell was that," asked my son? "I have no idea," was all I could answer. Both of us, being experienced backpackers, were at a loss. neither of us had ever seen anything like it before or since. Who knows what it was that night. The desert has the ability to produce some very strange creatures and keep even stranger secrets. We took turns sleeping that night. One of us stayed awake to keep watch while the other slept. The creature did not return, but I'm sure it kept a guarded watch on us from the darkness of the forest. This story is true. You can believe it or not.

This story cannot be republished without the express permission of the author.
All rights reserved