By Kody Hanor
This time of year, stories are told about creepers and creatures everyone knows like the Boogeyman or Frankenstein’s monster, but this lesser-known tale of an old local youth group is just as frightening and even more likely to be real. This is Local Spooky Stories Part One.
As told by an anonymous source— around the year 1993, Newfoundland Pennsylvania was the kind of picturesque town perfect for the average nuclear family. The Hemlock Grove church bell still rang at dusk, echoing down the hills into Main Street. The youth group met every Wednesday night in the old white chapel until one October evening forever scarred itself into the back of their minds.
After their meeting, seven kids decided to do something reckless. With flashlights in hand and a Ouija board tucked under one arm, the kids climbed the narrow dirt path behind the church that led to the cemetery. The autumn air was crisp, heavy with the smell of pine and something faintly metallic and rusty. They set the board on a gravestone bench and formed a circle. “Is anyone here with us?” one boy whispered. Slowly, the planchette slid across the board. “T-R-U-C-K.” They all stared in confusion.
Then the rumble started seconds later. Headlights pierced through the fog at the bottom of the hill causing the boys to squint their eyes. An old pickup truck roared toward them at an unnatural speed. Dirt and gravel flew from its tires as it climbed, engine howling, then—dead silence. The truck stopped just feet away. No screech, no skid. Just… stopped.
The driver’s door creaked open. The cabin light flicked on. Empty. No driver. No movement. Only the faint creaks of the door and the smell of burning gasoline.
