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r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚

My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

Remembering the 1977 Evansville Purple Aces Tuesday, December 13, 1977 was a cold, rainy evening in Evansville, Indiana. Fog was moving in in front of a cold front, and wind gusts whipped across the prairie. The University of Evansville Purple Aces, the men’s basketball team, was preparing to head to a game at Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. But the team had waited over three hours at the airport before their plane arrived. It had been delayed due to inclement weather. The players and their new coach, Bobby Watson, were excited and anticipating this game, thinking it could be the beginning of the holiday turn-around games they were expecting to win... With a 1 – 3 record going into this game, the Aces wanted to prove they had what it would take to bring home a victory, and that their young, optimistic coach was right – in their first season of Division 1 competition they planned to be a force to be reckoned with come spring. And the City of Evansville staunchly supported them! But at 7:22 p.m., on runway 18 at Evansville Dress Regional Airport, all hopes for the team and their coach ended. Within 90 seconds after takeoff, the twin-engine Douglas C-53 (DC-3) chartered to fly the team to Nashville, lost control and crashed in a nearby field. There were 29 people on board, all of whom lost their lives… The hometown basketball team was gone. The horror of the crash rebounded around the city, the state, the Midwest, and the country. The official accident report listed the probable cause of the crash as "An attempted take-off with the rudder and right aileron control locks installed, in combination with a rearward centre of gravity, which resulted in the aircraft's rotating to a nose-high attitude immediately after take-off, and entering the region of reversed command from which the pilot was unable to recover.” The report also stated that the passenger baggage had not been loaded correctly, creating an improper weight balance in the rear of the plane. Of those who were, 14 were members of the Purple Aces basketball team, along with Coach Bobby Watson. Also on board were three student managers, three UE officials, the team’s radio announcer, two fans, and four members of the flight crew, along with the president of the airline. No survivors of the team left, save for one member of the Purple Aces had not been injured. Freshman David Furr, who also served as the team’s statistician, had been sidelined due to an infirmity and was not on the plane that night.. But two-weeks later, Furr and his 16-year-old brother were in a car crash after being hit by a driver. By the end of 1977, all of the members of UE’s Purple Aces were gone. Remembering those who lost their lives in the crash: University of Evansville Coach Robert (Bobby) Watson Purple Aces Players Kevin Kingston, senior John Ed Washington, senior Tony Winburn, senior Steve Miller, junior Bryan Taylor, junior Keith Moon, sophomore Warren Alston, freshman Ray Comandella, freshman Mike Duff, freshman Kraig Heckendorn, freshman Michael Joyner, freshman Barney Lewis, freshman Greg Smith, freshman Mark Siegel, freshman Student Managers Jeff Bohnert Mark (Tank) Kirkpatrick Mark Kniese University of Evansville Officials Bob Hudson, athletic business manager Gregory Knipping, sports information director Charles Shike, comptroller Radio Announcer Marvin (Marv) Bates Fans and Boosters Charles Goad Maurice (Maury) King Flight Crew Members & Airline Representatives Ty Van Pham, pilot Gaston Ruiz, first officer Pam Smith, flight attendant James Stewart, president of National Jet Service, Inc. Bill Hartford, charter flight manager

20 OCTOBER 2010 VIA LoveGivesMeHope lovegivesmehope: givesmehope: My best friend died in a car accident on his way to deliver me soup for my cold. Found in the car was also a bouquet of flowers and a card that read: “We’ve been best friends for the last 5 years. Now, let’s be lovers for the next 50.” Unforgettable LGMH

I see the death of everyone I meet. (Written by JJX2525, from Reddit) SHARED JUN 05 I see the death of everyone I meet. Once, when I was in kindergarten, I got booted out of class for telling the new girl Abigail that she smelt bad̳. I remember it vividly – a bloody-burny-boozy smell that hit me the moment she came in. Abigail burst into tears and I got a stern lecture on telling lıes. But it wasn’t a lie. My little nose had leapt forward ten years into the future, where a teenage Abigail would drunkenly plough her parent’s Mitsubishi straight into the front of an oncoming bus. When we met again in middle school I smelt it a second time, along with the song she’d be playing on the radio – five seconds of a generic disco beat. The last thing she’d hear. I know it’s bad҉ to say, but I think there’s something sacred about it. There’s nothing more personal then someone’s last̀ moments of lífe. I try not to take it for granted. It’s hard, sometimes, though, especially once I got older and better at it. Along with smells came sounds, sights, and even feelings, though that last one was rare. In this day and age most people go to their dEath with pastel colours and blinking machines and a faint whiff of hand sanitizer, their brains too fizzled to know what’s about to happen. There are exceptions. Like Abigail, or my middle school gym teacher, who was going to dıe with a deafening bang in a rush of mad courage. I couldn’t hear a word of his opening lecture because my ears were still ringing. Suıcıde will do that to you. Have I ever told anyone? Of course not. Can you imagine? Even if they did believe me, which I doubt, it wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of them. They’d want to know what I saw in them. Which is fine for the heart attacks and the quietly-in-their-sleeps, but what do you say to a m√rder? And no you can’t change it, don’t ask me because I already tried, I already tried and you can’t beat the system. You just can’t. I already lost someone to that. Her name was Phoebe and she was in my History class at community college. It was a prettɥ small place and I knew most of the other kids there – except for her. We weren’t on speaking terms because every time she came within a few feet of me I got the urge to vom1t. It was motion sickness, but also something worse – fear. Hers was the worst fear I’d ever felt in another human being. I could hardly stand to be in the same room as her. I managed to avoid her for a couple months, until one day when she arrived late to class. She apologised and looked around, before striding to the back of the room and sitting beside me. There was nothıng I could do. I felt it all. The nausea, the terror, and a vision too, of me stuck fast in my seat as I hurdles headlong flaming out of the sky – the ocean rushing up towards me – screaming, then – Smack. Nothıng. When I came to she was glaring at me. ‘What is your problem?’ she whispered. ‘What?’ I asked, the uneasiness subsiding. ‘I don’t –‘ ‘If you don’t like̢ me then just say so. Quit pretending to be ıll all the time.’ ‘Huh?’ I sat up, trying to get a better look at her. We’d never been this close before. She was pretty. I hadn’t thought about how I must look to her, running away every time she got close. ‘I swear it’s not on purpose.’ I said. ‘I’m sick͞ a lot. It isn’t you.’ ‘Sure.’ she said, looking back towards the front of the front of the class. ‘Honestly.’ I said. ‘Let me – let me make it up to you.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ And that was the start of it. Within a month we were official. It was the happiest time of my life. The sicknesses didn’t go away, but it subsided after a couple minutes, and she stopped taking it personally after a while. Dashing to the bathroom became part of the routine on dates. We did everything together, all the couple things – movies, dinners, walks. It was my first serious relationship. I convinced myself that her dEath – whatever it was – was still years into the future. For a while, anyway. At the start of the summer she told me she was going to visit her grandparents out of state. ‘The flight’s on Monday. I won’t be gone much more than a week.’ ‘Flight?’ I repeated. ‘Yeah.” she replied. ‘Hey, what’s wrong with you?’ I convinced her to take a road trip. I can’t remember the exact excuse I gave. Some nonsense about expenses, life experience, our ‘carbon footprint’. How it took me that long to guess it could be a plane crash I’ll never know. I was in too deep, I guess. But whatever it was I said she must have seen I was serious. She rented a red mini from the local garage and, after we’d packed it up, I kissed her goodbye and said it was the right decision. ‘Okay.’ She laughed. ‘Weirdo.’ Straight after she left I got the urge to call her, but I told myself I was being overprotective. I worked for a few hours, then flopped down in front of the TV. I watched bad reality shows until I got bored, then flicked to the local news station just in time to see the breakıng story of a twelve car pile-up on a suspension bridge, when a truck driver dozing at the wheel had strayed out of his lane, clipping the corner of a passing car which swerved into another, triggering a chain of collisions which ended tragically when – some viewers may find this footage disturbing – a red mini was forced over the side, plummeting into the ocean beloɯ..

December 13, 1977, Evansville Aces players, coaches, supporters and flight crew boarded a chartered DC-3 plane to travel to Murfreesboro for a game against Middle Tennessee. Just one minute after taking off, at 7:22 p.m. crashed, tragically taking the lives of everyone onboard. The only member of the Purple Aces who did not die in the crash was 18-year-old freshman David Furr; he was out for the season with some infirmary and thus was not on the plane that day. Lucky break? Well… Davis Lee Furr, weeks after the plane crash, and his younger brother Byron were killed in a car accident near Newton, Illinois, leaving the entire 1977 Evansville team dead.

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."