The Best Friday The 13th Story You Will Read Today Courtesy Of R.L. Stine

The Best Friday The 13th Story You Will Read Today Courtesy Of R.L. Stine

While this might not be of the same horror quality of Josh Whedon’s Cabin In The Woods you definitely have to hand it to children’s horror author R.L. Stine for coming up with a really unique method of sharing a special story for this Friday the 13th.

In what has to be a rather unique use of the service Stine wrote out the story as a series of well crafted tweets and thanks to the folks at Geekosystem we can read them in their natural story-telling order.


Michael had no fear of Friday the 13th. His house was at 13 Endless Darkness Road. He was 13, and he was born on Friday the 13th.

It was like any other day to Michael. He climbed out of bed. His mom wasn’t home. So he walked to school on an empty stomach.

He passed some kids. They were talking about how they were scared of Friday the 13th. Michael wasn’t scared. He kept walking.

His friend Beth came by. He waved to her and shouted, “Don’t be scared today. There’s no reason to be scared.”

In school, some kids made ghost howls for Friday the 13th. The teacher said they scared her. But Michael thought it was lame.

A storm came up. Winds shook the windows. The lights went out. Kids ducked under desks. The teacher said it was bad luck.

But Michael didn’t get scared until that night. Lying in bed, he suddenly felt strange. Why did his legs feel so itchy?

He reached down to scratch and pulled something off his leg. A long worm! It wriggled coldly in his fingers.

He pulled another worm off his leg. Then grabbed one oozing over his neck. His body itched. His blanket was made of worms!

Slapping worms off his body, Michael tried to scream. But something clogged his throat. He reached two fingers into his mouth,

and pulled out a fat, wet bug. Another bug crawled up his tongue. And suddenly Michael remembered.

He remembered the accident. He remembered about his address: 13 Endless Darkness Road was the cemetery.

Pulling the wet bugs from his throat, Michael knew why he wasn’t afraid of Friday the 13th: HE WAS ALREADY DEAD.