THAT CURSED VHS
The story of that VHS tape was so fucking stupid that it was almost unbelievable, but it had become some sort of ridiculous craze on campus. Some nostalgic idiot who thought he was a cultist had found a working VCR at a thrift store downtown, and in just three or four weeks, the trend of "watching the cursed tape" had spread like a plague. Everyone was drunk and swearing that the thing gave you a surreal scare, but to me, it was just pure college theater, kids trying to act tough or find an excuse to grope a scared girl on the couch.
Things were getting so serious that the guys had even set aside a VHS player just to run the damn tape. Honestly, you couldn't take it seriously.
That Friday, the third-year guys' frat house was a total shithole. The strong smell of cheap beer spilled on the hardwood floor, the dense smoke of weed soaked into the old curtains, and the heavy bass of the music making the ceiling above us shake and creak. I'd already downed four or five large glasses of cheap vodka mixed with cold energy drink when Lucas found me near the bathroom hallway.
"Hey, dog, this party's a racket, huh?!" he shouted over the noise.
"I'm scared they'll complain tomorrow," I said, rubbing my face, trying to shake off the alcohol haze. "And what the hell is that?" I asked, seeing a square thing in his hand.
"That, my friend, is the... Sadako... or... or Samara, call it what you will," he slurred, grinning.
"Oh, come on, even you?"
"Ah, man, why not? I watched it and so far, nothing's happened. Let's go back to the living room, they're playing a real game of truth or dare and I'm dying to get a feel of that hot Amy over there."
"You? Dream on, buddy," I laughed at his bravado.
We stumbled back to the living room; the crowd had already formed a loud circle, drinking and smoking without a break, spouting nonsense.
The room was pure chaos. A blue Corote bottle was spinning in the center of a circle of about ten people sitting on the greasy hardwood floor. The weed smell was so thick you could get high just by breathing the air.
"Here they are, were you guys making out in the bathroom?" Camila laughed, drunk and giggling.
"Haha, funny."
"Sit down, even if you two have already hooked up, it still counts," she said, taking a long sip of her drink and licking her lips slowly, eyeing him up and down.
We sat in the middle, the stench of alcohol and weed burning our noses, everyone wild, talking nonsense, and laughing non-stop.
As soon as Lucas and I got closer, the bottle stopped, pointing from Mary—a second-year Architecture blonde who was already visibly tripping on some astral plane—to Leo, one of the Engineering guys who lived there.
"Truth or dare, Leo?" Camila teased, taking a slow sip of her drink and licking her lips, looking him up and down.
"Dare, shit! No mercy here," Leo said, pushing his cap back and blowing out a thick cloud of smoke.
"Okay, then... I dare you to give Juliana a tongue kiss, but with your hand up her shirt until the end of the next round."
The crowd went wild. A chorus of "Uh, damn!", claps, and whistles erupted in the middle of the smoke. Juliana, who was leaning on the couch in just a top and short shorts, gave a smirk, no remorse, and pulled Leo by the collar before he could even respond. The make-out was hot, no holding back; he shoved his hand up her shirt, squeezing her tits without mercy while their tongues tangled in a loud smack that made everyone cheer even louder.
"The shit's insane tonight, huh?" Lucas whispered from my side, already drooling at the corner of his mouth as he stared at Amy, who was sitting across the circle, crossing her long legs in a very suggestive way.
"Next time, make a real dare!" she shouted.
The bottle spun again, scraping the floor and slowing down. It stopped, pointing from Leo—who still had his hand on Juliana's waist, his mouth smeared with lipstick—right at Amy.
"My turn, hot stuff," Leo laughed, giving a loud slap on Juliana's thigh before focusing on Amy. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth," Amy replied, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and giving a sly smile. "I've got nothing to hide from you guys."
"Then tell us... Out of everyone in this room right now, who's the person you'd most want to take to the bedroom and ride without mercy until your pussy hurts?"
The room erupted in instant frenzy. People started pounding on the floor, making the hardwood creak, shouting names, egging her on. Lucas, beside me, even held his breath, thinking his big chance had come.
Amy gave a slow look around the circle, pretending to think, her eyes passing over Lucas, two guys from the gym, until her gaze fixed on me. She bit her lower lip quickly, a malicious glint in her eyes that made my stomach flip, even with the vodka burning inside.
"Oh, no doubt about it, it'd be Adam," she said, not blinking, pointing her drink glass at me. "He's got that good boy face, but I'm sure he's a devil in the sack."
"HOLY SHIT!" the crowd roared. Lucas gave me a hard elbow to the ribs that almost made me cough.
"And... tonight's his last chance!"
I felt my dick get hard; if this was real, and it would be, that night was going to be fucking insane.
"You won the night, you fucking bastard!" Lucas muttered, half-laughing, half-traumatized.
Before the conversation could get any more dirty for me, Leo grabbed the bottle and spun it again with force. The bottle spun, spun, and the mouth of the glass ended up pointing right at me. The guy holding the bottom was Lucas himself.
That bastard's face changed in an instant. A wicked, drunk smile spread across his face, and he didn't even wait for me to speak. He already knew what he wanted.
"Forget about 'truth,' Adam. You're going for the dare," Lucas pointed his finger in my face, and then, in one swift motion, pulled the black VHS tape from his jacket pocket, holding it up in the middle of the circle like a trophy. "Guys, Adam's been saying for days that this tape is bullshit, that the Samara story is just a kids' joke!"
The room went silent for half a second, until everyone got it, and then the frenzy really took over.
"DON'T FUCK WITH ADAM!" one of the guys shouted from the back. "You're shitting your pants, just admit it!"
"Me? Afraid of this crap?" I replied immediately, letting out a mocking laugh and shaking my head. "You guys are delusional, seriously. A bunch of grown-ass men scared of a 90s tape. It's a ridiculous story!"
"If it's bullshit, then take the dare, damn it!" Amy taunted, leaning her body towards me, her voice dripping with irony and a provocative smile. "The dare is: you take this tape to your apartment right now, you sit in the dark, you watch this shit from start to finish, and then you send a message to the group proving you watched it."
"That's right! If you chicken out, your reputation as a pussy will be cemented here for good!" Leo shouted, banging his vodka bottle on the floor. "You scared of the girl from the well coming to pull your dick at night, Adam?!"
The whole circle started clapping in rhythm: "Watch it! Watch it! Watch it!" It was a ridiculous drunk pressure, everyone laughing, shouting, and making fun of me. The alcohol in my head made me have that stupid pride of not wanting to back down.
"Go fuck yourselves, all of you," I shouted, laughing and yanking the tape from Lucas's hand with a tug. The plastic was cold against my fingers. "You're all idiots. I'm taking this shit, I'm watching this garbage from start to finish, and tomorrow I'm going to wake up laughing in the faces of every one of you."
"Want me to come with you to keep you company in the dark, Adam?" Amy said in a low, extremely provocative tone, winking at me while the rest of the group kept shouting.
"No need," I replied, tucking the tape into my jacket pocket and standing up, feeling the room spin slightly. "I'm going to handle this joke on my own. See you guys tomorrow, you assholes."
I left the game circle under jeers, laughter, and mocking shouts, leaving the suffocating noise of the party behind as I strode firmly towards the exit.
"Look at that shit, Adam..." he said, dragging his voice, with his eyes half-red and half-closed. He practically shoved the tape against my chest. "It's your turn, fuck. I wanna see if you're a real man or just all talk. The engineering guys said that whoever watches it gets marked. Seven days straight."
I took the object from his hand, feeling the rough and slightly cold plastic. It was a black VHS tape, completely generic, without any label, full of small scratches on the casing.
"Seven days to come up with a better shit to do in my life, only if," I replied, letting out a dry laugh and waving the tape in front of his face. "You guys are idiots, straight talk. It's just an old tape with hissing and a bunch of images recorded without any sense."
"Then go to your apartment and watch this shit now, asshole," he challenged, giving a weak slap on my shoulder and almost losing his balance. "Watch it alone in the dark to see if you don't shit yourself. If you have the guts, that is."
"Spoken like a true horror master," I mocked.
I put the tape in the inner pocket of my leather jacket, took another long sip of the warm beer left in my glass, and decided that I'd had enough for that night. The noise of the party was already giving me a headache.
"I just need to borrow a VHS player; I don't have that shit."
"Come on, I'll show you," Amy said, standing up and pulling my arm, leading me to a corner, speaking slowly.
"IIIIHHH," the crowd spoke in unison, already in malice.
Amy dragged me into a back room, the door slamming shut behind her. The party outside continued to be a hell of shouts and loud music, but inside the air was foul with cigarette smoke and sweat.
"Amy," I barely said, and she pushed me against the wall, shoving her hand into my pants, which, at this point, my dick was as hard as iron.
"Today, I'm going to use this cock until you can't walk tomorrow. Then I'll give you the VHS player."
"I—"
"Shut up, you son of a bitch," she growled, her voice slurred from drinking.
I didn't waste time, I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, making her let out a muffled scream. With the other hand, I gave her a strong slap across the face, the sound echoing in the room.
"Ah, fuck!" she moaned, her eyes gleaming with hatred and lust. "Is that all, you bastard?!"
I turned her around, pulled her skirt up, and tore her panties in one go. Her ass and pussy were soaking wet. I pushed two fingers deep into her wet pussy, feeling the walls tighten.
"You filthy slut... you're getting wet just thinking about getting fucked."
"Your fault! Now fuck me! Fuck me, damn it!" she shouted, pushing her ass back. "Stop fucking around and shove that dick in!"
I held her waist with one hand and aligned my thick cock at the entrance. I pushed it in all the way, to the hilt, without mercy. Her moan came out loud, almost a scream:
"AAAHH, YOU SON OF A BITCH! THAT'S A BIG ONE!"
I started fucking her hard, slapping against her pussy, the wet sound of skin on skin echoing. Every thrust made her scream and curse:
"That's it, fuck me! Fuck my pussy, you son of a bitch! Harder! Ah, fuck, go deep!"
I gave her a well-placed slap on the ass, leaving a red mark. Then another, and another. She screamed with each slap, her pussy tightening around my cock like it wanted to suck everything out.
"Scream louder, slut," I growled in her ear, pulling her hair hard. "I want to hear this pussy moaning while I destroy it."
"AAAHH! FUCK! MY GOD! YOU'RE TEARING ME APART!" she screamed, her nails scratching the wall. "Don't stop! Fuck me until I come, you bastard!"
I sped up, slamming deep, my cock almost coming out and going back in with brute force. The noise was obscene: wet skin, moans, curses, the slap of my hands on her ass and back.
"You disgusting slut...," I gave another slap to her face, making her head turn. "You coming already? Feel this shit throbbing inside you."
She started trembling, her pussy contracting in violent spasms.
"I'M COMING! FUCK! I'M COMING ON YOUR COCK, YOU SON OF A BITCH! AAAAH!"
I kept fucking her through her orgasm, without mercy, until I felt my balls rise. I pulled my cock out, turned her around, and pushed it in again, now looking into her eyes as I fucked her deep.
"Open your mouth," I ordered.
She stuck her tongue out, and I came right on her face and in her mouth, hot and thick jets. She swallowed what she could, the rest dripping down her chin as she still moaned.
"Fuck...," she panted, laughing low, her voice hoarse. "Now... Now your VHS...," she said, gasping.
She wiped her face with an old cloth, and we went downstairs, the crowd's chanting was unbearable, I felt a bit bad for Lucas, but you know what? Fuck it.
I said goodbye to the crowd and left, the VHS in the bag along with the tape.
The walk back to my apartment in block B was slow and drawn out. The night air was fresh, but the alcohol in my blood made my head heavy and the streetlights on campus look like yellow blurs stretched out. I was kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, laughing to myself at the audacity of the crowd, thinking that a horror story from the 2000s would scare anyone in the twenty-first century.
When I finally faced the stairs and opened the door to my apartment, the silence of the place was an immediate relief. The smell of a closed-off place mixed with my cheap cologne permeated the living room. I threw the keys on the kitchen counter, took off my shoes haphazardly, and went straight to the TV. I had an old tube television in the corner—a twenty-inch relic that my uncle gave me when I moved in—and, in a twist of fate, I threw the keys on the kitchen counter, took off my shoes haphazardly, and went to the living room. I put the VHS player under my twenty-inch tube TV, connected the RCA cables to the back, and prayed that the old thing would work. I was tired of that nonsense.
I knelt on the wooden floor, which creaked under my weight, and pushed the black rectangle into the slot. The mechanism pulled the tape with a metallic and heavy sound, a dry clack-clack that echoed in the silent room.
I turned on the TV with the physical button. The screen flickered, crackled with static, and lit up in a noisy, trembling gray. I grabbed the remote, flopped onto the worn-out couch, and crossed my arms, waiting for the so-called "horror show."
The images started to play, flickering quickly in a poorly recorded black and white. The isolated well in the middle of a dead clearing, the woman combing her hair in the mirror, that fucking giant fly landing, people running, dark water overflowing...
"Ah, go fuck yourself, old man..." I muttered to the empty room, letting out a muffled laugh and shaking my head. "What a senseless story. The guy who edited this shit must have been more high than I am now. For real."
The soundtrack had no music; it was just a sharp hiss, a metallic and uncomfortable sound that seemed to give a jab right at the back of my brain. But the fatigue and the alcohol left my body numb, heavy on the couch cushion. I stared at the screen for a few more seconds. There was something strangely hypnotic about the way the image of the well trembled on the tube screen. The water around it seemed thick, almost too dense, and the bluish light from the TV flickered through the room, casting long shadows that seemed to move slowly in the corners of the walls.
I blinked slowly, feeling my eyelids heavy.
"Scary as fuck, huh..." I murmured again, trying to shake off a stupid, involuntary shiver that rose at the base of my neck. I adjusted my jacket on my body. "Fuck you all."
The tape ended with that high-pitched hiss and the white static covering the entire screen. I sat there for almost a full minute, a bit dazed, waiting to see if anything would happen. The landline phone, an old relic that hung on the kitchen wall, didn't ring. There were no footsteps, no nothing. Just the dry sound of the tape rewinding on its own inside the machine.
"Idiots," I laughed to myself, getting up with some difficulty.
My head spun slightly when I stood up. The hunger from the alcohol hit hard. I dragged my feet to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and found the pizza box from the night before. I took two cold slices of mozzarella—the crust was already hard and dry, like cardboard—and ate them right there, leaning against the sink, chewing slowly as I stared at nothing and felt my stomach settle.
I rinsed my hands quickly in the sink, left the dim light from the kitchen's herb garden on so I wouldn't trip on the way back, and went to the bedroom. I didn't bother to undress; I just took off my jacket, threw it on the floor, and collapsed face-first on the bed. The mattress sank softly. It was dirty with alcohol, weed, cum, but... I couldn't be bothered to shower, I was dead tired.
The alcohol's exhaustion finally hit me. I closed my eyes, feeling the room spin slowly. The last thing I remember before passing out in a heavy sleep was hearing, deep in the house, a low, constant buzz... exactly like the sound of the TV on a dead channel. But my mind was too heavy for me to get up and check.
