The Stuff of Legends (by Patty Blount)

I'm a huge fan of the show, Supernatural. For those who've never seen it, it's a series now in its twelfth season and stars two brothers who travel the country hunting monsters that the rest of the world believes are just folklore and legends.

You've probably heard about a lot of these legends. Bloody Mary, The Hitchhiker, scarecrows coming to life, ghost stories, grim reapers -- you name the beast, and Supernatural's probably done it. And done it so well, I never watch this show alone. 

I've often wondered if the show's creators ever traveled the country like the main characters, searching for legends to inspire the next script? 

Doesn't it seem that every group or every town has their own scary legend? I grew up in Queens, NY. When I was a teenager, there was one such legend that terrified us all...but not enough to stay away. 

The legend of the Pin Man. The story was passed on from older teens to younger ones and often required a car trip to the Pin Man's House while someone told the story: 

Don't ever drive through the town of Douglaston on the night of a full moon. 

Wearing high heels. 

That's Pin Man bait. 

There's a narrow cobblestone road that twists and turns through the woods and passes an abandoned cabin. 

That's where it happened. 

That's where the Pin Man took his victims -- a young girl and her boyfriend, whose car broke down. They ignored the signs that said No Trespassing. They knocked on his door. They opened it when no one answered. They walked in, looking for a phone. Her high heels echoed on the rotting floor. 

The cabin had no furniture. No lights. Covered in dust and cobwebs, it stank like something had rotted there long ago and was still there. The couple found an old stick telephone, tried to make it work, but it was futile. 

This place was forgotten long ago.

Not just cold, but so icy, they saw their breath as they each decided it was time to leave this horrible place. The girl turned first but froze when she heard it. 

A soft snick sound followed by a gasp. She spun around, found her boyfriend staring at her -- through her -- his eyes already clouding in death. She ran to him, tried to help him, tried to fix whatever was wrong but she couldn't see anything or anyone. He just stood there...like he was suspended by -- 

Another soft snick and this time, she saw it... the large knitting needle that had pierced straight through him from behind -- first his heart and now his throat. 

She ran, her high heels slowing her down. She kicked them off and ran barefoot through the woods and back to the cobblestone road where they'd left the car. Safe! 

She was safe. She wrenched open a door, flung herself inside and made sure all the locks were fastened before she leaned on the horn, praying help would come. 

They found her the next morning, still leaning on the horn, two knitting needles protruding from her body -- one through the heart and one through the throat. 

The car doors were still locked. 

*sigh*

Well, I won't be sleeping tonight. Who's up for some Words With Friends?