22 Spooky Photos Captured At Weddings:  We all like weddings, right? And we all like Halloween. We want to share the best photos that show how wedding photographers capture Horror/Halloween themed photos at weddings.

My dad's perfect recipe.

My dad was the best chef that I had ever known and up until a certain point in my life, he was also the best dad. He would always dedicate the time outside of his culinary profession to spending time with me and making sure that I was loved. When I went through my phases of what I wanted to be when I grew up , as every child did, he made sure to support me fully. When I wanted to be just like Steve Irwin , he would buy me the best books on animals and would take me to the zoo frequently. When I wanted to be just like Neil Armstrong, he bought a telescope so that during the night we could look at the stars and point out to each other the funny little shapes that they made. When I wanted to be just like Michael Jordan, we got a basketball hoop and played basketball every single day. It wasn’t until around my 13th birthday that I decided that I wanted to be just like him, and that we were really able to bond and grow closer than ever.

I have been banned from calling 911. I don't know what to do.

I'm really at the end of my rope here. No, check that. I was at the end of my rope weeks ago. Now I'm sort of clinging to the side of the cliff by one bloody fingernail.

I didn't even know that you could get banned from calling 911. 31 calls over 36 nights later, and now I know the truth. They told me that unless they find an actual emergency situation the next time they respond, they'll arrest me on the spot and haul me off to jail.

And you know what? Honestly? That doesn't sound like a bad idea right now. Except for the part where I'd probably lose my children.

Every man in my family drowns on his 33rd birthday. Tomorrow I turn 33...

I know, it's crazy right? The first time I heard that every man in my family drowns on his 33rd birthday, I was 5 years old and my grandmother was trying to scare me back to bed. She said the mermaid's would come for me early if I didn't do as I was told. Complete nonsense. At least, I thought it was. My dad was in the Navy, and drowned during a military training exercise that went tragically wrong, I never even knew him, my mum was was 6 months pregnant at the time. It's not easy raising a kid alone, I'm sure. But my grandmother and aunt Jane, both on my father's side, were always there to help us. I never really knew anyone else on my father's side of the family, grandad had died long before I was born and Jane never married or had kids.

Everybody is Lying

My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me, and I almost dropped the blood-stained hacksaw. I cursed under my breath as I set the tool down carefully on the chest of my victim. I stepped away from my ‘operating’ table, pulled the rubber glove off my right hand, slid it under my smock and delved into the pocket of my jeans to retrieve my phone.

It was my boyfriend. I closed my eyes and sighed, disappointed with myself for forgetting. I hesitated for a few moments before answering, letting the bright LED lights in my basement glow through my eyelids. I accepted the call. “Hey cutie,” I cooed.

“Ugh,” Lucas grunted. “I hate it when you call me ‘cutie’.” I could tell from his tone that he was smiling. I was pretty sure he didn’t hate it. “You almost ready?”

“Uuhhh… I’m a little bit behind on that… sorry I lost track of time,” I told him. Technically, that wasn’t a lie.

My little sister went missing three days ago. This morning I found her diary.

Grandad was the one who told us.

He'd been out with Sally for one of their walks through the New Forest. Supposed to be gone until late afternoon, but he came back early. Sally didn't.

I was in the lounge when I heard the hammering on the front door. Loud, panicked. It was lunchtime and I was sat in front of the TV, watching Netflix. I paused the show and went to answer it.

I'm a nurse. There's something terribly wrong with my patient's X-ray.

“Jolene,” Dr. Anthony said, poking his head in. “Can I borrow you for a second?”

“Really? Now?”

I glanced longingly at the handsome man sitting on the bed. Henry Hildorf. It was the first time I’d ever had a patient that I knew. Henry was a high school classmate -- back then, a scrawny, nerdy guy who left cute notes in my locker. Now he’d bloomed into a green-eyed, black-haired, gorgeous specimen of a man.

“Go ahead,” Henry said, in that smooth, beautiful voice. “I’ll still be here.”

My Husband Ordered A New Daughter

Maddie arrived at our door eight years ago with a shiny red bow around her throat and an instruction manual at the bottom of the box.

Feed it six times a day.

Keep it clean.

No refunds.

The box had no return address. The mailmen refused to take it back. I tried to throw it into the garbage, into the fireplace, into the lake behind the middle school. It always turned up again anyway, on the doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in grime or soot or water as if someone had just fished it out from wherever I had tried to banish it.

Nanna stands at the foot of my bed each night.

I love my nanna lots and lots. She's my second favourite person in the whole world, after mum. Lots of kids in my class say they love their dad the most, but I don't know mine that well. He left when I was very little and I haven't seen him since.

Nanna makes me feel better about things. She makes stuff okay. When I used to feel sad about dad not being here, or whenever I was scared because people were shouting on our street late at night, nanna would sit by my bed and comfort me.

I Became an Atheist Because I've Conversed with God

I’ve been a writer for a while now; I’ve written a bunch of stories and articles I published in various small-time magazines and outlets. So, you’ve probably never heard of my works. Writing was a hobby more than anything and whatever profit I could make of it was just a bonus for my full-time job. One key theme in my writing was my faith, my religion, my relationship with God. As weird as it may sound, that was one reason my stories attracted people. I think there’s too much cynicism in the world right now; that led people to seek something less harsh and critical and some found it in my stories.

Never let me go.

"Never let me go, okay?"

We sat on the concrete wall above the sea, Lia and I. Waves crashed down below, and I leaned in close to her. Our bodies connected, fit together like puzzle pieces. My arms around her waist, head on her shoulder; her head resting on top of mine, arms draped over me. "Promise me," she whispered. I kissed her neck, then her lips. "I promise."

Have You Ever Heard of The Elevator Game?

Listen, if you've ever combed the internet for silly little scary "games", such as Cat-Scratch and Bloody Mary, I hope you don't come across the "Elevator Game" and attempt to play.

Ever since I was a child, I had always been fixated with Elevators. They were a fun contraption on jump around in, and I always was excited to take a ride in one of these mysterious stainless-steel contraptions.

I Almost Choked to Death on His Words

Hi. My name is Emily. Most days, I would rather eat hot coals than do something that would send my husband Dennis into one of his rages. Like using his laptop. But I’m doing it. My husband says I’m stupid. Maybe I am. But I figured out how to create an account on Reddit. Despite the terror making my fingers shake and my heart stutter… I’m determined to tell someone what happened, even if it’s an anonymous group of people on the Internet.

Some Old People In My Village Have No Fingers.

If you were to ask them, they'll tell you the story of Bobo

Bobo was a cruel man, born with a black and twisted soul. But Bobo was also gifted. He was gifted with the love of all who saw his handsome face or heard his gentle voice

When he was young, he would steal gifts from his friends. Later, sometimes that same day, he'd show the stolen item to them, surrounded by his friends . When the victim voiced his villainy, Bobo would refute.

"No. This is mine. You must be mistaken."

I think I'm done with security.

I work as a security officer downtown in a big city. Most of my job is making sure people aren’t camped out in building entryways or in the parking garages that I patrol. Mostly I just drive around and stop if I need to remove someone from the property, but a few of my buildings require me to go inside and clear each floor, stairwell, and the parking garage (if they have one, most don’t) to make sure nobody snuck inside and set up shop for the night. Inside the buildings I have to patrol, we have little scan tags that we have to scan with our phones so our company can track that we’re actually doing our jobs, but it takes forever to scan them and most of them are broken anyways.

It's hot and I'm hungry.

My god I’m hungry. I don’t ever remember being this hungry in my life. I’m kinda thirsty, but I really need to eat something. Fuck it’s bright out. The sun really hurts my eyes. I think I have something wrong. Maybe I have sinus pressure or something. I don’t know. I should find a hat.

“Where am I,” I wonder aloud. “South St. and Main. I know this place. There is a gas station right down the block. I’ll go there and buy a sandwich. Maybe I’ll get a coke. I am talking to myself.”

I head to toward the gas station. There is another guy walking next to me.

“Hey,” I say to him. He ignores me.

The Man in My Closet

There is a naked man standing in my closet. I've called the police and they are on there way. I've locked myself in my office but I am seriously freaking out right now. The dispatcher advised me to just sit tight and wait for the officers to show up. I'll post more after they leave.

Well, that didn't go how I thought it would. I let the officers in so they wouldn't break down my door and they went into my room and checked my closet. They told me there was no one there. I followed after them and the guy was still there. Just standing there. I pointed to him as he was right there but apparently only I can see him. Either I'm crazy or he's a ghost. I'm leaning towards the former.

What is wrong with the passengers of train 1109? And WHAT IS SO DAMN FUNNY??

I think I’m about to do something really stupid. Before I do - figured it’d be worth posting this story somewhere so people will know why I did what I did. Or, maybe I’m just stalling.

I travel for work all the time. The only difference today is that I was taking a train as opposed to flying like I usually do. It just so happened that my client was only four hours away by train so it seemed a better choice. The first twenty minutes of the ride were great. I went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole on the bizarre philosophy of Terence McKenna and then fell asleep listening to classic episodes of my favorite podcast.

I've been stuck in school detention for three years. If you can read this, please send help.

It was stupid and immature. I'll be the first to admit that. But it's not like I killed anyone. And if you want to try to understand things from my perspective, there was really no way that I could not do it.

First, because his name was Mr. Hillrow. Second, because he acted like a dick, always calling on you the one day you didn't do the reading, and then dragging out the torture in front of the whole class. Third, he sort of looked like a dick, with his ring of puffy hair surrounding the bald top of his head.