The Blood-eating Sword
I sent this story to Sapphire, the creator of Something Scary podcast many days ago. So if she found this story in Nosleep Reddit, she should know that I’m also post this on Reddit too, for anyone who wants to read it.
Okay, this story is based on my family history and half of the story is fiction. I call this story, “The Blood-eating Sword.”
One day, I went to my grandparents’ house to meet my grandma. She was very kind and lovely. She liked to tell me past stories about my family. She said that her grandfather was a Tai Yai man.
Tai Yai or Shan is an ethnic group founded in Shan State in Myanmar and the northern part of Thailand, while her grandmother was an upper-class lady from Kengtung which is a city that is also part of the Shan State but mainly populated by Tai Kuen people, another ethnic group in Myanmar and the northern part of Thailand. They moved to Uttaradit many years later and lived there.
Her grandfather had a collection of swords that were used for fighting enemies, and now those swords are kept in the tabernacle. My grandma told me that one time, her younger sister tried to use one of the swords to kill her ex. Her ex, however, wasn’t killed but injured with the bloody cut! (I can’t remember which part of the body that my grandma’s sister’s ex got cut anyway) And my grandma also warned me that the ancient swords might have some spirits in it because it had been used to kill people for centuries and the victims might possess in the sword so don’t release it from the sheath or it will force me to kill somebody!!!
And that is the main inspiration of the following fiction story…
When I was in eleventh grade, my history teacher assigned my class to show her the oldest thing in our houses. Everyone was like “What!? Why!!?” and talked to each other, and some of them were worried about their property. The day before the next history class, I decided to bring one of my grandma’s swords so I asked her to bring to school. She warned me again not to release the sword from the sheath. I promised.
In the later history class, our teacher asked: “Does anyone bring your oldest thing in your house today?” Many students brought old vases. Some of them brought a little ceramic tea plate. And me, of course, a sword. Eyes of the masses were fixed on my sword. I thought that I would kept my sword safely, until one of them said, “Can I see the blade?” I quickly denied, “No! Don’t do it! It had been used to kill people for centuries!” But I told him too late… He quickly grabbed the sword released the blade from the sheath and acted like he was a Jedi with a lightsaber.
Once he moved his sword, acting like he was slicing, the blade sliced off one of my classmates’ arm. She screamed frantically and fainted as her arm was torn off. Everyone was terrified, some also screamed and fainted, some called the ambulance to bring my classmate to hospital. “I tried to warn you,” I cried.
Some days later, the history teacher was fired due to her mental illness about her sexual fetish on ancient objects, the one who sliced my friend’s arm was kicked out, and me? I was still studying in that school until graduate, the principal warned me to never bring any weapons to the school again. And I thought the same too…