Forums / Just For Fun

I sort of screwed the other thread by deleting my old account, So here’s a new one.
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Rules:

• Post only Creepy pasta, no derailing.
• Use a spoiler button for pictures and long stories.
• You can do: IRL experience, Fake stories, Stories you’ve found.
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  Good luck, I hope you don’t enter this thread at night.
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  I was sitting in the upstairs office of the Museum with a cup of coffee when it happened. It had been a long day, and I’d set the work experience kid the seemingly unfuckupable task of dusting the exhibits- after repeating my warning, of course, that some of them must not be touched or opened. A terrified scream, quickly strangled by a building-shaking thump and an awful rending sound, brought me rushing downstairs.

  The mirror room- I knew it. In there, there hung an ancient mirror, about a foot around, made of polished obsidian. Behind the glass walls of its display case, it was harmless- although people amusingly reported seeing the face of an evil hag in it on occasion. Looking at it unprotected was madness, though- certainly for those without my knowledge of the old ways.

  I arrived in the mirror room, and a horrible smell hung in the air. On the floor lay half a body- the lower half, still in the clothes I recognized from earlier. The skin had been stretched purple and torn away, and the organs inside that hadn’t been torn free leaked their contents onto the floor. The legs were at the bottom of a maroon spray that started below the wooden case of the mirror, and the hipbone lay almost against the wall.

  The case was broken- the wooden sides pushed outwards. Clumps of hair, matted with skin and blood, stuck to the frame of the mirror. Concentrating now, I stepped in front of the black disc, my sandals carefully placed either side of the bile-sprayed limbs and pool of blood on the floor. Looking into the dark reflection of the room, I saw my double once more. In her hand was a pale arm that led down to a broken form, and a trail of darkness. Sure enough, when she lifted the half-corpse into the air, I recognized the shattered and stretched face.

So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is “wut r u doing wit my daughter?” U tell ur girl n she say “my dad is ded”. THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

Okay, that’s enough of that.
It was funny in the first thread.

I wasn’t here for the first thread.
I beg your forgiveness.

woo new creepy pasta thread!

My cousin and I had gone to San Antonio, and we had heard rumors of some haunted railroad tracks. The story was, a school bus full of children had stalled on these tracks with a train coming. The train was going too fast for there to be time to get the children off. So they all died. When we finally found the tracks, we stopped the car, parking it right on the railroad tracks. We were both a little nervous, and scared, and waited for something to happen. Just when we were about to leave, the car started rolling. We were both too freaked out to do any more than grab each other and gasp, eyes wide, mouths open. After what seemed like an eternity, (but was actually less than five minutes tops) the car stopped rolling. We looked around, and we were off the railroad tracks.
Now, that may not seem spooky, but what we saw next scared us enough to jump back in the car and make the six hour trip home THAT NIGHT. Both of us got out of the car and walked around to the back. After the first six hour drive, our car had accumulated quite a bit of dust on it. That’s not scary, no. But what was scary was the little sets of handprints all over the back of the car. All the size of children’s hands

ooooooo creeeeepyyyy!

AGAIN WITH; COPYING MY CREATION!

You want me to leave again?
Then shutup and write something.

I have a creepypasta:

Once, there was a boy named Ric Tesla. He was a relatively nice kid, until one day he decided to check out Know Your Meme.
We’re not quite sure what happened, but something on that site messed with his head. He started to believe his hair was brown, despite all evidence.
Months into his condition he is being used as a sex-slave by various KYM forum goers. How they managed to convey such effective brainwashing over the internet is unknown.

Twas not too scary but at least it’s something.

One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until after school. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.
His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.
He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.
She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said “No.” He was devastated.
When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said “No.” It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.
The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, “Sorry, no.” When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said “No.” He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.
Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when suddenly he got hit by a car. He was dead with the picture in his hand.
The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. Suddenly he saw the picture and picked it up.
He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.

“I check into small hotel a few kilometers from Kiev. It is late. I am tired. I tell woman at desk I want a room. She tells me room number and give key. “But one more thing comrade; there is one room without number and always lock. Don’t even peek in there.” I take key and go to room to sleep. Night comes and I hear trickling of water. It comes from the room across. I cannot sleep so I open door. It is coming from room with no number. I pound on door. No response. I look in keyhole. I see nothing except red. Water still trickling. I go down to front desk to complain. “By the way who is in that room?” She look at me and begin to tell story. There was woman in there. Murdered by her husband. Skin all white, except her eyes, which were red. I tell her I don’t give a shit. Stop the water trickling or give me refund. She gave me 100 ruble credit and free breakfast. Such is life in Moscow."

Batman…Smiling…static shock…

One day a man named Joe was walking down the street after a long hard day of working at the button factory. As he was texting his friend Rob that he was not going to be able to play Words with Friends that night due to extra work, he heard a weird noise. Being the curious type, he began to look around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. As he was about to begin walking again, he heard another odd noise. He strained his ears to hear it over the noise of the city street. He continued until he realized the repeated audio oddity was coming from the building nearest to him. Walking closer he inspected the structure from the ground up. It was a white walled building with no windows, doors, just a basic flat roof. More a box than anything else he thought. Leaning in closer to it he heard the noise, clearer than before, it sounds like a voice. Left, then right, he looked about the building’s wall, he noticed a small circular hole. Cautiously he crept towards it, the voice getting more clear than ever before. He could understand it now, “23,” it said. “23”. “23”. Now he could no longer hold his curiosity, Joe leaned towards the hole and fit his eye so that he could see inside. Looking around he saw nothing but darkness, and then he realized, the voice had stopped. Squinting, suddenly it happened. Poked, right in the eye. “Oh em gee wut teh fuk bar bee qu” he yelled out. “24”. “24”. “24”. The voice started. Annoyed he rushed off and never ate Lima beans again.

Something scary, fake figure, death. The End.

you think creepypasta is a joke,
DOES THIS LOOK LIKE IM JOKING

Creepy pasta:

A guy was once walking through a forrest. He came across a wierd house made out of pure cement. he opened it. The room had some sort of red light on it, and other than that it was pretty normal for a house in the middle of no were. in the house was a clown statue. The clown had no face. The bottom of the statue said “Slender” on the engraving. The man saw the house had been abandoned, so he went to sleep. He woke up, and the clown statue was gone. In fact, it looked like it was never there before. He walked outside. When he did, he looked passed the trees, only to see the overstretched limbs of a clown in the distance, with the eyes locked on him.

Wait, wait, got another I will make up.

Jill was the adverage girl. She was 15, young minded and free at heart. That’s when she saw Wilis, and she instantly knew that the two would be together forever. She introduced herself to the boy, but it looked like no one else even notcied him. After school, Jill talked to her friends about the boy she had met. They said they saw Jill talking to thin air. She ignored her friends, and met Willis once more the next day. The two instantly became attached. her friends became oddly worried for her health. The next day, Jill suddenly collapsed on her way to Willis’s house. She was awakened out of her truama three days later. She was deathly ill, but she pulled through. Willis had no idea what had happened, and wanted to walk to his house and apologize when she got out. She was finally released from the hospital. She walked to Willis’s house. But when she got there, there was no house. Only a burnt down building. She walked through it, and picked up a picture of a lovely family, and a face she remembered. She saw past the house, and saw a cemetery. She walked through, and noticed a very large gravestone. She looked at it. On it was engraved “Here lies Willis Stanson, 1921- 1978” She gasped. it was 2008.

Did you ever see one of those videos where you are asked to look for, or follow a specific thing through out the video? Then, at the end, they reveal that as were watching, something large and intrusive moved around in plain sight and you never even noticed it. Its frightening how often that happens, like how I just moved from the doorway into your room as you read this.

let me find it….

Here!

wipes dusty tome

The Cake

By Uglidoll

John sat there, watching the clock. He would be coming soon. John had called the man, who claimed to be a cake expert. There was no picture to go with, so he had no idea who the man would look like. He had bought flour, eggs, and chocolate frosting, which he was pretty sure were ingredients in cake. He hadn’t ever made cake, so he didn’t know if he had the right stuff. He hoped so.

As he sat, the doorbell rang. A strange odor came in. John guessed that it came from the outside. He opened the door and looked at the man. He was most peculiar. He had a large overcoat, gloves, boots, long pants, and a large hat. He could barely make out his face.

“That’s so strange…” John thought. “Its summer! What’s with all of the clothes?”

John asked the man if he wanted to take off the coat. He shook his head, but didn’t say a word. He just stood there. Just as he went into the kitchen, the cat came in, looked at the man, and ran off as fast as possible.

So they went into the kitchen, and the man sat on a bench in the musty room. John held up the flour.

“Do you need this?” he asked.

The man nodded. John held up the eggs. The man nodded again. John then held up the chocolate frosting. The man nodded.

“Do you need anything else?” John asked.

The man zipped down his jacket, revealing scaly skin. The man - if we should call him one - showed him his long, sharp tail, made his fangs glisten, ripped his claws though his boots and said to him with the words sounding like nails on chalkboard:

”You.”

It sat there and took the cake out of the oven. It had used the eggs and the flour, and even the chocolate frosting. It cut himself a piece. It was good. The flesh and blood have it a good flavor. It grabbed the cat, put on his clothes, and left.

best pasta I ever read
>video included

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THIS IS THE STORY OF A DAY WHERE THERE WAS ALL THIS BLOOD. A MAN WAS WALKING AROUND AND BLOOD STARTED COMING OUT OF HIM EVERYWHERE. THERE WAS SO MUCH BLOOD THAT IT FILLED UP AN ELEVATOR. HE WENT TO THE STORE AND THERE WAS JUST BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE! PEOPLE WERE SLIPPING IN IT AND THEY WERE ALL GROSSED OUT. HE TRIED TO GO SWIMMING AND ALL OF THE SHARKS WENT NUTS AND BITTENED EVERYBODY. HE GOT CHASED BY ALL THE VAMPIRES EVER. ONE TIME THE BLOOD GOT A KID AND A DOG. AT THE END OF THE DAY EVERYONE DECIDED THEY WOULD SEND HIM TO SPACE SO THAT HE WOULD STOP GETTING BLOOD EVERY WHERE. THE SCARIEST PART IS THAT THE MAN WAS YOU!!! (OR HE WAS A LADY IF YOU ARE A LADY) AND YOU FORGOT THAT THIS HAPPENED

Sorry. I’ll act more maturely.

YOU BASTARD! I’L KILL YOU!

I wonder if it would be possible to create a creepypasta involving Falcon Punch and/or the Church of Falcon.

brobs ^

@ Gamzee sendy you stole my pasta you bastard

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I never told you all the story of Jared and the Jewelry Box did I?

do it!

In the dark past before history began, humanity learned to fear. Huddled in the darkness on the plains of Africa, our earliest ancestors listened to the monsters that prowled in the black night beyond them. Deep in the caves of Europe, later men kept watch around their fires in the snowy winter, telling stories of horrors living hidden in the gloom outside. In the Middle East, just as the Sumerians began to scratch cuneiform on stone tablets, farmers sacrificed their livestock to the demons of the desert.
Over time, we’ve learned to control our fears. To take them down to size. The beasts in Africa were held back by fences of barbed plants. The horrors in the snowy winter of Europe were cast aside by the retreat of the glaciers and by the flaming torch of human progress. The demons living in the sand lost their sacrifices as humanity moved past such beliefs as angels and demons.

All the the creeps and crawlies and bumps in the night have been explained away, while we sit safe in our modern world of scientific clairvoyance, but all of those terrifying tales our ancestors told around camp fires. All the stories of monsters and demons that stalked in the obsidian night. it makes you wonder.

where did they come from?

oh god, where did everyone go?

hello?
Anyone?

BOO! did i scare you?

not at all

lololololololol PASTA

Smells Like Bacon

During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time.
Although the scene was originally labeled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm’s well (which had apparently dried up earlier that year).
Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. The camera then continued to point at the oven for another 45 minutes until the batteries apparently died.
To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well…
…or why the body of the woman on the tape did not in any way resemble the body of the woman found in the oven.

Once apon a time.
He died.
The end.