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creepypasta thread

Last posted Oct 07, 2013 at 10:41PM EDT. Added Jul 24, 2013 at 03:04PM EDT
35 posts from 23 users

ok so we basically post creepypasta i’ll start

So do any of you remember those Mickey Mouse cartoons from the 1930s? The ones that were just put out on DVD a few years ago? Well, I hear there is one that was unreleased to even the most avid classic Disney fans.
According to sources, it’s nothing special. It’s just a continuous loop (like Flinstones) of Mickey walking past six buildings that goes on for two or three minutes before fading out. Unlike the cutesy tunes put in though, the song on this cartoon was not a song at all, just a constant banging on a piano as if the keys for a minute and a half before going to white noise for the remainder of the film.

It wasn’t the jolly old Mickey we’ve come to love either, Mickey wasn’t dancing, not even smiling, just kind of walking as if you or I were walking, with a normal facial expression, but for some reason his head tilted side to side as he kept this dismal look.

Up until a year or two ago, everyone believed that after it cut to black and that was it. When Leonard Maltin was reviewing the cartoon to be put in the complete series, he decided it was too junk to be on the DVD, but wanted to have a digital copy due to the fact that it was a creation of Walt. When he had a digitized version up on his computer to look at the file, he noticed something.

The cartoon was actually 9 minutes and 4 seconds long. This is what my source emailed to me, in full (he is a personal assistant of one of the higher executives at Disney, and acquaintance of Mr. Maltin himself):

“After it cut to black, it stayed like that until the 6th minute, before going back into Mickey walking. The sound was different this time. It was a murmur. It wasn’t a language, but more like a gurgled cry. As the noise got more indistinguishable and loud over the next minute, the picture began to get weird. The sidewalk started to go in directions that seemed impossible based on the physics of Mickeys walking. And the dismal face of the mouse was slowly curling into a smirk.

On the 7th minute, the murmur turned into a bloodcurdling scream (the kind of scream painful to hear) and the picture was getting more obscure. Colors were happening that shouldn’t have been possible at the time. Mickey face began to fall apart. his eyes rolled on the bottom of his chin like two marbles in a fishbowl, and his curled smile was pointing upward on the left side of his face.

The buildings became rubble floating in midair and the sidewalk was still impossibly navigating in warped directions, a few seeming inconcievable with what we, as humans, know about direction. Mr. Maltin got disturbed and left the room, sending an employee to finish the video and take notes of everything happening up until the last second, and afterward immediately store the disc of the cartoon into the vault. This distorted screaming lasted until 8 minutes and a few seconds in, and then it abruptly cuts to the Mickey Mouse face at the credits of the end of every video with what sounded like a broken music box playing in the background.

This happened for about 30 seconds, and whatever was in that remaining 30 seconds I haven’t been able to get a sliver of information about. From a security guard working under me who was making rounds outside of that room, I was told that after the last frame, the employee stumbled out of the room with pale skin saying “Real suffering is not known” seven times before speedily taking the guard’s pistol and offing himself on the spot.

The thing I could get out of Leonard Maltin was that the last frame was a piece of Russian text that roughly said “the sights of hell bring its viewers back in”. As far as I know, no one else has seen it, but there have been dozens of attempts at getting the file on rapidshare by employees inside the studios, all of whom have been promptly terminated of their jobs.

Whether it got online or not is up for debate, but if rumors serve me right, it’s online somewhere under “suicidemouse.avi”. If you ever find a copy of the film, I want you to never view it, and to contact me by phone immediately, regardless of the time. When a Disney Death is covered up as well as this, it means this has to be something huge.

Get back at me,

Jul 24, 2013 at 03:04PM EDT
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In rural Wisconsin, there is an old abandoned park. Built in the 1920s, it served as the town’s gathering place for everyone.

That is, until a newly developed Train and Tunnel for Tots™ ride was installed in 1932. It was an innocent looking childish train, with one main (mechanized) head car, with three small trolleys pulled behind it. It went around some loops before going into a small tunnel.

But this is where the story gets weird. There were numerous cases of child deaths that year, all of them happening after the child rode on that train system. Some kids went missing in that short tunnel (about ten feet), and others went comatose after leaving. One, upon exiting, was found to be dead. Her dress was covered in what looked like small bloody handprints. Some killed themselves by scratching at their throats until they bled out, and one of them even killed another child before hanging herself with razor wire at the family’s farm.

The park was closed, and the town’s popularity as a tourist town plummeted.

Recently, a team of scientists were sent out to the park. They taped a video camera to the train, and put a new intern in with it, before sending it on its way onto the tracks.

When the train left the tunnel, it was empty, except for the camera.

The last ten seconds were nothing but static, save for the sound of children laughing.

Jul 24, 2013 at 03:28PM EDT
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The following is supposedly a true story that took place in Canada. I don’t find a post, so I’ll tell it myself.

A family consisting of a mother and two kids (16 and 8 years old) had to move into a cheaper house for financial reasons. The father had abandoned them, and things were just getting worse. One day, the older kid woke up in the middle of the night, screaming. Her mother rushed to him and asked him what was going on. He said there was something in the bathroom. He couldn’t explain what, but there was something, plain as that.
The next morning, the younger kid woke up with a terribly black bruise on one side of his torso. It looked as if someone had smashed him with a bat or something. He would have known if he had fallen out of bed, but her mother was suffering much more. How would she explain that to the school? What would she tell to her kids?
The next days just got worse. Doors were opening and closing and it couldn’t have been a breeze. It was Canada, and it was cold. Who would leave their doors open? The blender once turned on in the middle of a night, and the mother rushed to unplug it. And she would also hear footsteps heading for their kids room. And she would build enough courage to face whatever disturbed them, just to find out it wasn’t there. That thing was playing with her and her kids. To top it off, financial situation was just rough.
And so one day the mother found her older son dead in his bathroom. He had cut his wrists.
He also left a camera and a note.
“Mom, I did it. I caught him. I took a picture of it.”
If it wasn’t because she had a younger kid, the mother would have killed herself right there, with the same cutting instrument.
Eventually, they found a way to move out of that bloody house.
Last edited Jul 24, 2013 at 04:30PM EDT
Jul 24, 2013 at 04:29PM EDT
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So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz “wut r u doin wit ma daughter?”

u tel ur girl n she say “ma dad is ded.”

THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

Jul 24, 2013 at 05:03PM EDT
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You mean you’ve never heard the story of the… hash-slinging slasher?
Years ago, at this very restaurant, the hash-slinging slasher used to be a fry-cook, just like you. Only clumsier!
And then, one night, while he was cutting the patties, it happened!
He cut off his own hand by mistake!
And he replaced his hand… with a rusty spatula!
And then… he got hit by a bus!
And, at his funeral, they fired him!
So now, ever Tuesday night, his ghost returns to the Krusty Krab to wreak his horrible vengeance!

Jul 24, 2013 at 05:09PM EDT
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WARNING: IF YOU HAVE A HEART CONDITION DO NOT READ THIS. YOU WILL DROP THE FLOOR, FLOPPING LIKE A FISH, WHILE CLENCHING YOUR HEART SEEING AS YOU ARE HAVING A HEART ATTACK. ALSO: IF YOU HAVE A SENSITIVE ANUS DO NOT READ THIS; THE BRICK YOU SHAT WILL BE PAINFUL.
 
 
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.

Jul 25, 2013 at 03:29AM EDT
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ONCE UPON A TIME I WAS WORKING AT WORK AND DOING MY JOB AND THEN MY BOSS SAID WE NEEDED TO TALK IN HIS OFFICE. I SAID “OK SURE YESAND HE SAID “OK BILL YOU’RE FIRED UNLESS YOU DO SOMETHING FOR ME” AND I SAID TO HIM “OK SURE YESAGAIN BECAUSE I DO NOT WANT TO BE FIRED BECAUSE THEN I WILL HAVE NO MONEY!!! THEN HE TOLD ME HOW HE WAS SATAN AND ALSO THE DEVIL AND HE TOLD ME HE WANTED TO CHEW MY SOUL BECAUSE I AM NOT EFFICIENT ENOUGH AT MY JOB! I SAIDPLEASE NO” BUT HE DID IT ANYWAYS AND THEN I DIED SO NOW I AM DEAD AND ALSO I HAD BLEED TO DEATH!! THIS IS A TRUE STORY. I KNOW BECAUSE I AM YOU!!!!

Three words:
BEST
CREEPYPASTA
EVER

Jul 25, 2013 at 08:26AM EDT
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Sometime during early 1999, Nickelodeon launched Noggin, a program block that showed TV shows for children. A show on Noggin named Happy Appy, which sounds like a song a babysitter would sing, was first shown within a few weeks of the channel’s existence.

The plot of Happy Appy is about a giant clay apple with arms, baby blue eyes, giant dark green lips, and a big green leaf being held up by a rusty bent stick. He would go around in a van helping children when they got hurt. As the show’s episodes progressed, it just got weirder. To show one example, Happy Appy kept doing this deranged smile when he was near children. It reminded me too much of that smile that he did in the episode I watched. Later in the show’s run, they changed Happy’s stick to a non-rusty stick, which was still bent.

The show was one of the shorter shows on the block, at a normal length of 10 minutes long. The episodes were normally played in duets, making each full episode 20 minutes long minus commercials. A couple of months after Happy Appy aired its first episode, Nickelodeon cancelled the show, and it was never shown again on Noggin or Nick Jr. Even the much more appropriate episodes weren’t shown for whatever reason. However, some parents did record the show, but they were VHS copies.

Of those said VHS copies, only a few survived through the years. The tapes were destroyed either due to neglect or disgust, or were simply misplaced and lost for a long time. I was one of the lucky ones that had a copy of the show. Yesterday, when I did some winter cleaning, I found an old DVD with sharpie written on it. It read ‘HA Episodes’, so I did some research on what the HA meant. My first choice was the forum about missing episodes/films that I normally go to.

When I entered the missing episode section of the forum, the first thread I saw was one named “HA? What’s this?” It was posted by a woman who had, like me, found a DVD with the initials “HA” on it. As I read the thread more, I found out that the initials on the disc stood for Happy Appy. This instantly reminded me of the weird low-budget show that I watched with my brother in 2000. In the replies, the users claimed that there are no known DVD copies around. I’m not sure how the disc got there, though. I certainly don’t remember owning a disc that looked like it!

After viewing the thread, I went ahead and put it into the disk drive, hoping that it would work. Thankfully, the disc did work, and it instantly cut to the intros of the episode, no menus or anything. Happy Appy’s intro song had the same tune as Mary Had a Little Lamb. It went something like this.

Happy Appy Appy App,

Happy App, Happy App

Happy Appy Appy App,

He helps kids all day!

Happy Appy Appy App,

Happy App, Happy App

Happy Appy Appy App,

He helps kids all day!

Happy Appy Appy App,

Happy App, Happy App

Happy Appy Appy App,

He helps kids all day!

I just want to point out that if you ever sing the song, the word “kids” is held, meaning that there is no pause between the words. Anyways, that’s enough with discussing the intro of the show. Here’s what the episodes are about. Episode 1 and 2 were called “Happy’s Vacation” and “Hurt Happy”, respectively.

Happy’s Vacation was exactly what you’d expect. Happy Appy goes on a vacation to the beach, helps injured kids, and even talks down a bully into not hurting a child. Hurt Happy was about Happy’s stick getting broken, and the kids teamed up to help Happy Appy by giving him bandages and fruit. Nothing seemed out-of-place when I first saw it, but when I saw it a second time, the episodes looked a little suspicious. When Happy was driving his van to the beach in Happy’s Vacation, some frames were skipped. At first, I just ignored it, saying that it could be a scratched DVD. But when I checked the disc, it had no scratches on it whatsoever. Also, during the fruit scene in Hurt Happy, the kids gave him an apple for whatever reason. It could have been a mistake by the producers, though.

Finally, I noticed some things in Hurt Happy that looked out-of-place. In Happy’s van, there was what looked like the border of the HOPE poster, but it was so out of frame that it could have been something else. Also, in Happy’s Vacation, the radio plays what sounds like a country cover of “Hot and Cold”, which was made in 2008 and very out-of-place for a kid’s show. I thought those were just coincidental. Well, I was wrong. Episodes 3 and 4 were stranger. The intros of these two episodes were cut out, but I found out that Episode 4’s name was “Nate Needs Help”. This struck out to me, because this was the very same episode I saw with my brother, but in English!

Episodes 3 and 4 were missing a few scenes, and, overall, more disturbing than Episodes 1 and 2. On Episode 3, about 5:10 in is when Happy Appy does his first evil smile for 25 seconds. One moment that could send chills down anyone’s spine was the Booboo scene in Nate Needs Help. Happy aids Nate, who has a bruise on his knee. He looks to the camera, giving off the same evil smile that I remember from 2000, and says "What does Nate need for this booboo?” For 30 seconds, he stared at the camera, motionless, with his dark blue soulless eyes locking on to anyone watching. Finally, he broke the silence with “That’s right, a bandage!” Why he needed that long to speak, I will never know.

Also, the out of place objects were getting more noticeable. There was a news broadcast about a 9.0 earthquake that recently struck Japan. Happy responded “Oh no! If you want to help the Japanese, call this number!” and a 1-800 number was listed.

Jul 25, 2013 at 09:40AM EDT
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A FEW YEARS AGO A MAN WAS WALKING DOWN A ROAD BECAUSE HIS CAR BROKE DOWN AND HE SAW A CAR COMING UP BEHIND HIM SO HE STUCK OUT HIS THUMB TO HITCH HIKE AND THE CAR STOPPED AHEAD OF HIM. HE RAN UP TO THE PASSENGER SIDE AND OPENED THE DOOR. WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR A SKELETON POPPED OUT

Last edited Jul 25, 2013 at 11:38PM EDT
Jul 25, 2013 at 11:38PM EDT
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Lenin Statue

Mother and father get little tired from building Communism, so they want to go to Moscow to buy vodka. They call most trusted babysitter. When babysitter arrives, children already sleep in beds. Babysitter just sits around and make sure everything good with children. Later that night, babysitter gets bored and goes to read Marx, but she can’t read downstairs because there’s no electricity (parents dodn’t want children reading Marx all night long).So, she calls parents and asks if she can get candles to read Marx in their room. Of course, the parents say it okay, but babysitter has one final request. She ask if she could cover up Lenin statue outside the bedroom window with blanket or cloth, because it makes her nervous.Phone line is silent for moment, and father who say, “Take children and get out of house. We will call milita. We do not have Lenin statue.”Militia find all three of house occupants dead because KGB kill them for trying to cover Lenin statue. Then militia arrest parents for not having Lenin statue.Such is life in Moscow.

Jul 28, 2013 at 02:04PM EDT
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It has been reported that some victims of torture, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not wake up. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren’t being tortured. The only way that they realized they needed to WAKE UP was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to WAKE UP. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP.

Jul 28, 2013 at 04:02PM EDT
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It’s sad because I had hope in this thread getting a few creepypastas that could scare me, but 90% of this thread is shitposting.
Such is the life on the internet…

Jul 29, 2013 at 03:34PM EDT
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She found her way into my home.

Please, I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to tell my wife about this, but she’s a science teacher and thanks to my history of practical jokes, she thinks I’m just kidding.

There is something stalking me. I don’t know what it wants, but almost every night since I started seeing it, it has terrorized me. It doesn’t touch me, it doesn’t communicate in any sort of way, it just fills me with horror. If what I seem to ramble, please forgive me… I haven’t slept in several days.

We live in the second floor of a duplex with stairs down the back of the house to the basement where the laundry machines are. There’s a door at the bottom of the stairs before the door to the basement that looks out onto our back porch and into the back yard. Six days ago, I was going down to the basement to bring up some laundry and I glanced out the door as I passed. There was a figure standing at the far edge of our yard. Her back was to me, and she was just standing there, looking into the woods beyond our yard. She was dressed in nothing but a light gown. It had lots of flowing material coming off of it that was whipping around in the air slowly. The whole scene creeped me out instantly, but I thought she might be a friend of our downstairs neighbor, so I continued to the basement. When I came back up, she wasn’t there.

The next night, I went down again, and as I passed the back door, I looked outside. The woman was back. She was exactly like she was the night before, facing away, not moving. The hair on my arms and neck stood up straight when I saw her. I was even more creeped out when I realized she was in the same clothes as the night before. That’s when I did something I shouldn’t have… I opened the back door. Leaning out, I called to her to see if she was okay. She didn’t respond. She didn’t make any sort of indcation that she’d heard me. It was freezing cold, so I shut the door and locked it. Coming back upstairs afterward, I looked out the window and she was gone again.

Later that same night, I was in the bedroom, getting ready to go to sleep. Everything was dark, because my wife had gone to bed before me. Our bedroom looks out over the backyard, and my side of the bed faces the windows, so I have to go past them to get in. As I was doing so, I suddenly got that same deep dread feeling in my stomach that I had gotten the first time I saw the figure in the backyard. Something compelled me to hesitate by the windows. My hands were shaking as I pulled the curtain back a bit and peeked through the shades into the backyard. It was a clear night, so the backyard wasn’t shrouded in darkness. The woman was standing in the middle of the backyard, no longer at the edge of the woods, facing the house with her head tilted up to look directly at the window I was peeking from. I jerked away instantly, afraid she had seen me. Her face was covered in shadow and hair, but I saw her chin and nose. A sharp nose and a thin chin. Gray. Her skin looks gray, I think. Her hair is black and long. I was so scared, I jumped into bed and covered myself with the covers.

The next day, I played outside in the snow with my four year old daughter. She wanted me to pull her on her sled in the backyard, but just the thought of going back there made me scared again, so I talked her into digging holes in the snow in the front yard. That night, things went from bad to worse. Somehow, I had managed to forget about the woman. Then, in the middle of the night, my daughter started crying. Our bedroom is just across the hall from hers. I thought she might need to use the bathroom or just be having a bad dream, so I went into her room to see if she was okay. She was uncovered, curled into a ball on her mattress. I pulled her covers over her and that’s when she whispered to me.

“Daddy, there’s someone in my closet.”

Instant goosebumps. I turned my head slowly toward the closet door at the end of her bed. Normally, the closet is shut, but now it was open. The woman was standing in my daughter’s closet. Not even when it was clear that I saw her did she move or make a sound, just stood there and looked at me through the cracked-open door. My blood ran cold when I saw her.

“Get up,” I told my daughter, “Get in my arms, quickly. QUICKLY.” she scrambled up and hugged me tightly and I walked backward out of the room, watching the closet the entire time. In my mind I imagined her throwing the closet door open and running at us, arms outstretched. I just hugged my daughter and walked backward into my room. The woman never appeared in the doorway. I heard no movement from my daughter’s room. I tucked her into my bed and stood there watching the doorway to her bedroom. I did not go back in, I just stood there and watched and listened. When I finally got the courage to climb into bed, I didn’t sleep.

Sunday, I told my wife everything. I told her about the first time I saw this woman, I told her about calling out to her and seeing her from the window. I told her that she had appeared in our daughter’s closet. She told me it wasn’t funny, that it was my fault for our daughter’s bad dreams and that I shouldn’t encourage her to be afraid of her closet.

Sunday night, my daughter called to me from her room again. Call me a coward, but I couldn’t go back into that room. I called her quietly to come get in our bed, but she cried and said she was scared. I wanted to go and get her, but I was scared too. I told her to pull her blankets up and cover herself. Just cover yourself, honey, and you’ll be okay. I prayed that it was true. I lay there, peeking over the sleeping form of my wife and out into the hallway at the closed door of my daughter’s room and just kept praying. I heard her cry a while longer, then she went quiet and I hoped that she was asleep.

Monday, I piled toys in front of the door to her closet. By that time, there was no doubt in my mind that this was some sort of ghost or apparition, but I piled things in front of the closet anyway. Like a pile of toys could stop a ghost.

Monday night, my daughter did not cry, but I didn’t sleep. I lay there, looking at the ceiling, tense. Around 2:00, I heard her bedroom door creak open and I knew something was wrong. She must be scared, I thought, so I called to her like before, “Just come to me and you can sleep in our bed, Sweety.” But she didn’t come. I peeked over my my wife.

The woman was standing there in the doorway to my daughter’s room. Her arms hung at her sides, her shoulders slouched down. Her gown was dirty, like it hadn’t been washed in years, and hung off her likes torn rags. I wasn’t breathing, I wasn’t blinking, I just looked at her and she looked at me and I thought this is it, I’m going to die. She never moved, never made a sound. I whispered, “Please, go away. Please, leave me alone. Please, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t look away. If I look away, she will get closer. I was sure of it. If I close my eyes, when I open them, she’ll be standing over me, looking at me. At some point, she was gone. It’s like I fell asleep with my eyes open. I don’t remember her disappearing, just that I was looking at the doorway, and she wasn’t there anymore.

Last night, I lay awake, waiting. I asked my wife to shut our bedroom door because the night light in the hallway was keeping me awake. It was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. Like clockwork, I heard my daughter’s bedroom door creak open. I held my breath. Then I heard the floorboards in the hallway creaking and I started shaking uncontrollably. I heard our bedroom door open, and I knew she was standing there, in the doorway, not moving, just looking at me. I didn’t look. I couldn’t. I did what had I told my daughter to do and pulled the covers over my head.

I am a complete mess. A zombie at work. I don’t want to go home anymore. I think I see the woman in other places. A glance while driving and I think she’s sitting in the passenger seat of the truck behind me, or standing down the street asI drive off. Just sitting here at my desk, someone passes by behind me and I jump. I’m afraid that if I turn around, she’ll be there, waiting for me to look at her. And what if I saw her face? I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see her anymore, but I don’t know what to do. The only hope I feel is that, for unrelated reasons, my wife is talking about moving. But our lease isn’t up until May. I don’t know if I can hold out that long.


Or was I meant to post a joke creepypasta?

Last edited Jul 29, 2013 at 07:59PM EDT
Jul 29, 2013 at 07:57PM EDT
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After waking up with a jolt, the girl laid in bed a few seconds longer. Reaching over to switch on her bedside lamp, she tried to remember exactly what had stolen her sweet slumber away. When she couldn’t, the brunette swung her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself up. Checking the time on her phone, she snorted when she saw it was three in the morning, the witching hour. Knowing that sleep would only evade her, she left her bedroom for the kitchen, a good cup of coffee on her mind.

As she passed by her front door, a chill spread like liquid fire down her spine. It’s only Winter, she told herself, focusing again on the coffee plan. Measuring out scoops, water, and preparing her cup kept her occupied, but as the dark liquid boiled, she had nothing left to keep her mind from wandering off. The chill returned and she couldn’t help but glance behind her to the front door. It stood there innocently enough, just like always. The deadbolt was still in place and she could see nothing amiss with it. Turning back to her coffee, she did her best to forget about the feeling.

With her cup in hand, she started back towards her bedroom. As she walked by the front door, she decided that a quick glance out of the peep hole would help calm her restless thoughts. The chill worsened with each step she took towards the door and further away from the safety and warmth of her blankets. She pressed her empty hand against the cold, metal door and took a deep breath before leading her eye to the peep hole.

At first, she could only see an inky blackness and somehow seemed to swirl in itself. When she blinked in surprise, the void melted away. She wished it hadn’t. In it’s place, there stood what she could only guess was once a man. The limbs were long and inhumanly awkward, with bulky joints branching off into several arms, not unlike the branches of a tree. The creature was draped in a black suit, somehow making the thing more nightmarish to her. The icing on the proverbial cake, however, was what passed as the hellish thing’s face. It was as though her mind blurred the ghastly visage to spare itself further shock and horror.

She shoved herself away from the door with the hand still pressed against it. The scalding mug of coffee fell, the liquid burning her bare legs as she fell backwards and tried to crawl away from the door. She knew, somehow, that her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her. As she crab walked away from the door, she watched as tendrils as black as the void itself snake around through the cracks. The girl was trapped between the instinct to flee and the gut feeling to not turn her back on the door. When the door jolted, the urge to flee overcame her and she slipped in the burning liquid as she tried to make it back to her room.

She knew deep down that she was trapping herself in a corner, but she had to get away from the door. The girl was halfway down the hallway when she heard the previously locked door creak open. She screamed and slipped into a wall, cracking her chin on it and stunning her.

After that, there was only blackness.

--

“Nicole?” a warm, male voice snapped the woman out of her trance. As she turned around, she was met by one of her sister’s doctor’s. She nodded, not sure if she should say anything, or even if she could find her voice if she did have something to say. That morning, she had gotten an urgent phone call from the hospital, saying that her sister, Lindsay, was there. Before they had even let her see her, the doctors had pulled her off to the side and insisted that they talk to her about what might have happened. Phrases like ‘self-inflected’ and ‘assault’ had been thrown around and Nicole felt her mind reel.

She still hadn’t fully understood what they had been saying until she saw Lindsay with her own eyes. Her little sister had a bandage wrapped around her head, covering both of her ears as well as her eyes. They said it was to keep her now deadened eyes from drying out and to try to keep infection out of the wounds Lindsay had made to her ears. The doctors had guessed that either she, or someone else had jammed a pencil into them to keep her off balance or to deafen herself against something. There was the mix of first and second degree burns on her hands, legs, and feet, from what was assumed to be the coffee her neighbors found spilled all over the entry to her apartment.

As Nicole walked into her sister’s hospital room the first time, she thought she had spied the silhouette of a man in the window. That, she knew, was impossible. Her sister’s room was on the third story of the hospital.

It was a tall man wearing a black suit, with a blank face.

Jul 30, 2013 at 02:20PM EDT
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Pollux wrote:

A FEW YEARS AGO A MAN WAS WALKING DOWN A ROAD BECAUSE HIS CAR BROKE DOWN AND HE SAW A CAR COMING UP BEHIND HIM SO HE STUCK OUT HIS THUMB TO HITCH HIKE AND THE CAR STOPPED AHEAD OF HIM. HE RAN UP TO THE PASSENGER SIDE AND OPENED THE DOOR. WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR A SKELETON POPPED OUT

Put your finger in your mouth.
Bite as hard as you can.

The skeleton inside you wants to get out.

Jul 30, 2013 at 02:28PM EDT
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Digoxin wrote:

It’s sad because I had hope in this thread getting a few creepypastas that could scare me, but 90% of this thread is shitposting.
Such is the life on the internet…


And since you asked nicely, I’ll post a “serious” creepypasta.

Aug 01, 2013 at 06:45PM EDT
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One day, I was playing Sonic R on the Sonic Gems Collection. I was playing as Super Sonic an I finished the race in 1st. I put the game down and went to grab something to eat.

I then heard “Can You Feel The Sunshine?” playing from my room, rather loud. I went to check it out, but as soon as I got to my room the music stopped and the game was at the character selection screen. The cursor was on Tails Doll.

I tried to move the cursor, but it would not move. So I pressed A and I went to the track selection screen. I selected Resort Island and the race started.

“Can You Feel The Sunshine?” was playing, but backwards.

I was a little creeped out, but I continued playing. As soon as I finished the first lap, the game shut off. The lights also came off. When I went to check the lights, I saw two red dots. I found that the lights were turned off and I turned them back on.

I looked at where I saw the dots, and I found a Tails plushie with a plastic gem sticking out of its head. I tried to pick up the plushie, but as soon as I touched it, I heard a loud scream. I pulled my hand back and looked around. As soon as I looked back at the plushie, it was floating. I was scared and I took a cross off of my desk.

“Hello, Cody.” the doll said to me.

It smiled as it moved closer to me. It’s eyes were black with red pupils, its teeth were stained with blood.

I held the cross in front of me, and the doll stopped. I moved closer to the doll and it moved away from me. I was able to corner the doll. Its smile faded, then I violently forced the cross towards the doll. The doll burned and its charred remains laid on the ground. I sighed in relief, thinking it was over. I then heard something behind me, but I was then unconscious.

I woke up and found myself in my desk chair. I had a slight headache,? thinking that it was all a dream. But then I looked at my TV.

There, I saw a bloody picture of Tails, a gem was sticking out of his head, and a message in blood that said:
CAN YOU FEEL THE SUNSHINE?”

And at that point I saw the same plushie, smiling at me. I feel that I should finish this before he GETS M-

CAN YOU FEEL THE SUNSHINE?!
(A page from the creepypasta wiki)

Aug 02, 2013 at 07:10AM EDT
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ALRIGHT, I KNOW YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS. I USED TO BE A SKEPTIC TOO, BUT EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT REALITY IS A LIE, AND YOU CAN’T KNOW THE TRUTH, OKAY? SO ONE TIME, WHILE I WAS LIVING IN SOME PLACE, SOME CREEPY SHIT HAPPENED. I SAW SOMETHING SCARY IN MY MIRROR. I TURNED AROUND AND IT SAID THE TIME WAS 13:666 OH GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! THEN I SAW A LITTLE GIRL SMILING AT ME, BUT SHE WAS, LIKE, A CREEPY LITTLE GIRL, SO WHATEVER. THEN A SKELETON POPPED OUT AND DISEMBOWELED HER, SO I WAS LIKE “OK, I’M DONE WITH THIS.” SO I WALKED OUTSIDE, AND I FOUND A TIME-TRAVELER WHO TOLD ME HE KILLED ARCHDUKE FRANZ FERDINAND AND ABRAHAM LINCOLN, WHICH IS WEIRD BECAUSE WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? SO JUST WALKED ALONG, THINKING THAT EVERYTHING WAS FINE NOW, WHEN THE SKY TURNED RED FOR SOME REASON.
THEN I FOUND A YARD SALE THAT WAS SELLING GAMES. I FOUND A POKEMON ONE THAT WAS JUST A BLANK CARTRIDGE WITH POKÉMON WRITTEN ON IT IN MARKER. I SAID “I’LL TAKE IT.” AND THE YARD SALE GUY WAS LIKEDUDE, THAT GAME IS HAUNTED.” AND I WAS LIKEBITCH I DON’T CARE.” THEN I PUNCHED HIM IN THE GUT AND LEFT HIM FIVE DOLLARS (WITH THREE DOLLAR TIP, OF COURSE). WHEN I GOT HOME, I STARTED PLAYING THE GAME. THE INTRO WAS HITLER GIVING A SPEECH AND NAZIS GOOSE STEPPING THROUGH A CONCENTRATION CAMP, AND IT WAS ALL HYPER-REALISTIC. WEIRD. AND I HEARD THE LAVENDER TOWN THEME BEING PLAYED ON AN ENDLESS LOOP, AND I THOUGHTFUCK.” BUT THEN IT WAS OKAY,

BECAUSE I FOUND A SECRET THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE GAME, AND I FELT PROUD. I THEN REMEMBERED THAT BEFORE I LEFT, THE YARD SALE GUY TOLD ME THAT THE KID WHO OWNED THIS GAME PUT SATANIC POWERS IN IT AND COMMITTED SUICIDE, BUT THEN I REALIZED THAT I DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT AND KEPT ON PLAYING. THEN HEROBRINE CAME ON THE SCREEN FOR SOME REASON AND SAID MY NAME, EVEN THOUGH I DIDN’T TELL THE GAME MY REAL NAME. CREEPY, HUH? SO I KEPT ON PLAYING AS NORMAL. I WAS TRYING TO LIVE CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA WHEN SOME UNOWN FLASHED ON THE SCREEN, AND WHEN I TRANSLATED IT, IT SAIDLOOK BEHIND YOU.” SO I DID AND THAT CREEPY GIRL WAS THERE AGAIN, NOT DISEMBOWELED FOR SOME REASON. I PATTED HER ON THE HEAD SHE TURNED REALLY TALL AND FOR SOME REASON HAS A SUIT ON AND IS A GUY BUT THEN HE JUST STOOD THERE SO FOR 6 MOUTHS I LOST MY MEMORY BUT THAN FOR SOME REASON DIDN’T CARE. THEN WENT BACK TO THE GAME, I DECIDED TO TAKE A BREAK (BUT I COULDN’T TURN THE GAME OFF, WTF?) WHEN I FOUND SOMEONE PM’ED ME THIS THING THAT I COULD HACK THE GAME WITH,

SO I DID WITHOUT QUESTIONING ANYTHING. I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT WOULD DO. THEN CHARACTERS STARTED TELLING ME TO TURN BACK, TURN OFF THE GAME, AND TO NOT GO TO LAVENDER TOWN, BUT I SAIDFUCK THAT SHITAND WENT THERE ANYWAYS. I WALKED UP TO SOME KID AND TALKED TO HIM. HE SAIDBEN DROWNED” I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK THAT MEANS, BUT WHATEVER. SO I LEFT LAVENDER TOWN BECAUSE THE MUSIC MADE ME WANT TO COMMIT SUICIDE. SOMEONE SAW ME, THEN I FROZE. HE WALKED UP TO ME AND SAID HE WANTED TO FIGHT. BUT WE DIDN’T FIGHT. THESE WEIRD MUTATED CREATURES DID. MINE ONE, AND HIS SUNK INTO THE GROUND. THEN I STOLE HIS MONEY, AND THEN ROBLOX. THEN THE GAME DELETED ITSELF, AND I COULDN’T GET IT BACK. NOW THAT THAT WAS OVER, I DECIDED TO WATCH TV. BUT BEFORE THAT, I WENT BACK ON THE COMPUTER, AND A FRIEND OF MINE WHO WAS ALSO AN INTERN AT NICKELODEON LIKE ME HAD SENT ME A WEIRD FILE. IT WAS CALLEDSUPERSUICIDESPONGEMOUSE.AVIUSING MY 1337 SKILLS ANDFAGGOT.EXE”, I GOT THE FILE ON MY TV AND WATCHED IT. IT WAS A LOST EPISODE OF SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS AND IT WAS CALLED "GOODBYE (INSERT MY NAME) SQUAREPANTS, WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO THEN THERE WAS ALL THIS VIOLENCE AND BLOOD AND SHIT, INCLUDING A SOVIET GULAG. THEN THE CREEPY LITTLE GIRL COMMITTED SUICIDE, AND I FOUND OUT THAT A LOTS OF CHILDREN COMMITTED SUICIDE WHEN THEY WATCHED IT. THEN THE SKELETON POPPED OUT AGAIN AND KILLED ME. THE END.

PS: YOUR NEXT!!!!

Aug 31, 2013 at 06:20PM EDT
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Once there was an ugly barnacle.
He was so ugly,
Everyone died.

Sep 03, 2013 at 12:30PM EDT

Jeff Drinks Ink

Jeff Drinks Coke and Eats Mentos

Jeff Drinks All The Tea In China

Jeff Loses The Game

Jeff vs. Hurricane Sandy

Jeff Plays Golf

Jeff Ties A Maiden To The Railroad Tracks

Hungry Hungry Jeff

Jeff Inserts An Entire Marching Band Into His Ass

Jeff Steals The Klopmann Diamond

Jeff Plays Action 52

Jeff Gets The Munchies

Jeff Has An Existential Crisis

Jeff Converts To Rastafarianism

Jeff Catches Thumbtacks On His Eyes

Jeff Gets A Pedicure

Jeff Gets Drafted Into The Military

Jeff Listens to Ziggy Stardust

Jeff Becomes A Cowboy and Joins the Circus

Jeff Goes To A Blood Drive

Jeff learns Kung Fu

Jeff Tries To Get His Drivers’License

Jeff’s Hot Flash

Jeff vs. Ringworm

Jeff vs. The Red Ring of Death

Jeff vs. The Blue Screen of Death

Jeff Takes Knockout Drops

Jeff Bites His Nails

Robojeff. Half man. Half machine. All serial killer.

Jeff’s Salt Lick

Jeff Suffers A Panic Attack

Jeff the Killer IN SPACE II: Electric Boogaloo

Jeff Gets His Teeth Knocked Out

Jeff Gets Gingivitis

Jeff Gets Shot In The Kneecaps

Jeff’s Hand Gets Chopped Off And Replaced With A Hook

Jeff’s Dick Gets Chopped Off And Replaced With A Hook

Jeff Becomes One Big Hook

Jeff Loses His Favorite Knife

Jeff Catches Smiledog’s Fleas

Jeff Gets Dragged Away By Wild Horses

Jeff’s Fancy New Boots

Jeff Sits Around Watching TV All Day

Jeff Goes To Qahog

Jeff Becomes A Stand-Up Comedian

Jeff Becomes A Ganguro (look it up)

Jeff Re-Enacts Goatse

Jeff Balances A Car On His Head

Jeff Burns Chick Tracts

Jeff hits BEN with giant Fists Of Graft™

Jeff’s Beer Belly (or should I say, blood belly)

Jeff’s Daiperfur Fetish

Jeff Spontenaously Floats Away

Jeff Watches Helplessley As BEN Degenerates Into A Mess Of Garbled Polygons

Jeff Forgets To Pay His Cable Bill

Jeff The Killer Freezes Into A Jeff-Sicle

Jeff Legally Changes His Name To Maximillian Danger

Jeff Stuffs Grapes Up His Nostrils

Jeff Gets A Pompadour

Curse Of The Were-Jeff. Phase one: your skin turns white. Phase two: your eyelids dissapear. Phase three: you have an incredible urge to wear a white hoodie. Phase Four: your hair turns long, greasy and black. And the final phase: a long, smile-shaped scar appears on your mouth!

Jeff Humps Slenderman’s Leg

Jeff Gets Plastic Surgery

Jeff Houses A Family Of Voles In His Hair

Jeff At The Sauna

Jeff Gets Shipwrecked

Jeff vs. Rule 34

Jeff Falls Down The Stairs

Jeff Founds A Wiki

Jeff Finds Out Smile Dog is a Transvestite Midget in a Costume

Jeff Eats Moldy Bread

Jeff Kills Dumbledore

Jeff Goes Back In Time And Kills The Dinosaurs, Gets Zapped Dead By The Time Police

Jeff Has Sex With a Pencil.

Jeff vs The 12 Steps

Jeff vs Scientology

Jeff Makes Deviled Eggs

Jeff Saltues His Shorts

Jeff Wedgies Slenderman

Jeff Commits Every Sin (Except for Lust Because He Couldn’t Get Laid).

Jeff Eats A Cat

Jeff Can’t Believe He Ate The Whole Thing

Fractal Jeff

Jeff VS 2012 (The Movie)

Jeff Falls In Elephant Poop

Jeff Grows A Tomato Garden

Jeff Dies (Of Old Age)

Jeff Gets Brainfreeze

Jeff Whizzes On An Electric Fence

Jeff Crosses The Streams

Jeff Gets Hit By A Falling Piano

Jeff Does Stuff

Jeff Kicks The Can

Jeff Likes Big Butts And He Cannot Lie

Jeff Plays AD&D

Jeff Makes A Killer Robot Shaped Like Himself Which Instantly Turns On Him

Jeff Is Shaved Bald

Jeff Hatches The Egg

Jeff Pumps Iron…Iron Maidens That Is

Jeff Paints Happy Little Trees

Jeff Gets Strapped To A Tomahawk Missle

Jeff The Quadruple Amputee (He’ll bite yer legs off!)

Jeff Needs Glasses

Jeff’s GIGA DRILL BREAKER!

Jeff Makes Out With A Cyberman

Jeff Finds A Gundam

Jeff Is So Tough, He Stubbed His Toe While Watering His Spice Garden And Only Cried For Twenty Minutes

Jeff Makes A Contract With Kyubey

Jeff Lactates

Jeff Attacks A Porcupine, Winds Up Covered In Quills

Jeff’s Chest Wig

Jeff Trades In His Knife For A Naginata

Jeff Goes To Starbucks

Jeff Itches Really Bad

Jeff vs. A Black Hole

Jeff Milks A Goat

Jeff Pissed In Your Popcorn

Jeff Wears A Rainbow Clown Wig

Jeff Mutates!

Jeff Eats An Unbelievably Spicy Enchilada And Breathes Fire For Five Minutes

Jeff Discovers The Portable Hole

Jeff’s Nosebleed

Jeff Turns To Stone

Tickle-Me-Jeff! Press his tummy and he murders your entire family!

Jeff Enters A Pie-Eating Contest

Guess What’s In The Pouch Of Jeff’s Hoodie?

Jeff Goes Bobsledding

Jeff’s Fingers Turn Into Minitaure Jeffs

Mr. J!

I pity da foo’ who don’t GO TO SLEEP

Jeff Goes Go-Karting

Jeff gets attacked by WEIRD MUMMY INSECTS!

Jeff Becomes a Cheerleader

Jeff The Janitor

Jeff Attempts Auto-Liposuction

Jeff the Panda

Jeff Doesn’t Forget to Bring a Towel.

Jeff Pilots A Dalek

Jeff’s fangirls make out with his petrified corpse from Furbearingbrick’s fucked-up dream

Jeff The Killer: The Pen &Paper RPG

Jeff Takes Up Tap-Dancing

Jeff Cleans Suicide Mouse Out Of His His Bellybutton

Jeff Retains Water

Jeff Gets A Sugar Rush

Jeff Inhales Helium

Jeff Gets The DT’s

Jeff Sheds His Skin

Jeff In Heat

Jeff’s Regular Coffee Is Replaced With Folger’s Crystals

Jeff Bakes Happy Happy Into A Pie

Jeff Churns Butter

Jeff Kills Pirates With A Magic Whip

Jeff buys a haunted N64 off of Ebay

Jeff shops at the black market

Jef gets a job at the supermarket and gets fired for spilling the eggs (he hates eggs)

Jeff gets blocked for not updating the Article Listing and pouts

Jeff gets a deep-tissue massage from Slendy

Jeff gives himself an atomic wedgie

Jeff Hates Santa

Jeff Rides Through Town Naked On A Dappled Red Horse

Jeff The Lardass.

GO. TO. BUTTER.

Jeff The Killer: The Animated Series!

Aw, man. You know they totally butchered this in the dub.

Jeff Wears Naugahyde

Jeff Goes On Tinychat

Jeff stumbles upon an abandoned shack and turns it into a bachelor’s den

Jeff is NOT the father

Jeff’s Facebook Account Got Hacked

Jeff Murders Everyone Responsible For SOPA and PIPA

Jeff’s Eyebrows Jump Off His Face (wait, Jeff has eyebrows?!)

Jeff’s Hangover

Jeff’s Spiralling Depression

Jeff Takes Prozac

Jeff’s Gambling Addiction

Jeff vs. The Thunderqueef

Jeff Snorts Pixy Stix

Jeff Is Tricked Into Looking At The Korean Screamer

Jeff Creams His Pants

Jeff Stomps Grapes

Jeff says Hi to Kevin Federline

Jeff Encounters A Metal Slime

Jeff and the Giant Peach

Jeff is Cold, Wet, and Miserable

Slendy Tries To Get Jeff To Eat His Broccoli

Jeff’s Space Heater Electrocutes Him

Jeff Whistles While He Works

Jeff Pours Hot Wax Onto His Face

Jeff Shrivels Up And Dies

Jeff Takes The Fruit and Scoots

Jeff Rapes An Entire Petting Zoo

Jeff Plays With Paperclips

Jeff The Killer Teaches Typing. Get a word wrong and you get a finger cut off.

Jeff’s Face Gets Pixellated

Jeff vs. Cockroaches

Jeff Grows An Extra Pair Of Arms (for extra stabbing)

Jeff’s Colonoscopy

Jeff Jumps Off The Golden Gate Bridge

Jeff Suffers From Micropenis

Jeff Is Inflicted With A Gypsy Curse

Jeff Rides A Unicycle While Juggling Bowling Pins And Smoking A Pipe

Jeff Takes A Relaxing (blood)Bath

Jeff vs. The Flies That Always Seem To Follow Him Around (seriously, he must REEK with the not bathing and the blood and all)

Jeff Sprouts Antlers

Jeff Gets Kicked In The Head By An Ostrich

Jeff Goes Hang-Gliding

Jeff Is Abducted By Aliens

Jeff Gets Stuck In The Chimmney (just don’t ask what he was doing there)

Jeff Breaks Into Fort Knox

Jeff Goes Window Shopping

Jeff the Misunderstood Alien Ninja Slug.

Jeff’s Tragic Nutella Addiction

NOTE: The following three entries are based on a true story. I’m not mentioning the name of the perpetrator, but it pretty much went down like this.

Jeff Makes Death Threats To An Admin On His Blog Post, Then Gets Butthurt When Called On It.

Jeff Makes A Wiki Dedicated To Insulting The Admin Who Banned Him and Denies He Did It; Said Wiki Gets Deleted 5 Minutes Later

Jeff Gets Globally Banned From Wikia And Pouts

Jeff sees this page and weeps for the future of humanity. THEND!

Sep 08, 2013 at 03:11AM EDT
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Well, I know you won’t believe this, but me and about five thousand other people all work at this one Nickelodeon Studio. And we got to watch episodes before they were released because somehow whether I get to watch them or not invalidate’s what my actual job is. So anyway, we got to watch a new one. The title card said “SpongeBob’s Fresh Start”, and it was white text on a black background.
When the episode started, it showed SpongeBob was at his parent’s house. He then said “Maybe I should play a sport…” So he went to a basketball court in Bikini Bottom. He was shooting some hoops when a gang came in. Me and some of the other interns thought this was a little bit of an adult theme for SpongeBob. But we just continued watching… The gang started to cause trouble and SpongeBob got into a fist fight.

Afterwards he ran home and told his mother, but his mother looked scared. She said “You’re moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.”

SpongeBob, looking confused, begged to stay, but she just packed up his stuff and sent him on his way,

We didn’t prior learn of this new plot. And it confused most of us.

Then he walked outside and called for a taxi. When it arrived, there were fuzzy dice in the mirror and the license plate said “Fresh”. If anything this cab was rare. Spongebob said “Nah. Whatever. YO HOLMES, TO BEL-AIR!”

At about seven or eight, he was finally there to sit on his throne as the prince of Bel-air.

THEN WE ALL COMMITTED PACT SUICIDE BY CHOKING OURSELVES WITH BUBBLE GUM AND CLAWING EACH OTHER’S EYES OUT WITH TOOTHBRUSHES.

Sep 17, 2013 at 01:43PM EDT
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I’m not afraid of anything.
Heights? Don’t faze me. I can stand on the top of my building, toes hanging over the edge as I stretch my arms out and close my eyes, and the wind that threatens to push me plummeting to a wet, crunching lump on the ground is practically soothing.
Cramped spaces? Not a problem. People with claustrophobia are just afraid to admit they can’t handle being alone with their own problems. In fact, I’ll take a warm, dusty, cavernous cabinet over an open crowd any day of the week.
The dark? Please. Of course, if I can’t see where I’m going, I’m likely to bump into something, fall and rip my shin open at worst, but that’s just common sense and lessons learned. Otherwise, put me in the middle of that field out back--where the grass never grows beyond wilted brown stalks, and the woods around are crawling with poisonous hornets and packs of wolves--and I think I could even meditate on the tranquility of my surroundings.
I’m not afraid of being mugged on a shadow-draped boulevard at night by some nameless waste of society; I can defend myself, if not by few well-placed kicks and a brick to the head, then with the knives I keep in my coat pockets, new enough that the light itself seems to be sliced when I whittle them through the air.
I’m not afraid of an act of nature, like so many superstitious fools and paranoids; should lightning strike me down and explode my organs as the energy of the sky makes its union with that of the earth, or if the earth should violently shift and split like dry skin to crumble the creations of man and make the very sea tremble, or if the sea should then decide to swallow the coasts in a roaring wall of briny suffocation… well, then there was nothing that could have been done, and I’ll find my peace as quickly as I look for it. And I’m not afraid of illness or accidents, of convulsing in my own secretions as I burn with blistering sores and vomit until my teeth yellow, or of simply walking into the crossing a moment too soon on the way to purchase a loaf of bread at the store, only be struck by a van and hear something snap inside me as a cool manhole kisses my cheek; if I keep my senses close and my body and mind fit, I have no-one to blame but myself and misfortune.
But I suppose those are common things, yes? True. But there are others.
I’m not afraid of the pulsing wad of tissue I found in the back of my closet one day, latched at head height like an ornamental mask. It looks like a brain and heart combined, ribbed and red and covered in a quartet of unblinking yellow eyes. It speaks sometimes, a backwards whisper emitting an icy wind that covers the closest shelves in bloody ashes by dawn.
I’m not afraid of the men that started appearing on the sidewalk, on the way to wherever it is I’m going. They differ in appearance beneath the tattered robes that drape their militant frames, but what little of it I can see is aging and distant. They hand me photos in a gauntlet as I pass, one each, and I sift through them to view scenes from my entire life, and yet not. This morning it was a grainy baby picture, a ten-fingered hand growing from the middle of my naked chest as I lay in a crib, followed by a shot of me as I am now, collapsed moaning against a winding alleyway as rats swarmed over my torso, and then an overhead view of my bisected husk in a coffin, old and shriveling. Different every time, the pictures will rot to nothingness before the day is over.
I’m not afraid of the gaping hole near the base of my kitchen floor that leads to an ancient stone staircase, which leads to a narrow attic unreachable and invisible from anywhere else. The walls are embedded with chunks of fur and bone, spelling out words no human has ever spoken in symbols no human has ever written. On occasion, the room will shudder, and creatures like beetles with mantis legs and winged centipedes will emerge from behind the mottled rafters to congregate about me.
I’m not afraid of the enormous puddle in the park, the one that moves and grows with the phases of the moon. The water within is a crystal-clear navy, even as stormclouds gather and the world’s color inverts the nearer I draw. I look in, and like a glass-bottom boat it reveals an ocean, stretching down, down, down into darkness punctuated only by beams of light rising from some unseen source. Silently, things swim and wriggle past: A small school of miniature tiger sharks, a submarine with hairlike tendrils, a kraken that slowly floats upwards until its gigantic pupil just barely surfaces before submerging once more. One evening, I stood and watched at sunset as a gray and jagged-toothed lobster the size of a city bus squirmed in and out of sight.
And I’m not afraid of the being that follows me wherever I go, as I can only assume that the times I don’t see it are the times it has chosen not to be seen. Not even of how its ebony-cloaked form, seven feet tall at the least, scuffles and sways upon dozens of twitching spider legs. Not even of when I wake up in the middle of the night to it sensuously running its shuddering fabric over the contours of my legs. Not even of the times I use a bathroom or buy a drink at the cafe on the edge of town, only to casually turn and see a flash of black cloth and spindly limbs disappear around the corner or through a doorway.
There have been others still--the serpentine and fleshless hand searching from my ceiling vents, the meter-like device by the nearest intersection dispensing coins with impossible dates that cling like nettles, the silver fog that materialized to make all within it appear freshly guillotined--but only five have endured. I was probably afraid once; there’s a chance I staggered back in unprecedented horror, desperately looking for something to hold on to as blood drained from my face; it’s reasonable to assume I lay awake in breathless terror, searching every source I could to discover what was happening to me; I wouldn’t be completely surprised to learn that I’d questioned God and science and my very sanity as I drew tears and shuddering breaths alone in my apartment, wondering what they were, why they came to me.
Maybe I was afraid of them, and maybe I still should be. The trouble is… I’m not sure. It’s not just that I have no fear--it’s that I can’t remember ever having it. I can’t foresee ever having it. And I know why.
It’s them. They take it. Take away my fear.
They’re all connected somehow, from the same world or some twisted corner of unspeakable mythology in our own. Oh, it’s not that they feed on fear--it’s more like a bond, a symbiosis. Because here, to people, to whomever they choose, they are fear incarnate. The Agents of Fear.
Don’t ask me how I know what to call them. Perhaps it’s something I’m meant to, by the very virtue of their presence. It doesn’t matter, because I’m still not afraid. And that’s why I’m writing this.
Because it’s killing me. It’s a bond, but it’s an addictive one, for them as much as for myself. As time passes, my fear remains tempered, but everything else is fading away. I look in the mirror to see myself pallid and thinning, veins a smoky shade underneath waning muscles. Food tastes like paper in my mouth, and drinks like toxic fluid. People swerve wide to avoid me in public, assuming I can even stomach being around them in the first place.
That’s what it does, losing your fear. At first it was just the obvious, the sharp objects and high drops and things that go bump in the night. But fear is the most potent emotion--even the dumbest insect has its fight-or-flight response. It’s tied to every other feeling there is.
And so I can’t remember mercy. I can’t remember inhibition. I can’t remember love. I feel numb, indifferent, dangerous, like a lobotomy patient with the icepick still jutting out. And again, that’s why I’m writing this.
What is fear? It’s uncertainty. You fear the darkness because you can’t see what it hides, but you wouldn’t fear it at all if you couldn’t imagine something hiding there. It’s the middle ground between ignorance and truth.
There’s something else between ignorance and truth: Stories. I used to think it was impossible to write about the things I was truly scared of, because I couldn’t face making them real, even just with words on a page. But now, I realize that’s the only way to stop them.
That must be what brought them, some creepy little tale I read in a decaying library book or stupid website. That must be why they hide what they are, why only I can see them. Because when you write something down, it becomes its own, a personal truth for all to know. And the fear is gone. Even now, as I type out these lines, I can feel the sensations flowing back to my tired body like a wave of purifying water. Compassion. Anxiety. Hope.
But when fear is written, it must become another’s. I don’t know what will happen when the last of them have vanished into poisonous dust or been sealed away with boards and mortar, when my fear returns in full and I realize the gravity of what I’ve been through, what I’ve done. Hopefully, I won’t harm myself too badly.
So as regret comes back to me, I’ll say simply this: I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but it was the only way. I suspect that if you’ve read this far, they may already be there, in your closet, on your sidewalk, your kitchen and park and every waking step. Maybe they’ll be different, and maybe they won’t. Everybody’s afraid of something different, and yet we’re all really just afraid of the same things.
It’s coming back to me. They’re leaving. Good, I need fear. I want it.
And now I can say that I am, I am afraid of something.
I’m just afraid of what’s going to happen when you find them.

Sep 18, 2013 at 03:10AM EDT
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I was walking & then a skeleton popped out.

Sep 30, 2013 at 07:29PM EDT

You know how Fox has a weird way of counting Simpsons episodes?
They refuse to count a couple of them, making the amount of episodes inconsistent.

The reason for this is a lost episode from season 1.

Finding details about this missing episode is difficult, no one who was working on the show at the time likes to talk about it. From what has been pieced together, the lost episode was written entirely by Matt Groening. During production of the first season, Matt started to act strangely. He was very quiet, seemed nervous and morbid. Mentioning this to anyone who was present results in them getting very angry, and forbidding you to ever mention it to Matt.

I first heard of it at an event where David Silverman was speaking. Someone in the crowd asked about the episode, and Silverman simply left the stage, ending the presentation hours early. The episode’s production number was 7G06, the title was Dead Bart. The episode labeled 7G06, Moaning Lisa, was made later and given Dead Bart’s production code to hide the latter’s existence.

In addition to getting angry, asking anyone who was on the show about this will cause them to do everything they can to stop you from directly communicating with Matt Groening. At a fan event, I managed to follow him after he spoke to the crowd, and eventually had a chance to talk to him alone as he was leaving the building. He didn’t seem upset that I had followed him, probably expected a typical encounter with an obsessive fan. When I mentioned the lost episode though, all color drained from his face and he started trembling. When I asked him if he could tell me any details, he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. He begged me never to mention the episode again.

The piece of paper had a website address on it, I would rather not say what it was, for reasons you’ll see in a second. I entered the address into my browser, and I came to a site that was completely black, except for a line of yellow text, a download link. I clicked on it, and a file started downloading. Once the file was downloaded, my computer went crazy, it was the worst virus I had ever seen. System restore didn’t work, the entire computer had to be rebooted. Before doing this though, I copied the file onto a CD. I tried to open it on my now empty computer, and as I suspected, there was an episode of The Simpsons on it.

The episode started off like any other episode, but had very poor quality animation. If you’ve seen the original animation for Some Enchanted Evening, it was similar, but less stable. The first act was fairly normal, but the way the characters acted was a little off. Homer seemed angrier, Marge seemed depressed, Lisa seemed anxious, Bart seemed to have genuine anger and hatred for his parents.

The episode was about the Simpsons going on a plane trip, near the end of the first act, the plane was taking off. Bart was fooling around, as you’d expect. However, as the plane was about 50 feet off the ground, Bart broke a window on the plane and was sucked out.

At the beginning of the series, Matt had an idea that the animated style of the Simpsons’ world represented life, and that death turned things more realistic. This was used in this episode. The picture of Bart’s corpse was barely recognizable, they took full advantage of it not having to move, and made an almost photo-realistic drawing of his dead body.

Act one ended with the shot of Bart’s corpse. When act two started, Homer, Marge, and Lisa were sitting at their table, crying. The crying went on and on, it got more pained, and sounded more realistic, better acting than you would think possible. The animation started to decay even more as they cried, and you could hear murmuring in the background. The characters could barely be made out, they were stretching and blurring, they looked like deformed shadows with random bright colors thrown on them.

There were faces looking in the window, flashing in and out so you were never sure what they looked like.

This crying went on for all of act two.

Act three opened with a title card saying one year had passed. Homer, Marge, and Lisa were skeletally thin, and still sitting at the table. There was no sign of Maggie or the pets.

They decided to visit Bart’s grave. Springfield was completely deserted, and as they walked to the cemetery the houses became more and more decrepit. They all looked abandoned. When they got to the grave, Bart’s body was just lying in front of his tombstone, looking just like it did at the end of act one.

The family started crying again. Eventually they stopped, and just stared at Bart’s body. The camera zoomed in on Homer’s face. According to summaries, Homer tells a joke at this part, but it isn’t audible in the version I saw, you can’t tell what Homer is saying.

The view zoomed out as the episode came to a close. The tombstones in the background had the names of every Simpsons guest star on them. Some that no one had heard of in 1989, some that haven’t been on the show yet. All of them had death dates on them.

For guests who died since, like Michael Jackson and George Harrison, the dates were when they would die. The credits were completely silent, and seemed handwritten. The final image was the Simpson family on their couch, like in the intros, but all drawn in hyper realistic, lifeless style of Bart’s corpse.

A thought occurred to me after seeing the episode for the first time, you could try to use the tombstones to predict the death of living Simpsons guest stars, but there’s something odd about most of the ones who haven’t died yet.

All of their deaths are listed as the same date.

Sep 30, 2013 at 08:02PM EDT
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No forgiveness. wrote:

I was walking & then a skeleton popped out.

2necro4me

So, since October is close, we should start posting creepypastas again.

Has anyone heard a song called Gloomy Sunday?

It was written in 1933 by a Hungarian named Rezso Seress. He based the song on a girlfriend that killed herself. It left a mark on
It didn’t take long before the song became famous.
When it did, suicides took place over the next weeks or so. Some hung themselves. Some were desperate enough to get a knife and slit their own throat. And at least 17 of those cases had a similarity: A disc containing Gloomy Sunday.

One would think it wasn’t the big deal. Those were dark times for Europe, and worse for the middle class.

But after WW2, the song got to the US. A bigger suicide wave took place between the 50’s and 60’s. Those were prosperous times for the US.

Coincidence?

Well, if you speak Spanish, here’s a link to a video about the song, and 2 other creepypastas.

I based myself on this video.

Sep 30, 2013 at 08:28PM EDT
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Don’t take it.
It’s a miracle and a glory and the greatest thing to ever happen, so they say, and it’ll probably become the law soon that you have to take it. They’ll have you swallow a little capsule when you’re still a baby; probably at the same time you’re getting your inoculations. The piece of the thing in there weighs only a few grams and will be plucked out of a little pool that will probably be installed in every hospital soon.

Those couple grams are more than enough for it to happen. Sure, you’ll never get cancer. You’ll live until a hundred and fifty. You’ll have stronger bones and a more resilient immune system. You’ll probably never need glasses or a hearing aid. If you lose something small like a finger, in half a year you’ll have it back. If you lose a whole arm, in two years you’ll have it back with nearly full functionality. It’s the sort of miracle that’s believable enough to catch on. It won’t solve all our problems, and it’ll even create a few more. Like overpopulation like we’d never saw coming. But it works and it’s cheap and it’s plentiful and that’s all we need. Sure they can’t quite explain how the thing actually manages to rewrite our genetic code after we swallow a few grams; but they promise the answers will come someday and that there are no ill side effects.

It’s from a ‘previously unknown variety of starfish; but they won’t even tell you that on the news. I think the story right now is that it’s something they’re growing artificially. These starfish live in the deepest, darkest places in the ocean and they aren’t very big or interesting looking. Honestly, we’ve probably seen them down there before a thousand times and just looked them over. It just so happened that prick with the show about eating weird foods got ahold of one, god knows how, and thought it was a different kind of starfish and ate part of it and a year later he had that foot he lost back. I’m sure they tore apart his house and tested gallons of his blood and interrogated everyone he ever spoke to, but somehow they figured out just when the regeneration happened and eventually found the fucking thing. It had been alive when he ate one of its arms and I guess he took a pity on it and let the thing live in a tank in his house. Well, this led to that and eventually they brought up a ton of the suckers.

But here’s the thing. Think about or technology and innovations; think about what they’re for. Mostly it’s to keep us alive longer, make us healthier, help us communicate better. What if, as a race, we’d already had the ability to communicate via thought? What if we were naturally incredibly hardy and long-lived? What if we started out having everything we needed without having to do a bit of work? Our goals would turn to keeping our world the way it was and simply enjoying things. With a mind so powerful it can transmit and receive thoughts with no effort, it stands to reason other amazing things are possible too. With that mind staying completely intact in even the smallest sliver of the creature, one has to wonder just what else that mind can do..

So now here’s the question. If you’d survived all this time just sitting around on the bottom of the ocean with this incredible intellect, how would you amuse yourself? What if that mind can wander and roam freely if it can just find something to carry it? What if as a race we made ourselves the bottom of the food chain just to ensure we’d constantly be taken into new creatures and allowed to see the world through their eyes? Is it really such a leap to think that such powerful minds could overtake smaller, lesser ones? No. Nor is it unusual to think that if such a race of powerful minds was endangered; they would use this ability to dominate the minds to defend themselves. That they’d patiently wait until their enemies devoured them, then simply displace the minds of those enemies and solve the conflict? I don’t think it’s crazy at all, and I don’t think it’s crazy that there’s suddenly a lot more war all over the world. A lot research put into birth control and the ‘accidental’ release of that superbug that makes men sterile. We should be enjoying world peace but instead we’re killing each other faster than ever before.

Maybe they’re not even threatened, maybe we’re just a game to them. Maybe we’re the hundredth race of beings these things have done this with. All I know is they don’t turn you into some zombie from a cheesey old sci-fi flick…they let you think you’re still in control; that what they want you to do is actually what you want to do. It all seems so natural, so right. Then we’re in World War III and the only thing the bombs won’t scorch clean is the floor of the ocean.

Don’t ask me how I know all of this, and don’t take that pill.

Oct 07, 2013 at 03:18PM EDT
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The following is transcribed directly from documents found in an abandoned German test lab by American soldiers during the aftermath of WWII, roughly translated into English.
(Audio Tape) Testing is to begin tomorrow. The team does not know what to expect. Our mission is to take new research and turn it into a weapon for the war-front. It has recently been discovered that the brain releases a (previously unknown) chemical when feeling fear. For obvious reasons, this test could be extremely dangerous.

Two test subjects have been selected, and from what we were told, they were sentenced to death, but are going to instead be used as subjects in this experiment.. Subjects are given a table with two chairs, a cot with a mattress, a stocked bookcase, a notebook and pen, and a bathroom area consisting of a toilet, a sink, and a mirror. Food and water are given through a small, sealable opening. I have nothing more to report at this time.
(Written Document) Test Subject A and B are being given the chemical in a small dose, mixed with water. Test Subject A has consumed the water, and has shown no visible changes in mood or behavior. Test Subject B has refused to drink the water. He has been forcefully given the same dosage, but by direct injection.
He gave some resistance, but was easily controlled and injected. Shortly afterward, he seemed nervous, almost paranoid, and jumped whenever he heard sudden noises. Subjects have been told to try and remain active, or sleep, not just idle.

(Written Document) It took time, but we have developed a gas based version of the chemical. If shown effective on subjects, this could become a valuable weapon. Dosage has been increased slightly. Neither subjects were aware that the chemical was being let into the room. After a few minutes, subject A stopped reading, and began to look around the room cautiously. After an estimated hour, he began to read again. Subject B immediately responded. He opened the notebook for the first time, and wrote “What is going on? Stop whispering to me. I do not want to hear you.” onto a piece of paper, ripped it out of the notebook, and slipped it under the door. No reply was given.

(Written) We are going to observe the effects of long term, low amounts of the gas on subject A, and we are going to observe the effects of a short, high amount period of the gas on Subject B. The results are shocking to say the least. Subject A progressively became more unstable. He stopped reading, would not eat, and avoided the mirror at all costs. He suddenly became very aggressive, and threw a heavy book at the mirror with surprising force, shattering it. Subject B’s reaction was more… curious. He began staring at the second chair. But he was not looking at the chair, he was looking as if he was making eye contact with someone sitting in the chair. Something seems amiss, but we are definitely getting results. The Führer will be most pleased.

(Vocal Recording) (The voice sounds distressed.)

We did not want this! What did we do to deserve God’s vengeance such as this?! Subject B escaped from his cell, the chair he was staring at was thrown across the room, straight into the viewing glass, instantly shattering it. It was 5 inches thick, reinforced… He didn’t even touch the chair… He has escaped out of the hole made by the impa- (a very loud scream drowns out anything being said.) HELP ME, HES RIPPI (Loud crunch) – The vents are leaking the gas into the rest of the facility! The power has gone offline, and he has killed off all the gau – Oh my Lord… Oh, no, no NO, NO, PLEASE! (there is a loud, beastly roar, and sounds of struggle. The rest of the tape is silence.)

(One final note was found. It seemed to be hastily written, and barely legible.)

They are dead. Everyone one of them. I hear him in the walls. I hear him whispering to me. Yes.. Yes.. Please come and take me away! I want no more of th

(And the note ends there, the rest too soaked in blood to read.)

In April 23, 1944, Allied soldiers found an abandoned German laboratory, with its only door sealed shut. Using explosive charges, they forcefully entered the laboratory, wondering what was so important that the Germans had to lock it away. They found 13 bodies, 12 of which had matching lab coats on, mangled to pieces, and in one case, ripped straight in half. The 13th body had nondescript, brown clothing, and no head. A larger scale investigation was launched later by the Germans as to determine what had happened, but was canceled after many German soldiers absolutely refused to return to the laboratory, even if threatened with their lives. To this day, nobody knows what happened to “B”, but he is presumed dead.

Oct 07, 2013 at 10:41PM EDT
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Skeletor-sm

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