Lying in bed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I hadn’t just happened to wake up so early. I checked the clock – it read 5:47, making me feel awfully suspicious, as it was two thirty when I went to bed, and there was no way I had gotten a full night’s rest in three hours. The fact that the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end certainly didn’t make me feel any more comfortable.

It was already warm; summer days got hot early in California, and the sun was shining brightly. This was no time to be nervous, after all, this sort of morning is what wards off the terrors of the nights before. The sound of a crinkling plastic bag had me frozen in my bed. I knew there was nothing to worry about, I was safe in the light of day, but still I was immobilized. Movement beneath the covers of my bed, towards my body couldn’t even get me to stir. It was all an illusion; I was safe. Even the most wicked of monsters vanish when daylight and reason come shining through.

I didn’t know then what kind of creatures may lurk beyond the twilight, but I know now what it takes to escape them. You may have something of value to give them, or a room mate to set them upon.

I had to give them my tongue.

I miss her, /x/, I really do. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I loved her with all my heart and soul. Do you know what it’s like to find your other half, so early in life as I did? It’s uncommon, let me tell you. It just might be the rarest goddamn thing to ever happen to a person, and it happened to me at twenty one. It’s not my fault, you know, she was the one who didn’t want commitment. I swear, every other word from her mouth was “restraining order” this, or “call the cops” that, but she must not have had the grasp on love that I did.

I blame her, personally, for how all this went down. If she had just tried, she would’ve seen how truly amazing our love could have become, but she never wanted to give it a chance. She just wanted to live with that joke of a husband she had, and keep working at her useless career. It was out of love I did what I did. I had to set her free from her prison. I couldn’t stand to see her so out of place from where she belonged – safe, with me – and so I killed her, knowing that if we can’t be together in this life, we’ll have all of eternity in the next.

Well, I guess that the reason I miss her is because of this girl I’ve met. She’s absolutely perfect, /x/. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I love her with all my heart and soul. It’s like she’s my other half. Do you know what it’s like to find your other half, so early in life as I have? It’s uncommon, let me tell you. It just might be the rarest goddamn thing to ever happen to a person.

In 1964, an otherwise ordinary man was committed to a sanitarium after assaulting a famous actor in a restaurant in Los Angeles. The name of the man, as well as what he looked like, was forgotten with time, but his strange encounter was retold many times by the owner of the restaurant, to add a bit of local flavor to his location. On one such evening, I was fortunate enough to happen in while he was recounting the story to a group of tourists.

“He comes in, an’ he just starts swingin’ away at the actor – busts open his nose, he does. There’s blood everywhere. I go an’ pull the bastard off him. ‘What the hell are you doin’?’ I ask him. He looks at me, his eyes wide, and he says, ‘You’ve got to let me kill this man. He’s going to end the world. It isn’t going to happen now, or when he’s in charge, but it will all be his fault, you’ll see, if you don’t let me kill him.’ He didn’t say much after that, because Casey came from out of the kitchen, knocked him out with the mop. We called the cops, they took a few statements, and left.” He looked around the group of tourists, admiring how he had captivated them. I was certainly impressed.

“So we offer the actor a free meal, but needless to say,” he pauses to set up the story’s punch-line, “but of course, he never took it.” The tourists all laughed, and he left to check on their meal.

On his way past me, I stopped him. “I stumbled in about halfway through your story, and I’m just a little curious. Who was the actor who got attacked?”

“Well, ain’t it the damndest thing,” he said, scratching his head, “It’s our new governor, Ronald Reagan. But hell,” he smiled, “It isn’t like he’ll ever be president.”

Mary had a little lamb, her fleece was white as snow. Everywhere that Mary went, that lamb was sure to go. She followed her to market, she followed her back home, she followed her out to the woods when she was all alone. Poor Mary stumbled through the brush, she had lost her way. But Mary, she was glad her lamb hadn’t gone astray. For days and days, the lamb and she, they wandered through the wood, until one long and tired eve, Mary lay down for good. She hacked and coughed, and grasped the lamb, her pet, she held it tight. Poor Mary never saw the morn, it killed her in the night. Little Mary bled to death, at the foot of a mighty pine, while the blood red lamb with its blood-red teeth started gnawing on her spine.

Lol what? I've never seen any of these before.

The timestamps are almost as paranormal as the posts. Author dump?

moar I say, moar

You feel an itch in your throat.

You try to cough it out, but it just won't come.

You struggle with forcing yourself to vomit. You drink lots of water, but whatever it is, it’s just stuck there.

You reach for the carton of milk in the fridge and sneeze as you raise it up. Something hits the floor with a rattle. You look at the floor and see a small button with a flowery design
on it.

Then you look up. On the milk carton, you notice a missing kid. Her blouse shows the same buttons.

>>744106
facepalm.jpg

Walking in graveyards shouldn't be scary. The things under the ground there are dead. They can't hurt you now.

It's the lively places, the carnivals and theaters, places where people gather and crowd and swirl together.

Those are the feeding grounds.

Go to any mirror and put your hand against the glass. Don't worry, nothing will grab you. Wait. Sometimes it takes half a day, sometimes it takes a moment. But you'll yank your hand away when you feel it.

Worms or centipedes, who knows? All pressed in tight like there's no more room on that side, wrigglng against your skin. When you pull back, the glass is the same and you'll be unharmed.

But now you know it's there.

Porcelain dolls, baby dolls, plastic things with vacant eyes that stare at nothing--little girls always get at least one. It's not because they all want to play mommy. Most of them think those dolls are creepy, too.

They're training tools for when the girls grow up and have children of their own. For when they look down into the bassinet and see their baby's smile has grown forced, the laughter turned into a rattle, their eyes too intelligent and cold. They recognize what it is and kill it quick.

It doesn't happen often, but it happens. And when they have a daughter that makes it to childhood, they make sure she has a baby doll of her own.

>>744106
OM NOM NOM

>>743802

I don't know about the others, but>>743799is definitely not new.

Bump, these are amazing.

MOAR MOAR MOAR. Incredible stuff here guys.

charging my bump
preparing to fire bump
bump fired

http://www.anonib.com/paranormal/

The first time we moved houses was when I was 8. We moved into a rather small three bedroom house that was; get this, about a mile from a graveyard. No big deal right? I thought this was cool and, being eight, I decided to find out if there were ghosts and shit.

I guess the first warning sign I should have had was when the real estate agent told us to stick together in the house because of a 'roach problem'. Naturally, the first thing I did was sneak off and go into the kitchen of the house. It was completely empty--white walls and a few connections.

I don’t know why but I thought ghosts would hide, so I walked through the kitchen and into the hallway and into a bedroom. Christ. There was an old armchair facing a wall. I skipped over too it to see what was up. The chair noiselessly slid across the room.

As it did so, the door to the closet opened, and the chair backed in. I got a quick glance at a grinning, bony old man sitting in the chair. I was now staring into the tilted face of an old, withered man. The skin around his eye-sockets had been torn away and all that was there was black. His lips and teeth were gone, it was black. Yet something about his smile made me want to see him again, I walked towards the closet, and opened it.

The old man jerked forward and grabbed me, I screamed. Instead of touching me, his hand went THROUGH my body and I felt him grab something deep in my chest. My entire body went freezing cold at the touch of his icy fingers in my chest. The man glared through me and his voice rattled as he spoke to me, "I'm hungry", and pulled me towards the closet. The door closed, and at that point, thank god, I forget what happened.

My parents say they came into the room and heard nothing, nothing at all. Then they opened the closet, and at that point, they found me on the ground screaming at the door, clawing at the ground so hard that one of my fingernails came off.

I've been to psychologist and hypnotists, I even spent a month in a mental hospital, but I still have no idea what happened after that door closed. I do have nightmares though. Lots of them.

We didn’t buy the house.

My dad used to work out in the Philippines as a JAG. So one night he's on the base, sleeping in the barracks… just sleeping.

Suddenly he wakes up and feels a sharp pain on his chest. So he looks down, and there’s this dude with his eyes and mouth sewn shut standing on his chest. The dude looks just like anyone else, only about 75% smaller, standing on his chest with a plow of proportionally smaller size. The dude looks to him with his sewn shut eyes, looks at the plow, and then starts dragging it across his chest, like its fucking wheat season or something.

Naturally, my dad goes ape-shit and swats at him, as his hands pass through the dude, said ghost disappears in a cloud of shining dust. The cut is there, and it’s really deep. They found rust in the wound and gave him tetanus shots.

Naturally, the shrinks said it was post traumatic stress disorder from a case involving a soldier who went out hunting and accidentally shot a twelve year old boy who lived on a nearby farm. The weird thing is, this incredibly deep cut (it cut infinitely close to his kidney, but missed) healed with no major marks.

Dad forgot about it until I was born with a scar right were he was cut....

>>744497
>>744496
GHOST RAPE!! THE PAEDOPHILE GHOSTS ARE COMING TO RAPE US!!!!!!!!!

lol i enjoy the ghost cock

Have you ever conisidered how simply we hold on to sanity. Sometimes people turn insane and never even know it. I wouldn't worry about it though, you know it was just a dream when you killed your best friend, you know, the one who you haven't seen in a while?

It was a bleak afternoon when I got the phone call. It was Mike, and I knew something was strange – we were never that close, especially not close enough for a phone call. He spoke quickly, insisting that I come to his house within a few hours. He promised me others would be there, and with no other plans, I took his address and said I’d come.

I arrived about forty minutes later and Mike showed me in. Nobody else turned up. I felt sad in a way; he’d always been a bit of a loner. He looked pale and sunken, like he’s barely slept. Mike sat in an armchair wedged tight against a wall and I sat in an adjacent two-seater. His speech was rushed and uneasy. “Sorry to drag you into this, but I need to talk to someone.” I noticed his eyes couldn’t keep focussed. “You heard about that video, you see it and seven days later, you’re dead?” I nodded. Who hadn’t? “Bullshit.” He sputtered. “But last week I heard something. I got told that, once you know about it, you’ve only got four days left.” The light behind him flickered and went out, plunging his half of the room into darkness. He seemed unphased. “You don’t need to know what it is, or why it does what it does.” There was a nauseating sound, like flesh painfully being torn, over and over again. “You just need to know that it exists.” The sound was clearly something moving, but it was drowned out by the sound of Mike’s scream, that was cut short by a deep, mournful wailing that sounded terrifyingly human. The light flicked back on, and the armchair rest on it’s side, suddenly stained crimson. A stench of mould lingered in the air.

Interpret this however you want, and I’m sorry for any lack of coherence. I just needed to get this story out, and, as you can appreciate, I’m short of time.

>>744751
I hate you. :(

>>744751
Not bad.

>>744751
terrible.

>>744751
get it away! bo BOO

It was late, very late, and Ted still couldn't sleep; jet lag from the flight left him with little to do but lean against his headboard and flick through the upper channels of his hotel room's TV. Japanese television broadcasted some weird shit, especially in the early AM hours, and at least that gave him something to do while he waited for the city to come back alive for the morning.

The game show had been interesting enough, full of enough abject humiliation and public nudity that it seemed rather ridiculous for anyone to accept a spot on it for the paltry prizes given to those who successfully completed a challenge. Some of the contestants even broke down in tears when it was revealed what they had to do on what was presumably nationally-broadcast television. It became obvious that the only "winners" were the audience, and admittedly Ted was happy to be a part of it. There was a pure voyeuristic thrill in watching some idiot desperate for free stuff part with all dignity for a cheap toaster. What came on after the clock rolled into 4am and the credits finally ran, however, was even more disconcertingly addictive; apparently, the Japanese had seen "The Blair Witch Project" and decided they could go one better.

>>744973
There were no subtitles - not for something this far into the broadcast downtimes - but the premise was easy enough to figure out. Grainy shots from "hidden cameras" placed in various locations captured voyeur shots of people in every day situations... as they were shown being silently stalked by men dressed in a variety of hilarious costumes. Some anime-twisted version of Mickey Mouse haunted an elderly woman's visit to an almost deserted supermarket, a weird bug-thing in a thong snuck through the empty halls of some fancy resort, and a Village People reject crept up on some sad drunk stumbling around a park. It was entertaining enough like that, but became positively captivating once Mickey pulled a knife. Sometimes the chosen victims managed to escape - the old lady spotted her pursuer around an aisle and managed to flee to her car, speeding off into the distance with the oversize mascot still struggling to make it through the small door of the marketplace. The drunk wasn't so lucky, and a distant camera shot showed him being gruesomely set upon by a bad copy of a Cherokee in full headdress wielding a tomahawk. The rough camera angles, cuts of static, and green tint of nightvision made the whole thing seem freakishly real - sick voyeurism at its peak of perfection.

>>744974
And then, Murphy being Murphy, the television cut out mid-broadcast. Ted felt around for the remote, contemplating throwing it straight through the damn thing as he stared at his reflection in the now dead glass of the screen. Before that, however, he tried the power button - maybe he'd sat on it again accidentally - and his reflection suddenly changed position. The Ted on the TV immediately became its own mirror image, shifting everything from the lamp on the bedside table to the hand holding the remote. Trying the power button again flipped the image once more, restoring it to its original position and leaving the owner of the reflected image staring at it in complete confusion. It was only then that he noticed the tiny camera set on top of the screen.

>>744976

shut up

>>744989
Eh, I gave it a shot. If you don't like it, feel free to rewrite it to make it creepier. It probably would be better if condensed down to one post in length - didn't realize how long it was until I hit submit. I was trying to set the stage, but if you think it's rambling feel free to cut out the parts you think are unnecessary. Maybe the ending is too obvious, too, if you want to try and obscure it a bit. I just figured I could throw out something original and see if anyone liked it, or thought it had some promise.

If you care to watch it, here's my inspiration:
http://www.neave.com/television/

>>744997
I thought it was a good effort, just needs some editing

>>744976
I thought it was good, sounds like the pening scene to a film. But what the hell does "Murphy being Murphy" mean?

>>745029

Murphy's Law

>>745029
I meant to put opening instead of "peening".

>>745031
And what's that? Sorry for sounding mongy.

>>744976
FUUUCK

Whatever the other guys said, this had me shitting bricks. And I think I've read pretty much all creepypasta in existence by now.

>>745036
That if there is a little small chance something usually unlikely (and usually bad) will happen, it will happen

>>745036
Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

>>744997
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I really liked this.

>>745029
>>745031
I agree, it took me a while to understand that phrase too. I got it about three sentences later and had to read back.

>>745036
1. If something can go wrong, it will. If nothing can go wrong,
2. If the possibility exists of several things going wrong, the one that
will go wrong is the one that will do the most damage.
3. Everything will go wrong at one time.
4. If nothing can go wrong, something will.
5. It will go wrong when you least expect it.
6. Everything takes longer than you think.
7. Left to themselves, things always go from bad to worse.
8. Nature always sides with the hidden flaw.
9. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked
something.
10. If in any problem you find yourself doing an immense amount of work,
the answer can be obtained by simple inspection.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphy%27s_law

http://www.neave.com/television/

o shit


some scary shit popped up

so the other night, it's really dark and i'm sleeping over at my friend dave's house. i crawl into bed with him and start sucking his cock. i get it about halfway down when i think: OMG THIS DOESN'T TASTE LIKE DAVE'S COCK! and then dave's door opens and he comes in from going to the bathroom!!!!!OMG111ONE!!!!

>>745112
Quit trying to be the new WHO WAS PHONE.

>>745138
i wasn't. i was just writing a super queer story.

Donald Crowhurst, the British sailor who disappeared during a sailing race in 1969, left behind three logbooks on his trimaran. Two contained the false course he had been plotting to make it appear as though he was winning the race. The third contained a bizarre series of coordinates which seemed to trace a course through the Gobi Desert from a town on the Chinese border, as well as a few short notes about 'the fourth and final gate'. The British MOT confiscated the third log and has denied its existance.

Crowhurst's boat, the 'Teignmouth Electron', was towed to Grand Cayman and beached. Despite no damage to its steering gear, it refused to sail straight in any heading but one, towards the final coordinate from the log.

>>745200
>Crowhurst's boat, the 'Teignmouth Electron', was towed to Grand Cayman and beached. Despite no damage to its steering gear, it refused to sail straight in any heading but one, towards the final coordinate from the log.

OK until that part.

>>744973
>The game show had been interesting enough
>The game show had
>The game

>>745200
i thought it was very good

>>745211
Oh fuck you.

A trapper working north of Blind River, Ontario in 1921 brought in an unusual specimen of the gray wolf. It was over six feet long, yet severely emaciated. He said it was already dead when he found it. After being skinned and cleaned, the pelt was packaged with others and left at the CPR depot for the next train to Port Arthur.

When the next train arrived three days later, the locked storage room had been opened and the pelt was found to be missing. Other than deep marks on the inside of the door, there was no indication of theft, nor any clue as to why thieves would take only a mangy old pelt.

Certainly, it didn't get up and walk out on its own.

Certainly.

Every area of the United States has its strange laws. They can range from the funny to bizarre, and are often made into trivia tidbits. Mostly, they make you sit and think about what kind of situation would have prompted the passing of that law. Like the law in Geraldine, New Mexico (population: 137), which states that "between the months of May and August, no citizen may leave home after dark without carrying a weapon capable of inflicting severe damage".

>>744997
Some of that sit was so creepy, like the creature/woman

>>745085

Shit froze my browser

>>745274
Shit posed my Bowser.

Mhm.. Hairy eye. I bet I can't sleep for a week.
>>743793

>>745256
Uhhhm...Bandits.

Ok yor son wakes u up at 3am of the mornign, he looks like his been crieing.

-dad does ded people moves?
-no Jimmy... dead people cant move
-then why is mommy doing in my bedroom?
-wat?!

>>745307
Cut it out already. Please.

>>745314
i've never tried this approach with a troll. let me know if it works.

>>745330
Seeing how the troll in question is a namefag, I think it's worth a try.

>>745345
we seem to be the only ones bumping the post at this point, so i think you may be able to declare victory (do it quietly so as not to alert other trolls). i guess it was just a meme forcer.

Hey faggots, post some fucking creepypasta or shut the fuck up.

>>745353
*rambles on some more just to annoy you*

>>745307

I miss the days when name/tripfags at least had a greater than second grade-level understanding of spelling, grammar, and basic sentence structure.

I'm usually not a grammar nazi, but damn man... that was literally painful to read.

>>745353
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=XIl5YwcO72g

Creepiest Pasta Ever.

Driving late at night, it begins to rain. You turn down the stereo and pull over to the side of the road. You slowly turn the key and the car sputters to a halt. Moonlight glistens through the drops as they pool and run down the glass. You close your eyes to appreciate the serenity and drown your thoughts in the storm.

Minutes or hours later, a rap-rap-rap on the passenger window jolts you from sleep. Breathe fast head hits seat knee hits wheel. You straighten yourself in the seat and take a breath. Rap-rap-rap. Leaning across the car, you roll down the window an inch and water pours into the car.

"Hello?"

You can make out the figure of a man, drenched in water, glistening in the pale night's glow. "Hey man, you goin' this way?" he shouts over the pelting rain.

Groggy, you contemplate the statement, and brave another couple of inches on the window.

"C'mon man, it's freezing out here," he pleads.

Darkly dressed, with long hair sticking to his face and back, the man rests a large hand half-inside the crack in the window. "C'mon man, let me in."

This guy doesn't seem too bad, and the storm has doubled in intensity. You unlock the door, and he lets himself in.

"Where you going?" you ask as you fasten the seatbelt and turn the key. The engine groans and lurches to life.

The man points down the dark road and says "As far as down there as you're going."

>>745362
Protip: it's not real. He's pretending to be a moron for teh lulz.

>>745387
...proceed.

>>745387


This is relevant to my interests

>>745387
fucking moar.

>>745387
cont...

Fiddling with the radio, you ask "What kind of music do you like?"

"Hm. Anything's good," he replies. "Just keep it down, I've got a bit of a headache." You fake fiddling around with the tuner, but there's only a couple of stations. You settle on a local pop-radio; they all play the same thing anyways. "Do you mind if I turn on the heater?" the stranger asks.

"Hm? Oh, no. Sure, go ahead." He fumbles with the controls and sets the heater on high.

The whiny tune of the radio does nothing to dispel the silence. You sit quietly and stare ahead, trying not to attract any more attention than necessary. Droplets run down the windows as the wiper's rhythmic squeels wipe them away.

You realize that the car is getting stifling, and the windows are beginning to fog. You pull a hand into your sleeve and reach for the windshield to clear the fog. Your headlights sweep across a form standing in the road, and you slam on the brakes, swerving to avoid it. You yell as the car swings left, and in the chaos, you can make out a dull *thud* near the back of the car.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What have I..?

You release your grip on the wheel, and run out into the rain. Water splashes on you with every step, and you crouch over the crumpled heap in the road. Long black hair covers the motionless visage, mouth stretched into a horrified grimace.

Slowly, you stand and back towards the open door. You stare long and hard at the body in the road before ducking back into your seat. You turn to say something to your passenger, but there's noone there, only a damp seat.

>>745411
I should have done more editing. Oh well, it was impromptu. Maybe in the future I'll put more work into them.

First attempt at pasta, usually only read it. It seems waaaaaay too short, but I can't seem to expand it.

Dave was all huddled up with his dog on the couch. His worst nightmare: the power was out, and rumbling thunder and crackling lightning were shaking the very foundations of the house.

Dave huddled under the blanket a little more when lightning struck just outside the window, judging by the flash it produced. Then, it struck him that there was a tree outside the window, and that it might've caught fire, like his house did five years ago.

He opened the curtain, and saw that it was completely sunny out, without a hint of rain.

The rumbling and crackling continued to come from overhead...

Ok I made a OC thread a few days ago and posted two creepypasta I wrote, dunno if posting them now would be OC but whatever

Dear Amber:

It’s hard to describe where I am right now, not for the lack of words that exist to describe such horrible thing, but for the sadness that fills my heart and wets this paper with tears every time I think about it. But you need to know, I know you do. I know after such an introduction your curiosity needs to be satisfied. It’s ok, I already prepared myself for this painful endeavor, that is, letting you know about what really happened with me after the day our fates split, that dreadful night; the night God’s hand pushed me away from you, my dearest, loved Amber.

…

>>745433

I’m not going to make this introduction longer and will move forward.
The first thing I remember after the crash is that I woke up in a big room soaked in darkness. I couldn’t move or feel my legs, my arms felt trapped, the vertigo suddenly hit me letting me know that was on the roof, the dark pit below me, facing me, restraining me of fighting to get off from the roof, afraid of the fall.
It was painful Amber, I spent days stuck in there, stuck in that darkness not being able to move or talk, since something was keeping my mouth shut. The pains of those days were only the opening ceremony. Weeks after that a light, strong and distant, shinned upon the room, lit up the horrors hidden on that room, the horrors I’ve ignored for so long. Somehow, I missed the darkness.
On this part, I beg you to open your mind Amber, and please…please believe what I will say.
The light showed me that I wasn’t alone in that room. There were thousands of us there, or what’s left of us I’d rather say. On those others I saw myself reflected, all of us the same, all of us crying, all of us grieving. We were all over the walls; I had someone few inches next to me and didn’t notice until then. We had no arms or legs, they were part of the wall, I couldn’t tell when the wall ended and when the limbs started. Our mouths- no, we have no mouths, I still feel my tongue but our lips are gone, just more skin where the opening used to be.

>>745434

The light… the light finally spoke to us. The message was unsettling, enough to make us cry in despair, and try to shout but not even a moan came out… “Wait for your turn” -he said, his voice was filled with mercy, yet, his hands were filled with blood.

He had a crown made of golden thorns, his chest was opened, letting all of us stare at his black heart, dyed red in some parts red of his blood. His skin, white and silky. His face, perfect in every way, especially in the eyes, those soothing three warm and wild eyes. His hands were deformed into claws; he had nothing on top, wearing an gold and white robe waist down. Grinning widely at every one of us. I still remember when we looked at me the first time, all my sadness disappeared for a second, but when he turned away reality slapped me back. His soothing voice and eyes weren’t enough to not see what he was doing. Like helpless sheeps we were being slaughtered one by one.

>>745438

First he would ask the victim if he had sins to repent, then with his claw deformed hands covered in blood of his previous victims he would shove his finger in their mouths, opening them, cutting through the skin patch covering them. It was a horrible thing to see and to hear, they would just scream from the pain, and he hated the screams, he would often shout, changing his calm voice into a unholy scream “DID I SHOUT WHEN YOU NAILED ME” and proceed to open their stomachs, leaving the guts hanging and moving into the next one. They just keep screaming and crying, it seems we can’t die no matter how much we bleed… my turn will be soon, Amber. I’m scared.

I was ready to give up, then something came to me, it was a winged woman, so beautiful it hurt to look at her for long; she released my arm and gave me a feather and a paper. She told me I could write to someone in the world, after the horrors I’d witnessed I didn’t know if to believe her, but the idea of writing to you, my dearest Amber, was enough to believe. She gave me no ink, and vanished quickly whispering me to call the name of “Mary” when I was ready to send the letter.
I wrote all this using my blood, the only ink possible, and this is where my letter ends.
I love you Amber. Make sure to live long and happy.

Yours truly, André.

>>745442

What made you choose the name Amber?

>>745446

Amber is my little sister.

>>745454

Oh ok cause its my name too

>>745387
>>745411

samefag here,

I'd like to do an illustration for this story now. Don't let thread 404 ;_;

pic related

>>745433
>>745434
>>745438
>>745442

I thought this was really good. Nice job.

wen i got raped by peter the U.F.O

Submitted by UFOGUY THE SECOND on Tue, 06/24/2008 - 08:50.

it was a dark and drooly nyt wen peter got me in his syt, i was scared and confused i was sexualy abused, he put it in and out and then i started to shout, PETER THE U.F.O IS BUMING ME!!!!!!. i a woke to find tht peter had mesed wif my mind, then continued to do me from behind. =]

Have you ever wondered why some houses, specifically olded, 'darker' houses, have circular door knobs, instead of the simpler and more elegant door handles?

Let me put it this way, have you ever thought how damn near impossible to get through a door with a circular knob would be with your hands missing?

Your daughter wakes yu up in the middle of the night, complaining of a bad dream.

"Do you want to sleep in our bed tonight?" You groggily ask, surreptitiously sneaking a glance at the clock. About 3 am.

Surprisingly, she shakes her head no.

Curious, you ask why.

"Because in my dream, this is when the thing wearing mommy's skin moved."

As she says this, your wife sits up, yawning.

>>745433
>>745434
>>745438
>>745442
Awesome story.
bumping for illustration mentioned in>>745459

It's 3 AM.

Your children are sleeping soundly in their beds.

Somewhere in the White House, a phone, a very important phone, a RED phone, rings.

Hillary Clinton answers it.

>>745543
scanning and cropping now.

>>745549
Awesome.

>>745411
Here it is. author's interpretation :P

>>745547
MAN, WTF??

>>745553
This depicts the scene of the crash that sends the narrator into fucking creepyland, right?

yeah. I just noticed how loooonngg the front of the car is.

oh well

>>744106

does that mean you ate her blouse?

>>745559
Longcar is llloooonnnggg.
Also, moar.

>>745536
Shit. That creeped me out

Bump.

Walk into any gas station at any time of the day and ask the person at the register for change for $1. On this change will be the faces of long dead historical figures.

I cant sleep peacefully anymore... and i honestly cant say why. For 2 years now, around 3:00am every night, something tries to yank the covers off of me, and i fight with it for hours. I call it "it" because im too chicken shit to open my eyes. I dont want to see what it could be... i feel as if im as crazy as i can be without going totally mad as it is.

It all started from the closet i found in the basement. Its there, in my dreams. Large wooden doors that slide on tracks. If i ever open it, i know this thing will win... but if i dont... im doomed eithier way....

>>745387
samefag here, gonna try another:
-----------
Part 1
-----------
You're awoken by violent shaking. You're skin is cool and clammy, and you've kicked the sheets off. Your heart races as the shaking stops, and suddenly, you hear a loud THUMP. Thump. What's all that racket? You reach over to hit the alarm, but it's not on the table. Thump. You flail your arm searching, but the clock is nowhere to be found. Thump. It must have been knocked down. The noise grows quiet and rhythmic. Thump. You pause to listen, holding your breath.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You can barely make out a muffled, distant rhythm. Each beat is quieter than

Thump.

the last, until they stop completely. "I wonder what that was," you think to yourself. You lie down and fall back to sleep.
-----------
Part 2
-----------
Daddy doesn't believe me, but I think mommy is alive.

I heard her moving when they lowered the coffin.

It's late at night, you realize, you'd like a glass of water. This isn't strange, you've wanted this before, so you get up, and get a glass.

With a short burp, you put your glass on the counter. Refreshed, you head back to bed, only to realize that you're still thirsty.

This continues for a while, until after about 10 glasses, you know something is wrong.
The thirst you're feeling is near-insatiable.

You head over to the bathroom and let a bath run, you can't wait, a bath full of delicious cold water. You admire yourself in the mirror for a bit while the water streams, you notice your eyes are bluer than normal, and you begin to wonder if they didn't used to be green..or was it brown?

After a few minutes, the bath is full, instead of drinking slowly, you plunge in without as much as breathing.

The next day, when your parents step into the bathroom, they find you, head-first in a full bath of water...suicide they say.

But they don't see the small hole in your abdomen.

Don't drink water at night.

OC, written just now in a hurry. Any suggestions?

>>745616
...what?

>>745630

what?

>>743793
sure, I'll give more drawings, but I don't feel like making new ones.

another one of my drawings

last one

>>745616

Too, many.
Paragraphs and, commas

Srsly

>>745505
This one was good. Short and to the point. You rule.

One night, the baby cried. She was slow getting up, trying to rouse herself out of a deep sleep and a dream where things with long fingers scratched at the windows. She took her time getting to the baby's room, figuring that it was another routine call for milk or a diaper change or something else she had done hundreds of times since the girl had come home.

And then the crying stopped. The silence seemed to reverberate with the end of the wail, and the scritch-scritch of branches against the nursery window. She sped up, hand steadying her against the wall, and leaned over the crib. The baby, perfect and unsmiling and bright-eyed peered up at her, breathing easily and blinking.

She knew in an instant. This was not her child. And she knew what to do with it. Picking up the baby, she walked downstairs, and started to light the fireplace.

>>745505
What's your point? :/

Every time I think of this story it still gives me the chills even after all these years. I remember that night very vividly...

This happened to me about sixteen years ago right after I had gotten my drivers license and got to use my dad's car by myself for the first time.

My girlfriend and I were excited to go to a dance at our high school that Saturday night - and I was more then a little nervous about driving the stick shift without Mom or Dad in the car with me as I had a habit of killing the engine when I tried to start it.

It was early October, but the air was still warm and the moon was yellow and in a sickle form. There were dark storm clouds looming over the Wasatch Mountains and moving closer into the Salt Lake valley.

My girlfriend and I went to the dance and had a great time - staying way into the night. When the dance was over and after everyone had been sent away by the dance/school staff we moved on. We drove around looking for some place to go - as the newness of being on our own with the car would not wear off for several more months.

I picked the old grade school that we had both gone to when we were children. We were fairly close to where we lived so we felt safe and there was nothing to worry about except the looming rain clouds. We parked in the parking lot behind the school and walked into the huge grass playing field and the play ground behind the school. The field was lit by one huge stadium type lamp that cast a circle of dim light on the playground and playing field surrounding it.

She and I sat on the swings talking WAY late into the night. It started raining a cool mist that was very pleasant. But after an hour or so it was enough rain to make the ground under us muddy - so we were careful not to stick our feet in the mud (this is important in a minute).

It became quite and we were both very tired by then. We suddenly looked up at the same moment... the hair stood up on the back of my neck... as we both felt the need to look back and over our left shoulders. Something had caught the corner of our eye. About two hundred feet or so away there was SOMETHING crawling on it's stomach out past the shadows edge of the light that the giant stadium bulb gave off.

We both stared in horror not saying anything. We watched as the thing MOVED towards us, just keeping on the boarder of the light shadow. It was humanoid looking - a dark color with no clothes on. It was laying flat on it's belly... it's arms down, held close to it's waist.

But what frightened me the most (besides the fact that it had been coming up behind us) was the way it moved and the structure of it's legs... It was inching forward moving NOTHING but it's feet to push it forward. And the legs... If you look at a normal humans knees - the knees bend forward... This things was reverse - the joint bent BACK and away. (Imagine laying flat on your stomach with your hands pulled in at your sides to your waist and your knees are UP OFF the ground instead of against it.)

We stared for several seconds... we both had stopped breathing and the only sound was the rain falling. The head of the thing looked up and I saw nothing but black pools where the eyes should be...
My girlfriend and I JUMPED off the swings onto the wet grass and lunged into the car about 50 feet away. There was several seconds of panic when I couldn't get the car to start - and I was terrified to look up. I didn't want to see "IT" closing on us - I didn't want to see those knees bending in the wrong direction and the black, soulless eyes. I was afraid I would pop the clutch in the car and not be able to start it again. I kept my head down and looking at the steering wheel. The car engine turned and caught - we tore off into the night.

I called my folks from my girlfriends house and told them about what had happened. They allowed me to stay there with her and her Mom until the sun came up in a few hours. We waited and passed the time by telling her Mother our story - which scared her (as well as my parents) badly.

When the sun came up early that Sunday morning - we drove back to see if "it" was still there. This time bringing weapons. But there was nothing as we searched the field. As we poked around the swings we had been sitting on earlier... there were large bare foot prints that had tracked through the mud ALL AROUND the very swings we were on. We both had - had our shoes ON and as I said before, we were careful NOT to get mud on them. And we HAD NOT walked around and around like these tracks had. We found nothing but those bare tracks.

Every once in a while I get brave enough to go back to that field late at night (never alone though). I sit by the school field side in my truck with the high beams on searching the area, but I've never seen "IT" again...

>>745911
>>745914
>>745916
>>745918
>>745920

Too long. One story, one post.

>>745911
>>745914
>>745916
>>745918
>>745920

Holy hell - I read this story way back in the dark ages of the Internet. I was just looking for it again the other day and couldn't find it ANYWHERE. Thank you, Anon. Thank you.

I was just hanging out in my kitchen, waiting for the food to get done in the microwave. Thats when I heard my dad calling me from the basement.

"Son, can you bring a flashlight? can't see a thing down here." So I went down, a flashlight switched on and in hand. Aiming it around, i'm wondering where he is.

"Over here, a little stuck." His voice sounds a little scratchy. As I round the corner, my phone goes off so I check it. the caller ID says 'Dad'. I get scared, wondering who the hell i'm in the basement with.

Looking up, my last thoughts were that nothing should have a mouth that big.

(sorry if i sucked. thinking these up on the spot)

I gripped the pistol uneasily in my hand. I had never used a firearm in my life, but I really had no choice at this point. I was being chased; I had been for days. I did not know those persuing me, only that they sought my immediate extermination. So I ran, and I would easily run across the world if only for a moment's peace. It was only yesterday that I came across the pistol; it was in a barnhouse that lay abandoned for years. I had no idea if it would even work, but I held onto the hope that it would save my life. I heard the sounds of the crowd again, and knew I must cut short my repose.

Running for my life again on the plains, I glanced back at the moonlit crowd. The full moon illuminated dozens of men and women armed with God knows what. I couldn't make out any of their weapons, save for the brilliant glint of silver from each and every one of them. I could not make out anything that suggested firearms of any kind.

Somehow outrunning the crowd, I came across another abandoned barn, with almost a mile between me and them. I stopped momentarily in the washroom; I would often wake up covered in blood for reasons that escape me. Looking at the mirror, I recoiled at the horrific beast that stared back at me. Dark, matted fur, eyes full of blood's crimson, a gaping maw full of horrendous sharpened fangs.


The pistol still worked. Only... I'm still alive.

The holy man took a deep breath and sighed, walking up the middle isle. It had been a long day. Some poor child had come in talking about the thing that was following her, asking his help to make it go away. She was tired of being scared, tired of its demented humor and sickening laughter.

As he looked up his eyes grew wide. Where was Jesus, if not upon the cross?. His eyes left it though, turning behind him as he heard something coming from behind. Whatever it was, that was not the lord. Jesus did not have fangs.

>>745307
ok, that scared me

Backward knee monster scared the utter crap out of me. Good work, Anon.

>>745455
does your last name star with a p and your middle name with a b

Your visit to Spain was mostly uneventful. The food was nice, the weather was nice, and the people were pleasant, for the most part.

As you're passing through a small town in the middle of nowhere, just stopping on your way to Madrid, you find yourself in a little curio shop. You find an amusing bauble and buy it. The owner of the shop eyes you carefully before selling it, and warning you:
"You should be careful around here. The pickpockets here are worlds above those you find anywhere else."

You thank the man for the warning and move your wallet to your front pocket.

Suddenly, you get a call from the hotel in which you are staying. Your wife has fallen ill, and was taken to the hospital. You rush to your car, bumping violently into a young man, whom you apologize to, before driving to the hospital.

>>746231

You arrive to learn that she has kidney failure. After a discussion and tests, you decide that you will give her one of yours. The doctor takes you to the operating room and puts you under.

When you come to, the doctor is very grave.

He says, "Your wife is fine, she's accepting the Kidney and will be alright, but you... It's a good thing you came to us. I've never seen anything like it before, it's a miracle you lived so long, without a liver."

>>745547

Nukes fall. Everybody dies. Everybody!

>>746231
>>746244
Wow.

>>745362
troll or troll'd?
i wish i knew.

>>745916
>>as we both felt the need to look back and over our left shoulders
>>back and over our left shoulders
back and to the left?

There must have been a second monster.

>>746244
I DONT GET IT/

>>746279

His liver was pickpocketed. My god, anon, that was fucking brilliant.


>>743799made me laugh. The first few from the same author all posses this great mindfuck quality. If those pastas were pictures, they'd be those fucking trees you stared at forever, and there was nothing there.

>>746244
I was not expecting that. It didn't really scare me, but I like it.

>>746279
I'm assuming the guy you bumped into on the street stole your liver.

>>746231
>>746244
Well thought out, but not that scary.

never done "creepy pasta" (most of it is crap, to be honest. i consider creepy pasta 1-3 short posts. ive written short stories and not-so-short stories before)

tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
the same dream id been having for 3 nights...4 nights? a week? who knew anymore. at least, part of it was the same, the middle of the dream. that weird tapping sound as the weird girl played her weird little board game. everything else changed, but there she was every dream.
tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
...

>>746414
tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
this was starting to get aggravating. what had it been? a month now? 5 weeks? every night, that little girl. her little board, with its black and white, moving those goddamned little pieces around the board!
tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
...

>>746418
tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
6 months! but oh, id get her this time. id figure her out THIS TIME! i had help this time. apparently, i couldnt do it alone. but oh! this time
tap-tap
tap-
"NOW!" i thought. i tried to scream, but in a dream, these things dont work so well.
but awake nonetheless i did! gail woke me, like id asked her to if she heard it. if i started to struggle in my dream, if i cried out.
tap-tap
tap-tap
tap-tap
it was still there! from above me! from my window...from behind the curtain.
like a...
fingernail on a windowpane...
like someone tapping...to be
let in?

as i opened the curtains i heard gail scream behind me. or, i heard her make noise behind me. but it receded, with the blackness. all things...
faded to the blackness

(sorry, i know its not great, but it was worth a shot!)

It sucked and if you're going to do a fucking story use punctuation god damn.

>>746436

I meant capitalization... shut up

archive this

There was a time we could leave our front doors unlocked, our windows open to the night air, and sleep in peace, knowing that there was nothing out there. But...no longer is that true. I heard of it happening in the central part of the U.S., where nobody really gives a shit, places without a name that you might need to take a dirt road to find. In the dead of night, when everything is silent, they'd become just that. Dead. Somebody, something, was sneaking into homes and murdering them in their sleep. Brutal murders. Limbs ripped from bodies, flesh found strewn across the walls...disgusting. I can't sleep anymore, I've heard the noises. You know? The rustling in the bushes? The tweet of a bird, out-of-place in the middle of the night? That isn't what you think it is. I know what it is. I saw it moving. I can't even begin to describe the horror I felt. Please. Please let me stay awake, just...just a little bit longer...

>>746437
oh no, not a lack of capitalization on an imageboard full of people who mostly cant speak english to save their own fucking lives.

because, as we all know, if the Illiad wasnt capitalized, the story would be completely ruined. if The Shining had some lowercase letter, it would be the worst book ever, and Shakespeare never would have amounted to anything without perfect capitilization when he wrote drafts of things on fucking 4chan.

shite.

>>746444

Fuck man. That's good.

>>746473
you know very little

>>746474

The quality of this thread has decayed exponentially from the original posters to the most recent ones. Well, at least we have plenty for repost.

I wish I could sleep. Big day tomorrow. I need to sleep. I've got work in nine hours. Why can't I sleep? Because I know when I sleep, if I sleep, the shape will be waiting. You've seen him in that realm between sleep and wake, standing at your window, watching you doze off slowly. And sometimes he reaches out with the tap-tap-tap on the glass. Or the window sill. Or maybe he stands at your bedside with that slow wide mouth grin and leans towards you. I know he's there. Waiting. Watching. I know he's got the rusty knife. And one night soon. I'll sleep, and I won't wake up. I should sleep. I want to sleep. But he's standing there, and I know he's watching.

>>746486
better without alluding to a knife, imo. thing using knives just cut you, stab you. things WITHOUT a weapon: who knows. ghosts are far scarier than gangsters because nobody knows what it could do.

Did we ever figure out who was phone?

>>746504

Keanu Reeves

>>746461
>oh no, not a lack of capitalization on an imageboard full of people who mostly cant speak english to save their own fucking lives.
>full of people who mostly cant speak english to save their own fucking lives.
>cant speak english to save their own fucking lives.
>cant speak english
delicious

ever been in Tenochtitlan, near Mexico city, well, I live like an hour away from there. Its where the pyramid of the sun and the moon are located. Ever wonder why theres so much mysticism about this place, well, lets just say, when you stand on top of the "sun", you can see more than just landscape.

>>746521
Sunscape. Amazing.

Jack was always a loner, never having any real friends, he kept to himself and he enjoyed it that way.
Jack lived in a small apartment four floors up, it was a dingy place and always smelled of death, Jack had not paid the electricity bill and it was pitch black during a rather stormy night, he reached for a candle and lit it up;
As soon as the fire hit the candle jack was holding he scr

>>746537
how did i not see that coming?

well done!

The house is empty except for the single occupant watching their monitor; you. A television is on nearby with some show playing that you could care less about. There was something in the basement you needed but only just remembered as a passing thought. Getting up, you open that squeaky wooden door with the lights from the floor above shining down the old, wooden stairs. Upon reaching the bottom step then the floor, something moves in the darkness ahead. Of course it would be impossible to see before, even if you had been looking for it. It blends in with the wall so perfectly. It's fifteen steps back up the stairs. You're in direct light, perfectly visible. It didn't move until you had set foot on basement ground. Where did it go now? You can hear it breathing. If it hasn't noticed you yet, do you risk running back up the stairs? It sounds so close. Would you make it even if you tried? The only other light is hanging ten paces into the darkness. You won't see it coming if you head in. Which way would you choose?

>>746544
First attempt at creepy pasta. Sorry if it sucked.

>>746537
as much as i hate to admit it, that was fucking hilarious.

>>746537

Well played, Anon, well played.

Well, my story starts one night, it was raining, and I was all alone at home. I live with my mom, father, and sister so it’s usually not quiet at all, but that night they had decided to go watch a movie. I was feeling a little sick, so I didn’t feel like going.
So then, I went down to the kitchen to make myself a nice sammich, and I heard a weird noise coming from upstairs. We have no pets, except a few fishes from some South American country, and those make no noise. So I get reasonably spooked, and walk slowly up the stairs… the sound repeated itself, only it was louder, and closer…
I walked up a few more steps, my fear growing with every single one. Cold sweat ran down my spine as I heard the noise again, closer, louder. By the time I got to the top of the staircase, I heard it again, and I could locate the sound coming from my bedroom. I froze, the sound was louder than ever before, although it probably was my fear magnifying it. I could start to identify what sound it exactly was, it sounded like gnawing, it reminded me of a small hamster I once had as a little girl, only far more vicious, if a sound can be vicious. Then it stopped. The silence was deafening. I mustered up the courage and I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say this cab is rare, but I thought ‘Now forget it’ - ‘Yo homes to Bel Air’. I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8, and I yelled to the cabbie ‘Yo homes smell ya later’.I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.

LOL good way to end the night ^

There's a diner in Independence, KY that has used the same menus for nearly 70 years. The menus have been updated to include a few new dishes and accommodate new prices, but on the last page remains a remnant of the original menu - the chicken stew.

Every attempt at removing the item or changing it's price (30 cents a bowl) has failed.

No one at the diner knows how to prepare the dish - which isn't necessary anyway. Anyone who attempts to order the dish inexplicably starts to faint midway through the sentence.

When awakened hours later, the victim feels no ill side effects - except he/she squawks like a chicken and coughs up a single white feather before resuming normal speech.

The feathers are unremarkable and the diner now keeps them if visitors don't want them - there's a wall literally covered in them and is truly a sight to behold.

There is a vending machine at an old, seldom maintained rest area along a stretch of interstate highway near Holland, Michigan. The vending machine hasn't been stocked in years due to the loss of its keys, it being completely stuck shut, and being bolted to the ground. Somehow it remains on after many years and contains a single old candy bar with an unrecognizable faded wrapper. Most people pass it by as I did on my visit.

But as I found out later, anyone visiting the rest stop who as born on February 29th on a leap year becomes maddeningly hungry and makes every attempt at claiming the candy bar - many taking their own lives in crazed attempts at breaking the machine open.

At least 18 known victims have tried - and yet the site remains open as it is the only working rest area for miles and the state is too underfunded to build a new one.

well, now it has turned into the exact thing OP didnt want it to. the sort of really stupid "if you do___ or go___, this will happen on this day to this person". bah!

should have just ended it on the candle....person note and the fresh prince.

I am telling this now because maybe if I do that then it'll go away. The last thing I've ever wanted to do is cause harm to another person (Hippocratic Oath, you see) but if it means one night of good, sound sleep then I'm sorry but I must tell you. I apologise in advance.

See, as an intern at the hospital in my town, I always get the short straw. No exceptions. Doesn't help that there's only about ten other interns here. So the short straw means long, 36 hour shifts, in which I was expected to either man the emergency room or stay up in the wards and make sure none of our terminals die in the middle of the night. As it was, I got assigned to the emrgency room that night, not that there were ever any emergencies here in our tiny backwater town anyway. So I went, changed into scrubs and after chatting up some of the nurses I got bored and went into the empty waiting lobby and watched TV. After maybe about 15 minutes, the TV went static. I got pissed off since there goes my entertainment, and I got up to see what I could do. I scanned for different channels, I hit its sides with my palm, I swore at it and after what felt like hours, I got a signal. I went back into my seat, and started watching. It was very weird. It started with some guy trying to set up the camera which I thought meant this was supposed to be one of them new reality shows. After a few minutes he seemed to have figured things out. He sat down in front of the camera, and said this (don't question me, I have this down verbatim, I couldn't forget what he said, believe me):

>>746676
Baw ha ha, that always unspooks you.

>>746712
"Hello out there. I hope nobody's watching this, but the way my life's going, some poor guy probably is. If you're watching this, I'm terribly sorry. I'll begin by saying that she knows you're watching this. Who, I can't say. I don't know what her name is, or what she wants, but I know this: she's searching for someone. I don't know who, but I know she won't stop until she does. She wanders around by...(gulp)...fixing...herself to one person, and...well, maybe you'll find out what she does to that person. I...I...Ever since that night, when I went to help that drunkard out of the street, I've been hearing...noises, sounds like knives being sharpened, a soft voice chanting, and even sometimes I see things but I'm never really sure. I think I saw her once, but...(wipes face) like I've said, I'm not sure. But worse are the dreams. She is always there. Just when I'm about to fall asleep, I'll feel a tightness in my chest, like somebody is sitting on it, and when I fall asleep I'll dream that I'm lying on my bed, just like I was before I went to sleep, but I can see her, she...(sobs, continues to speak while sobbing)...she's there, sitting on my chest, and then she...God I'm sorry, I can't. I can't go on, it's just too horrible. She just wants to find him. And...I have no choice but to help her. (takes deep breath, and speaks calmly). If you are watching this, then she may fix herself to you. If that happens, and you are the one she is looking for, then good riddance, you son of a bitch. You deserve her. But if you're not, then...I'm sorry."

>>746715

Should all be changed to "reading", not "watching".

>>746715
The TV then goes static again, and I just sit there, stunned, thinking, 'Jesus, was that a live broadcast? Who the fuck was that?' By now I've gotten this sudden feeling that I wasn't alone in the lobby. I took a deep breath, braced for whatever the hell may be there, turned around, and...nothing. Nothing whatsoever. I felt a bit creeped out by that dude's broadcast, and switched the TV off and decided to go home and sleep it off. I told the nurses I was going to play hooky just this once, and got as fast as I could back home, all the time thinking there's somebody following me. 'Stop that, you little sissy,' I told myself, 'You're just freaked out, is all. Just go home and sleep it off'. I did, and like in the movies, that's where it all starts.

I started hearing things even before I went to sleep. I took a shower first, and while I was in there, I could have sworn I heard somebody sneaking around my house. I heard soft bumps, what may have been footsteps, and even once - where I jumped out of the bathroom butt naked - a drawer open. But nothing had changed, so I went back in the bathroom, only to hear the faint sound of a drawer close, as if whoever opened it was trying not to make a sound. I thought this was the last straw, and dried off and went to bed.

I think you can guess how my night went. I'll spare you the horrible details. All you need to know at this point is that I finally know 'her', the vague 'she' the scared dude in the broadcast was referring to. Because I can't focus at work, she's cost me my job, then my life, as she almost literally tears down the walls between waking and sleeping, and now, almost cost me my sanity. To get rid of her, all she wants is for me to tell someone else that she is here, and I'm off the hook. And, if you hadn't noticed, I just did.

I hope you sleep well, unknown person at the other side of the Internet. Really, I do, but if you don't, well...better you than me.

>>746726
Oh wow, a reply. First attempt at copypasta, but yeah, the guy's on TV, so that's why it's 'watching'.

Maybe I should've done it as a note, or something...

>>746544

Why would I WANT to go into the darkness that the monster is hiding in?

>>746730
yeah, a note would work better with the ending, with 'her' fixing on someone through text.
still, well, played, i liked it

hey guys, Ive been working on something for the past little while. is this strictly copypasta, or would you guys mind if you posted something that really happened to me?

>>746749
I say go for it. Who knows? Maybe someone will form it into creepypasta?

go!

Here Goes!

My friend used to live out on this farmhouse like, 10 miles north of town. She was surrounded by woods from all sides, There were a few old silos and barns on her property, but were virtually abandoned, because not very many people could afford to make a living doing any sort of farmwork in the area these days. The one barn closes to her her house, was now only home to her dad's riding lawn mower, a few stray barn cats she looked after, and a small chicken roost.

It was late summer, getting to be much cooler at night than we were used to. i remember it was really rainy that August, uncommon where we live. Her parents had gone away on vacation, and i was there keeping her company for the weekend. The visit was lazy, sunning in the grass, talking about school, watching movies. In the evening of Aug 20th, we were on the couch in the living room, watching tv. She picked up the remote and turned down the volume. She turned to me: "Can you hear that?"

I listened.

"No. what?"

"It's something. like, whiny. like a dog wimpering"

I heard it. very quietly. She got up and walked to the back porch. Her dog, Maggie was there, and when we approached her, she just looked at us quizzically.

"Shit. One of the cats is pregnant. When they're going to deliver, they look for a safe, dry spot, sometimes they find a way to squeeze in through the basement windows."

We travelled down to the basement with our flashlights, climbing over old musty cardboard boxes of christmas decorations and old clothing.

"Shh, maybe if we're quiet, we can hear the kittens and figure out where they and the mother are. The pipes and vents in this house are ancient, sound carries through, hard to tell where noise was coming from"

We could still hear the wimpering, just a high pitched mewing, I dont remember then, if it sounded like kittens to me or not. I had never heard a litter of newborns before. The sound didn't seem any louder in the basement. We went back up to check the main floor, mud room , launrdy room, to see if the mother had snuck in the doggie door and crept past us to some other part of the house.

We checked the upper floors, the sound was louder. When pausing to hear it, the sound was pitiful now, and sounded a bit pained. Worried and tense that an injured animal might have gotten into the house, we cautiously and systematically checked the upper floor. The hallway is where the sound intensified. We pulled the ladder down from the attic's crawlspace and slowly mounted the stairs. The sound was much, much more audible now, and impossible to confuse with the mewing of kittens. I clutched my friend's arm.

"Oh god. what...?"

"It...it could be something hurt. There was a ...a hunting camp close to here a few years ago. Last summer.....a Fox got caught in a trap, and it nearly severed it's entire leg. My dad had to go out with an axe and put it out of it's misery....it sounded horrible."

"Like this?"

"No. Not...not as bad as this."

Fearing a rabid, fearful animal might attack us, we backed down the attic stairs to decide what do to next. Once in the living room, we pressed together. The sound seemed even louder. My heart was thundering in my chest, and my friend's face was pale and drawn.

"I think maybe we...."

A sharp howl peirced the air and my body froze. Shaking, we turned to the kitchen. There was Maggie, curled up against the kitchen cabinets. The noise of her wimpering was small and tiny over the growing monsterous noise. Maggie's nose and paws looked bloody, and she was gnawing at her front leggs. She looked up at us, visibly trembling.

"Oh, Maggie..I..." My friend reached out for her dog. In an instant, Maggie had latched on to her hand. Shaking it wildly, my friend ripped it viciously back from the dog's mouth. We stood in shock, my friend clutching her wounded hand as we backed off from Maggie, who had shuffled backwards, her rigid body flush to the corner under the stove.


We needed help. Neither of us had cars, so we called her closest neighbour. The answering machine picked up after 10 rings. She hung up and picked up again, calling her friend Tom, who lived a little further down the road. He had a truck, and said he could be there in 15 minutes. Those 15 minutes crept, and felt like hours. the noise, which we were now certain we coming from backyard-was terrible. a gutteral, groaning, then a terrible screaming. a mounful howling, and then a painful screeching. Over and Over.

When we saw Tom pulling in the driveway, we rushed out the front door. He jumped out of the truck, and we slowed as we approached him. We all listened. He looked at us, and we looked back..


"That sound..." he said.

"It's coming from all around us."

In the woods, from every direction. no matter where you faced. We piled into the truck and he drove us into town. The sound only stoped 2 miles from the city limits. My friend ended up staying at my house for two nights, terrified to go home. The day her parents came home, her, I and Tom drove up to her place. No sound. nothing. We waited for her parents in the driveway. When they pulled up, we told them everything. They listened, looked worried, even though it was hard to believe. Her dad said he would check the property for any dead animals in caught in traps.

When we went inside. we found Maggie. She was lifeless, still curled against the kitchen cabinets. Her mouth was open, and there was dried blood on her teeth and in her mouth, smears of blood on the floor under her paws, and her front and back paws were gnawed and chewed. Her bowls were still filled with kibble and water.

My friend's dad found a dead coyote in a trap a few metres into the woods, but from the rate of decomposition, it must have been dead for months. My friend got a new puppy, and all three of us very rarely, if ever, talk about what happened that night.

>>746763
>>746762
>>746760
>>746758
nice, so this is sum real happnins?

I feel the urge to post some creepy dreams but daylight is close and I fear the creep factor will be lost. Perhaps later.

>>746772


Yeah, for real. happened the summer i was 16. i used some arty language, but that's how it happened.

The official family consensous was that maggie died of old age.

>>746780
She was fucking covered in blood and had a wounded leg. I'm sure she bled to death

>>746781

Her dad blocked off the kitchen so i only saw the body for a second, i was with my friend, who was crying and just hystarical. But honestly. she looked bloody and chewed, but not......enough bloody. Like, not enough for me to believe she bled out.

In a cemetery just on the border of Cassadaga and Saint Helen is a grave. Next to this grave is a bench, known as the Devil's Chair. There are a few legends associated with this evil armchair. The most popular story regarding the Devil's Chair is that if one sits in it at midnight, the Devil will appear. You can have a conversation with him whilst seated amongst the graves.

>>746734

On the other hand, it works better if the reader isn't the victim, because what? This creepy girl is going to duplicate herself hundreds of times over to everyone who reads the text?

Sounds like a whore to me =/

>>746798
dood, she sits on you while you sleep, she IS a whore. If it's not thru text, then how does she choose her victim??

>>746804
Have you even read the whole story? It's via the act of being told through the video.

>>746805
I did, but if that's so, then how does doc get rid of her?

>>746805
Okay...I posted those
>>746712
>>746715
>>746729
Just to be clear, I made her attach herself to a host who has heard of her current victim's plight. Video, text, verbal storytelling...anything. The reason the two victims in that pasta told their stories the way they did (tv broadcast, internet message board post) is so that they won't pick and choose who they sick her on to.

And no, she doesn't duplicate. That would be dumb.

>>746816
so, she chooses based on looks? wallet (her sticking to a doctor seems to support this)? if that's the case, everyone on 4chan's safe

>>746537
>>746642
Anticlimaxes like this are worse than screamers.

>>746816
Then how does she choose someone from the interweb?

>>746819
i lol'd

Next to this grave is a bench, known as the Devil's Chair. There are a few legends associated with this evil armchair

is it a bench or an armchair?

>>746823
it's an armbench

>>746819
>>746822
Well why don't you ask HER?
Seriously, I don't know. I may change it and repost it so that it's a written note, so that the new rules are: if you're the first to read this note, she will haunt you until you write a new note.
For now, let's just go with 'random selection of a predefined set of people who hear this story'.

>>746834
lol you opened a can o' worms there
>>746819
>>746814
>>746804
>>746734
this is me, btw

>>746834
I'll ask her when she's sitting on my dick.
Sorry, I meant chest.

Think about this:
Have you ever considered the possibility that the whole internet could be under constant surveillance? Every post being checked for content someone doesn't want you to read?
You should understand that in such a scenario, all you would ever find on the net would be what the censors allow you to read. Realizing this, you should also understand that there could be people trying to bring certain well-kept secrets out into the world, but not getting through to you. Everything that comes too close to the truth would be deleted on sight; you'd have to manoeuvre around the censors and carefully hide your actual message in some more mundane post in order for it to be let through, and then nobody would probably find it.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.
Elaborate conspiracies like this are speculated all the time. Rarely are they based on fact. Either way, it would be most reasonable to just continue your life as if you know this is not true.

Surely it's conceivable, but so are Russell's Teapot and the Flying Spaghetti monster. And even *if* the internet would be scrutinized all the time, it would undoubtedly be just by human agencies. Voicing your opinion on subjects the politicians don't want to hear about has never been a completely secure right, so it would probably be their doing. Everyone knows we're the only intelligent species around here, capable of such things, anyway.

You might as well forget what I said. Of course there's no such thing.
Ubiquitous internet guardians from another world? Ridiculous. Stupid fiction from a nerd who read too much creepypasta.
Even if there were people trying to tell us about something with hidden messages in their posts, nobody would notice it unless it's something really obvious that the censors would notice immediately. Like, hiding it in the first letters of every sentence.
Forget I said anything.

>>746898
At first I was like, this is corny. And then I read the ending and I was like, "This is genius".

Shat bri/x/.

>>746898
nice

>>746898
That sucked.

This thread, sadly, is proof of why creepypasta needs to be creepypasta.
Original stuff sucks. The few good ones on here are actually reposts.

>>746914
don't you have some exorcism warmups to do?

>>746914
1/10

tripfags always think they know it all, gtfo

>>746898
Damn you, that sent chills down my spine.

>>746930
>>746921
>>746919
>>746908
>>746898

Samefag

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the End". Should a look of child-like fear come over the workers face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to themselves echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.

Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, and sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you've escaped.

If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. "What happens when they all come together?"

The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, and a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.

Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.

That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never.

>>746933
See>>743793
>No Holders.

>>746931
Wrong.
I'm>>746898. I don't know who posted the other ones, and how many different persons they were, but it wasn't me.

>>746898
Fuck, that was damn good

>>746933
facepalm.jpg

>>746914
He's right, you know, I mean this>>746933
is OBVIOUSLY superior to this>>746898mostly because with>>746933iron man doesn't have to actually THINK, so he won't have to realize he's not only a faggot, but a dickcheese too

>>746933
the Burger King one is better anyways

>>746944
Sageing a thread beyond autosage limit.

>>746946
Actually you don't have to think with either of them.

I mean that dumbass's creepypasta was basically

"OMG THEYRE READING THIS. IVE HIDDEN A CODE. THE CODE IS BASICALLY WHAT IM SUGGESTING ANYWAY"

Why would someone need to tell you to save yourself in code if outside of code they're obviously warning you anyway?

It's moronic as fuck.

>>746951
Actually, outside the code I'm vigorously denying the existence of this censorship, arguing why it would be moronic to believe such a thing.

>>746951
it's original, thought out, and not the same complete shit we've seen over and over and over and over ad nauseum. If YOU don't like it, the Shut the fuck up and don't try to throw your e-peen tripfagness around like it matters a shit in the least.

>>746954
he is IRON MAN, man! he will blast you away with his tripcode powered cannons

>>746952
It an extremely obvious way.
It's like going

Don't worry, you're not on fire. Those flames? Yeah it's just. Weather balloons. Yeah. Totally. And that heat? It's global warming, that stuff Al Gore talks about.


Oh and PS, you're on fire. Put it out.

So, why ARE all tripfags self important assholes?

>>746957
Do better then, tripfag

>>746959
I posted 320 creepypastas in one thread awhile back. I think I'm allowed to take a break from them.

Though to be fair, I've only written two in the time I've been here on /x/. And someone here reposted one of them. The one about the blouse button.

>>746957
lolwut

>>746962
so, now we know, your e-peen is 320 creepypastas long, good for you

>>746962
and WOW, it was actually shittier then the one you ragged on!

nigger

>>746898
sad thing is, this one is actually a repost

>>746898
Whatever, I actually really enjoyed this one. Just throwing a voice of support out here. I'm going to try writing one in a minute now.

>>745433
>>745434
>>745438
>>745442

Nice job! Although I've gotta say, Jesus being depicted like that creeps me the fuck out :<

bump for possibly more good original creepypasta

>>746958
Because all self-important assholes become tripfags.

>>746981
More or less. I (the author) posted this only once before, in an original content thread that died soon after I posted it. That was a few days ago, on this board.

>>747109
me too, also, Iron man is a faggy dickmonger, i posted over 9000 creepypastas just 5 minutes ago

All Facility Incident Reports Containing Phrase "Patient #4342"-
14 RECORDS FOUND. LISTED CHRONOLOGICALLY.

Admission for Patient #4342, 10:00 6/12. Patient was involuntarily admitted by family after period of self-destructive isolation. Physical condition would appear to be healthy, except for acute physical exhaustion and possible malnutrition from duration of "shut-in" episode. Patient immediately requested detention in isolation ward. Upon being informed that this was impossible due to the necessities of social reconditioning for psychological recovery, patient became irate and struggled with restraints. Sedatives administered, admitted to general population room 27 with Patient #703.
DIAGNOSIS UPON ADMISSION: PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIA

General Notice Regarding Patient #4342, 15:30 6/12. Patient will attempt contact with facility employees in seeking access to isolation ward. This may include misdirection regarding diagnosis or other directives from other facility employees, and seems to be an escalating behavior cycle. Where possible, minimize contact with patient. Recommend daily sedative regimen.

>>747713
Discipline Notice Regarding Room 27, 20:00 6/12. Patient #4342 refused to abide by facility "lights out" policies. Given reasons for refusal apparently tied to delusional episodes leading to admittance. Refusal to sleep likely tied to diagnosis of exhaustion made upon admittance. Patient became violent when room lights were doused over objections, required restraint and additional medication to induce unconsciousness.

General Notice Regarding Patient #4342, 20:00 6/12. Recommend daily anti-psychotic.

Discipline Notice Regarding Room 27, 04:00 6/13. Patient #4342 heard screaming by facility cleaning employee, who entered and thereafter immediately summoned assistance. Body found in room identified as Patient #703, pronounced DOA by medical staff. Patient #4342 found free from restraints and incoherent - scratches on face and body appear self-inflicted.

>>747716
General Notice Regarding Patient #4342, 04:00 6/13. Recommend full-body restraint in future, transfer to isolation ward room I-5. Further recommend temporary increase of sedative dosage - if liver tests allow, maintain increased dosage. Additionally, shift patient through anti-psychotic ranges to find effective medication.

Medical Log for Patient #703, 9:00 6/13. Patient found deceased in room by facility staff, pronounced upon arrival of medical department. COD massive blood loss associated with soft tissue damage to facial structures. Eyes missing - recommend search of room 27, patient #4342. Conclusion: patient died from injuries sustained in assault by patient #4342.

Medical Log for Patient #4342, 9:30 6/13. Patient treated for self-inflicted wounds, given liver function test, stomach contents examined for unusual items in search for remains of patient #703. Nothing found in content check, liver function okay for increased sedative dosages.

>>747719
General Notice Regarding Patient #4342, 12:00 6/13. Sedatives appear to have had desired effect; patient demeanor is far calmer, and patient expresses remorse over events in room 27. Slight disassociative behavior - apparent projection of actions onto fictional other. Patient requests that monitoring equipment for room I-5 be deactivated. Reasoning apparently tied to delusional episodes. Request denied.

Discipline Notice Regarding Room I-5, 14:00 6/13. Patient #4342 found attempting to forcefully dismantle monitoring equipment. Became very irate when actions prevented, required additional sedation. Delusions appear to tie equipment to event in room 27. Camera housing repaired by maintenance department.

Discipline Notice Regarding Room I-5, 20:00 6/13. Patient #4342 physically threatened facility employee for refusal to leave room lights on. Full body restraints prevented any problems, but regardless bed restraints are recommended for patient on future night dosage rounds.

>>747723
Discipline Notice Regarding Room I-5, 22:00 6/13. Complaints from patients in neighboring rooms that occupant of I-5 will not stop screaming. Patient #4342 found with bleeding wounds across face and body despite full restraint. May be psychosomatic in nature. Topical treatments applied, sedatives administered to induce unconsciousness.

Medical Log for Patient #4342, 9:00 6/14. Patient found deceased in isolation room by facility staff, pronounced upon arrival of medical department. COD grievous head injuries. Head missing from body and room. Review of monitoring equipment recommended to locate source of injuries. Conclusion: UNKNOWN.

Admission for Patient #4345, 11:00 6/14. Former member of security staff at facility, found setting a fire in security office after reviewing monitoring records for patient #4342. Extreme agitation and delusional statements recorded. Claims to be targeted by some "other." Refuses to describe nature of assailant. Self-inflicted scratches evident on face. Had to be restrained and sedated after violently attacking anyone who tried to extinguish the fire. Suicidal tendencies.
DIAGNOSIS UPON ADMISSION: PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIA

When I'm brushing my hair or making sure my tie is straight I never look my mirror self in the eye. When I do something inside me knows that whatever is staring back at me isn't natural, and I hope that it isn't me.

>>747806
funny, your reflection thinks the same

>>747727
>>747723
>>747719
>>747716
>>747713
wait... it's over???
wtf

>>747713
>>747716
>>747719
>>747723
>>747727

I really like this.

bump for more. add this thread to the archives, some good stuff in here

>>746071

My first try at creepypasta. Is it failpasta?