Talk:Creepypasta
From Encyclopedia Dramatica
Survival Guide
Creepypasta Survival Guide (applies to perfectly normal situations too)
1. Mirrors and darkness don't mix.
2. Seriously mirrors and darkness are a "NO".
3. There is zero chance of survival if you look the thing that no one else can see.
4. If you are alone at night in a creepy Gothic mental institution,take some time to reconsider what the fuck are you doing there.
5. Avoid going to places where everyone else who went there never came back.
6. If someone stops your vehicle at night and asks to join in,it would be in your best interest not to let him in.
7. Killing is the last method of survival. Even if you really “are the demons, Joe”.
8. WHO WAS PHONE is always a good thing to ponder. Also who the hell answers a phone while kissing a dead persons sexy daughter. Or any daughter for that matter.
9. Get a simple .38 revolver. Load it with 2 AP , 2 FMJ , and 2 silver bullets.
10. If you really feel there is no chance to come alive out of a situation empty said gun at main threat.
11. Area 51 is simply too well guarded to let you get in. Or let any alien to get out.
12. When going to a hotel don't peek on other people's rooms. If you couldn't resist but you saw a red thing, take some time to consider the quality and place of your next hotel-of choice.
13. As a side-note any hotel named Hotel California can be hazardous.
14. Invoking demons, speaking weird languages and performing rituals of any kind is considered dangerous. Refrain from doing that, especially around Police Stations, Churches, Psychiatric Institutions and your house in front of a mirror at night.
15. When going to a new area, environmental understanding is a key to survival. Ask around for cursed places , legends , dangers and other details. And listen to the local peoples' advice.
16. Always have a Bible next to your bed. Provides average reading material , proof of beliefs and a really heavy object to throw at enemies.
17. Don't count on Holy Water. Get a sturdy vial of Sulfuric Acid and let a priest Consecrate it.
18. Japanese priests cleanse rooms by waving katana swords around. Their ritual is 100% effective.
19. If you find 666 messages on your phone , mailbox ,email, etc consider changing the said service provider. Also don't bother listening /reading the messages. It's spam. Extra dimensional or advertising but spam nevertheless.
20. Old pharmaceutical companies cant help you. Unless you specifically need “Blood Of The Innocent”, ”Snake Oil”, and “Radioactive Syrup”. Which is never.
21. Lighthouses are dangerous. Avoid them at all costs.If you work at a Lighthouse consider a career in Insurance Sales.
22. There is simply no reason to listen to music that causes suicidal tendencies.
23. If you like to plan ahead and have some money , buy your auntie and uncle a house in Bel-Air. Nothing can harm you there no matter how scared is your mother.
24. Secret secluded untouched places in old buildings are left untouched for a reason. Pioneers never say “die” but they have a high mortality rate.
25. Before you start swimming in the ice-cold waters of a murky lake at the center of a dark forest at midnight, ask yourself, do you really want to travel to an ancient and terrifying city? If the answer is "no," then stay at home instead, watching skin flicks on Cinemax.
26. On your 33rd birthday try celebrating in your well lit house with the company of others.
27. Refrain from using the One True Name for anything.
28. Read on sleep paralysis.
29. Watching TV static for long periods may be hazardous to your health.
30. Get a cat. A cat is fine too. Those furry little hairballs seem to perceive unnatural phenomena better than us.
31. Cemeteries are bad.
32. Try not to close your eyes.
33. If you hear chanting, run until you are certain it is gone.
34. If it exists, there is porn of it.
35. Avoid saying the name AndlejackCay(which is PigLatin for CandleJack, if you wanted to kn
Creepypasta that didn't make the cut
Some of these are ripped off of novels etc, some are meant as jokes or parodies, and some are just mediocre and not scary. I've moved them here for the curious. --Spacey 22:57, 3 October 2007 (CDT)
Toolbox
You wake up one morning to find a note taped to your mirror: "Don't worry, I took care of everything." Your clothes have been freshly laundered, the bathroom is spotless, and your garage has been organized. Even your faithful old toolbox has been replaced.
Later that week, there's another note on your mirror: "GET OUT OF TOWN." Paper-clipped to this message are several grainy photos of police in a taped-off section of a field. One of them is carrying your old toolbox in his latex-gloved hand.
The Empty Vial
You come into possession of an old box. Inside are several glass vials filled with dirt, dust and tiny bits of gravel or cement. The vials are labeled with places and dates such as "Port Chicago 7/17/44", "Halifax 12/6/17" and "Guernica 4/26/37". A trip to the library confirms that all are dates of massive loss of life in explosions. A few days later a package arrives with no return address.
Inside is an empty vial labeled with your home town and next week's date.
The Most Important News
Who discovered the existence of the dead? Everyone knows the name of Antonia Simone, but the exact circumstances of her discovery are wildly varied. In 1992, her younger brother Ricardo, was injured in a martial arts accident that left him completely paralyzed. He needed a respirator to live and could only communicate through eyeblinks. She was a computer scientist at the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center and decided to create a computer terminal sensitive to the slightest energy source. She was a student of Kirlian photography and strongly believed the body’s electromagnetic fields could affect sensitive electronic equipment. She created a terminal that could not be affected by traditional means - no keyboard, mouse or other input devices. A veritable black box.
Ms. Simone was devoted to her brother and tried for years to make a computer terminal that would allow her brother to communicate naturally. Distraught over the failure of her terminal, which she thought would free thousands of similarly afflicted people, she killed herself by hanging. When paramedics found her body days later, there on a computer screen was the message: “What took you guys so long? I’ve got the most important news.”
Immortality
Life cannot exist without death, and death cannot exist without life. Everything will at some point in time fade away from this world because it is essentially "living" and therefore, essentially "dies". But what about immortality? Where does that stand? Many a time this has been sought after, but there is only one true method of obtaining it. Those who believe that they will cease to exist after death will do so, but those who believe in an everlasting spirit are eligible to participate.
These steps must be completed at midnight on your birthday (i.e. one minute after 11:59 PM on your birthday). First, set up a coffin in place of your bed. Make sure that the lid remains open and that once it is closed, IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO OPEN. All that remains now is to wait until midnight. Make sure that you are alone and that all lights are off. At midnight, get into the coffin and close the lid, locking yourself inside. Then utter the following incantation: "Blackest Death and Darkest Night, take my breath, and take my Life." The spirits of Death and Night will appear and judge your intentions. Make sure that you are asking for immortality and not the opposite. If your true wish is eternal life, it will be granted to you, and the coffin will open. But if the spirits interpret them as a death wish, they will respond by leaving.
Spoons
If you've ever picked up a shiny spoon - any curved object would do - before, you'd see a strange phenomenon occur. It's your reflection...upside down.
Science tries to explain that this is possible because the curve of the spoon is reflecting light upside down.
It isn't.
This is instead a reflection of you, when you're dead. The spirit inhabiting the object is disguising itself though, so you'd think it is just your reflection. The after life is said to exist in the 11th dimension, time exists in the 4th. So this means the after life exists outside of time - explaining how it can travel back in time, to a period when you aren't dead.
If you would want to see what you actually look like when you die, then follow these instructions. Make sure all the lights are on, as to make a shine on the object. Next, in a low pitched voice, chant the following, “Glimmer of light, guide me through these deceptions, and show my true self.” Then slowly turn the spoon, to make the shine pass through you reflection, and when it passes to the other side, you'll see your dead self.
However, this procedure is not sure to always go as stated above. In some instances, this picture is not of the person's death, but is actually a depiction of his after life's dead body. If this were to happen to you, when you die, you will not enter the 11th dimension like the rest of your friends and family, you simply leave this dimension, and cease to exist.
Lucid Dreamer
Dreams are just your mind dealing with the day's events, right? Nothing paranormal about that; everyone does it. I mean, there are places you visit often in your dreams. A certain house, a shop, a school...but these places are just figments of your imagination, right?
Have you ever wondered about these places and the people within them?
I know you're out there, "lucid dreamers". You're the ones who can control what happens when they dream. You are just beyond that film, that membrane that separates us.
Lucid Dreamer, have you ever wondered what that beautiful woman in your dream felt when you suddenly decided you wanted to fuck her? Oh, she seemed willing enough, didn't she?
Have you ever considered that you raped that woman, Lucid Dreamer? That she had no choice but to do everything you willed her to do while her mind watched on in horror?
Remember, Lucid Dreamer, all those awful things you have done in your dreams... And consider what those who call dreams their home must think of you. What they wish to do to you in kind.
I'm waiting, Lucid Dreamer, for those nights when your exhaustion keeps you from your power.
Oh, the things I will do to you then. Sweet dreams.
Sever the Cord
Many have speculated that the plane in which we live is not the only plane in existence. Those who say this will usually then go on to ponder realms of mystery and wonder. The truth is, there is a second plane, but it is not filled with the euphoric images that most people conjure up. However, it is not filled with horrors, either, rather, it is a perfect emulation of our world. There is no difference at all. Whatever exists in our plane also exists on the Second Plane. Even you exist on the Second Plane. In fact, those "copies" of ourselves, those extra-dimensional clones, are bonded to us. Whatever action we take, they take, and vice versa. That means that, in the other plane, that other you is reading this right now.
In this Second Plane, there is only one difference. A God resides there, though some may call him a Devil, watching over the mirrors of those in Our Realm. This God has no mirror. He resides only in the Second Plane. Our "Copies" cannot see him, either, for unknown reasons. But he can see them. He knows what they are doing. Therefore, he knows what YOU are doing. There is only one way to escape this constant watching, but it could come at a terrible price.
Stand before a mirror. You see your reflection? That is your Copy. Look him straight in the eye, and will with all of your might that what you see before you is not YOU; rather, it is a perfect emulation of you. As soon as you have made this mental breakthrough, turn off the lights. Wait a while, about two minutes should do. Then, turn them back on. Your reflection will be gone. You have just severed the bond between you and your Copy. You can no longer see him, but he exists. Now, however, you will be free to do as you please, without your Copy mirroring it, and without the God knowing what you are doing. You could murder a thousand people, and walk without fear of retribution.
However, it is not recommended that you do this. As you sever the bond, the same decay that effected the bond will eat slowly up the remnants of one side of the "cord". As it reaches whichever you was on that particular side, it will begin to eat away at its soul. Whichever version of you is effected will become sicklier, paler. It will stink of death, its movements will become stiff. As it nears the final stages of this illness, it will become merely a shadow of itself.
It becomes a ghost. Cursed to forever roam whatever existence it resides in, a shattered soul and lost cause. However, if it is not you that is affected by this illness, but your Copy, you will walk free. You will walk without judgment. You will be a God among men.
But be careful, for if that disease eats up your side of the cord, you will fall prey to its effects.
Trust me. I know.
Kola
The Bay of Kola, off Murmansk, is a graveyard for old Soviet submarines, which spill nuclear waste out into the Barents Sea. Many a Western explorer has braved the subzero temperatures and biting tainted winds, but few have lived to tell the tale. The locals of Murmansk say that sometimes, when the wind is high and is dashing the grease-iced waves on the choppy waters of the bay, one can hear the voices of those who died as a result of boarding those submarines. The only problem is that only the strongest to go have ever survived, and each one of those surviving visitors to Kola dies within ten weeks of telling their story to the barman at Rokossovsky's in Murmansk.
Hidden Frames
The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse moldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. If you were to put the frames together, in chronological order of the release of the film it comes from, a short film is revealed. The film depicts the corpse's violent death in reverse. The final frame will be a picture of yourself, sitting before your TV, viewing the final frame of the film.
Barking
We've all heard it. The incessant barking from your one of your neighbors dog. Late in the night, the barking will wake you, and you will scream at the dog out of the window. One night, you hear the dog barking more than normal, but you will ignore it. The dog barks again, louder and faster than before, and you ignore it. The final time, the dog is barking loud enough to practically shake your ears. You go out and throw a brick at the dog in the back yard, which silences the dog for good. Proud of yourself, you fall back asleep. Deep in your dream, all you see are dogs barking. Through an infinite void, just dogs.
The next morning, The Police find a number of footprints coming from the dog house, a bloody corpse hanging from the back door, and one dog with a brick lodged in it's skull.
Bloody Cup
He was in his room, with the lights turned out. Having long since in bed, the glow of the laptop was the only dim light in the darkened room. The concentrated bright glow in front of him dulled everything else in the room, essentially enveloping him in a cloak of absolute black. There were several windows up, with more than three tabs up on each of them – he was doing a lot of surfing on the net tonight. Not that it mattered, since this was the beginning of his weekend. He could stay up all night if he wanted to, and not have to worry about anything. Reaching across to where he'd put his drink, a brief glimpse of bright green caught his eye. Momentarily startled by it, he shook it off a second later when he thought of the battery pack for his laptop. He took a drink from his glass, his fingers nearly slipping off of the slick surface. Putting the glass back down on, he reaches to adjust his headphones and goes back to what he had been doing, turning the volume up as he does so. Just as he does this, his laptop shuts off completely, and he is left alone in the dark. As he reaches down to the battery pack, his headphones slip...and that is when he remember he didn't plug the battery pack in like he usually did. His headphones slide further from his ears, and a faint slithering hiss, as something takes hold of his arm.
The next day, his roommate finds his laptop on the floor next to his bed...and a cup, covered in what appears to be blood.
Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv
There is a video on YouTube named Mereana mordegard glesgorv. If you search this, you will find nothing. The few times you find something, all you will see is a 20 second video of a man staring intently at you, expressionless, then grinning for the last 2 seconds. The background is undefined. This is only part of the actual video.
The full video lasts 2 minutes, and was removed by YouTube after 153 people who viewed the video gouged out their eyes and mailed them to YouTube's main office in San Bruno. Said people had also committed suicide in various ways. It is not yet known how they managed to mail their eyes after gouging them out. And the cryptic inscription they carve on their forearms has not yet been deciphered.
YouTube will periodically put up the first 20 seconds of the video to quell suspicions, so that people will not go look for the real thing and upload it. The video itself was only viewed by one YouTube staff member, who started screaming after 45 seconds. This man is under constant sedatives and is apparently unable to recall what he saw. The other people who were in the same room as him while he viewed it and turned off the video for him say that all they could hear was a high pitched drilling sound. None of them dared look at the screen.
The person who uploaded the video was never found, the IP address being non-existent. And the man on the video has never been identified.
Here is the full video, all 4 minutes, salvaged from the depths of YouTube.
HAHAHA DISREGARD THAT, it's just an extended version of the 20 second video, no drilling or torture or whatever I SUCK COCKS.
The Boy Who Loved To Read
Once, there was a boy who loved to read. He read everything he could get his hands on, and loved going to his favorite book store. One day, the boy realized he had read everything the store had to offer. He confronted the owner, and asked him if he had anything the boy had never checked out. The owner said "Why, yes, I do", and pulled out an old, mysterious-looking book called Death. The cover was covered in faded runes, and the book seemed to chill the very air surrounding it. He gladly sold it to the boy at a discounted price of $50. However, he warned the boy never to read the front page. Well, the boy returned to his house and read the book, and he was content. However, he always wondered what could be on that front page...it haunted him, and was always in the back of his mind. One day, the temptation was too much for the boy, and he flipped to the very front of the book, and dropped the book in HORROR. There, in bold print, was the MSRP: $7.99.
Lawl, I stole this idea and turned it into a short film. Here's the result. --Jericho 01:32, 26 July 2008 (CDT)
Short? nigga please.
The Withering Belief
In the long forgotten annals of human history, there is a being. This being is not of this existence, I doubt it exists outside our own imaginations. But that does not stop it, no more than you can stop nature. Once you learn of this being, it finds you. Not unlike a parasite, it leeches off your doubts. Not any old doubts, but your own doubts that it even exists in the first place. this would be harmless if it wasn't for the fact that, the more it leeches, the more you believe. The more you believe the stronger it becomes.
And when every fiber of your being believes...
Well, I'll leave that for you to find out.
The Carrot
A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old he heard about "pegging." This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend's a little sex maniac. He's always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it's going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyor belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.
So, my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.
Like he's going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.
At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.
Then, this kid, his mom yells it's suppertime. She says to come down, right now.
He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.
After dinner, he goes to find the carrot and it's gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.
This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him. And they never do. Ever. Even now he's grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with his kids, his parents' grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.
That something too awful to name.
Annoying Med Student
An unpopular young med student had been particularly annoying one day and some of her classmates decided to play a trick on her. They snuck into her room after she'd gone to bed and placed an amputated arm into bed with her. The next morning they anxiously awaited her reaction but got none. Eventually they went up to check on her and found her sitting on the bed, moaning and gurgling as she gnawed on the arm.
Video Tape
A degenerated VHS dub was discovered in the University Library containing five minutes of inexplicable amateur footage. In one continuous shot, the camera momentarily focuses on a doorway on the north wall of a living room before the operator climbs outside of the house through a window to show the exterior white clapboard. The camera then moves inside the house through a second window completely circling the doorway and so proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that insulation or siding is the only possible thing this doorway could lead to. A hand appears in the frame and pulls open the door, revealing a narrow black hallway at least ten feet long. The camera begins to move closer, threatening to actually enter it. A voice can be heard, "Don't you dare go in there again, Davy," to which another voice adds, "Yeah, not such a hot idea."
(lulz, house of leaves)
The Post Office
In the panhandle of Oklahoma, along the interstate, there is a lone brick building marked "Post Office No. 56", and is marked with tape at the door as "Closed". The building has no doors, and looks like a small box of bricks from a distance. The door is always locked, and will never budge, no matter how hard you try.
Every July 7th, if you are positioned to the west of the building with the door opposite of where you stand, your nose will begin to bleed. If you drink some of the blood, one of your teeth will fall out.
Take the tooth and go to the door. The tape will no longer be there, and the building will have one small eye shaped window.
If you go to the window and place the tooth in it, the door will click open. Do not look in the window. Never look in the window.
When you open the door, a slow salty breeze will blow out, and the entire room will be pitch black. Enter the room and shut the door. You will wait 10 minutes to 40 minutes, depending on the last time you saw your parents.
After the time is up, a single shrill scream will sound. If you flinch, you will wake up in your bed, sweating. If you don't flinch, close your eyes quickly and start running. You will run for about 4-7 minutes depending on how fast you are, then you will hit a wall. Do not open your eyes.
The ground will feel warm, and your eyelids will see the color red. Do not open your eyes. Just feel around until you find a ring on the floor. The ring will be cold as ice. Pull on the ring and a trapdoor will open. Enter the trapdoor.
After doing this, you will fall through the roof of an office tile in a building in downtown Tulsa, in a bathroom stall. In the toilet will be a wallet and a gold ring. Take the gold ring, do not touch the wallet.
Arabian Scrolls
You've heard some of the crazy things the U.S. soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan have been finding, right? Like, stuff from the palaces, stuff in old caves, stuff in bunkers, like golden swords, big honkin' vases, expensive jewelry, thousand year old lamps and stuff?
They found something big, just recently.
Some marines were poking around in an old cave, and they found this chest, and in it was a collection of remarkably preserved scrolls written on what seemed to be flesh.
Who here is familiar with the works of Abdul Alhazred?
Yep. They found a genuine first edition copy of his number-one best seller, Al Azif.
You might know it better as the Necronomicon.
Change For A Dollar
The next time you make a purchase, hand the clerk a $1 bill and ask her to make change. She will hand you back a number of coins, several of which bear the likenesses of long dead historical figures.
Seven Year Weblog
(9/3/06 10:29 pm)
Reply Internet Explorer 3 When using Internet Explorer 3 for Windows (Google around for a version that works on Windows XP), enter this in the address bar (do not copy-paste, you must input it with the keyboard):
for-you://gratitude-and-remembrance
Wait ~ 40 seconds. You will feel strange. Don't fight the feeling, or you will be jerked out of it, and you have only one chance to do it.
A weblog will appear. It will contain events that will happen for the seven next years of your life.
Add /admin/ to the address bar. Try to guess the password your future self would have chosen. There is always a way - discovering it is never out of your reach even if it's a meaningless string of letters.
Once you have access to the admin, you can delete any post you want, and that event will never happen to you.
However, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES you are to edit a post. JUST DON'T.
You have only one hour to do it: after that the connection will be lost.
The In-joke
If, in this twilight of the world, you go back to the beginning of a pilgrimage on the Highway to La Mer, you will get sidetracked. Your dreams will fade, and your mind might become somewhat damaged. Eventually, you will enter a small town, that appears to be empty. When you ask aloud 'where is everybody' you will notice a 22.86cm long nail lying buried in a layer of frost in front of you. If you pick it up, you will notice that it appears to be broken. You'll see the fragments of it, but they won't fit. You really shouldn't give a shit. Holding the nail with your ring finger and thumb, make the tiniest little hole in the ground. Stay down on your knees. Wait. If all has gone well, you will feel yourself start to spiral downwards into the void; as you get closer to the great below, you will seem to be falling even deeper, into a warm place. If you can manage to look up, you will see the sunspots overhead, getting smaller. You can try to stop it, but it keeps on coming Eventually, after you've fallen all of the way down in it, you will arrive in an ocean of violet fluid. It will be the deepest shade of mushroom-blue. You will still be holding the nail. You'll smell stale incense and old sweat, and lies. A voice will echo out of the darkness, asking, "are you ready to meet your master?". If you answer yes, and it's a terrible lie, you will fall a short distance, and well, I hope you can find some sort of happiness in slavery. If you answer no, be prepared for the purest feeling of physical hurt, just like you imagined in your worst nightmares, but it will end with a quick, merciful release into death, from the burn of the march of the pigs. If you truthfully answer yes, you will be approached by a reptile-like man with a few dozen halos and a head like a hole, who will ask you one question; "would you bite the hand that feeds you?" If you answer; "with teeth." you will be justified, purified, and sanctified, inside yourself, and you'll receive several god-given powers, and told to deliver the warning. There will be a massive Quake. No matter how much you scream, "I do not want this!", nothing can stop you now. No matter how hard you try to save yourself, yourself will keep slipping away.You will have no choice; the mark has been made, and the world is closer to the big come down.You will feel something killing away all of your bad parts. You will have have become The Great Destroyer, the Eraser and the frail, the wretched, the fragile, all will bow to your will. The world will be ripe, (with decay.)
-There are Several References to Nine Inch Nails in here. Goddamn you, Finland! 20:05, 19 April 2009 (UTC)
Midnight Mirror
At 12:17 am, on any given night, arises the opportunity to awaken an alternate soul. The most common way of viewing them? Through a mirror.
It is through said medium that the process must take place. Begin at exactly midnight. By no light but that of a single candle, stand before the selected mirror. For ten minutes you must concentrate in silence, focused entirely on your reflection. Do not look away from the eyes; for it will be interpreted as weakness and you will be overcome.
After ten minutes have passed you must draw blood to smear in a line across the eyes of your reflection. Doing so will blind it, and you will watch as your own features begin to warp. Slowly, gradually, they will mutate into a frightening creature--one beyond the comprehension of those who have not experienced it. You must not look away through the entirety of the change.
Soon the writhing movements of the image will cease. By now an echoing, inhuman sound will resound all around you--the creature will begin to ease toward the mirror's glass. You must keep watching as it approaches.
If you do not extinguish the candle at exactly 12:17, the creature will escape.
Be warned, should you succeed; through any polished surface--be it mirror, wood, or window--your reflection will always be watching.
Scientist's Log
Chief Scientist's Log 12/7/2007 12:31 AM
A new find was brought into the lab today. Men working the demolition of a condemned warehouse at this facility discovered a rusty oil barrel that seemed to exude cold. Preliminary electromagnetic field readings yielded chaotic data before the equipment died. Barrel appears to be constructed of stainless steel and, again, radiates cold.
13/7/2007 9:00 PM
We opened the barrel today inside a sealed chamber. Chamber immediately frosted over. Unidentified entity found within the barrel. Appears to be gaseous and black. Indeed, the very light surrounding it appears to be "sucked in" by it's presence. Appears to be sentient, but does not communicate in any understood way. Biological matter that comes into contact with the Entity seems to disintegrate.
14/7/2007 10:11 AM
An intern entered the sealed chamber alone today, without his hazard suit. He was not seen again. The Entity has double in size since being released from containment. Has become aggressive. We are sealing off the chamber immediately in light of it's flesh-consuming properties and rapid growth. All research is halted.
14/7/2007 11:00 AM
It's gone. God help us, it's escaped.
Extra Credit
A university in Canada has two unusual things about it. One is a series of tunnels running under all the buildings. These were built for convenience in transporting things from one building to the next, and for students traveling from class to class during the winter. One building, the experimental psychology building was never attached to this tunnel system. There is only one door out of the building, and a keycode is needed to enter or leave.
The second unusual thing is that all first year psychology students are encouraged to submit their names to the experimental psychology department to be test subjects for harmless research. And for extra credit of course.
Déjà Vu
A déjà vu is actually a glitch in reality, and it indicates that something has just been changed. Someone or something has ceased to exist, all memories and records of their existence erased forever. A déjà vu happens when they get into your brain, when they need to change your memories. Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had.
(There is no spoon)
The Letter
Berlin. 1945. The devastation from the closing act of world war 2 has been terrible and Famine is rampant in the city. A pretty young female is approached by a blind man holding a cane, who asks if she would mind delivering a letter for him. Happy to do a good deed for the poor fellow, she takes the letter and starts off but happens to turn around, only to see the "blind" man scurrying off, his cane and glasses discarded. Naturally becoming suspicious, she summons the police and sends them to the address the man had given her. there they make a gruesome discovery - A processing plant has been harvesting and selling human meat to the starving citizens! And the letter our heroine had been asked to deliver? It contained but a single sentence: "This is the last one I am sending you today."
The Argument
You're the manager for a small store. You hired one of your friends, and you just found out that he's been stealing from the register, stealing stock, abandoning his post to visit with his girlfriend in the back room while he's the only one on duty, and the argument you had with him at the office just didn't settle it for you. You pound on his door. When he opens up, he goes pale, soils himself, and staggers back, gasping for breath.
It doesn't impress you, really; you figure he just thinks you're showing up with the cops, until you step through his door and glance to the side, where you get a good look at yourself in the mirror.
Or at least, the parts of you that are still recognizable after that shotgun blast that your friend gave you at the end of that argument...
36M Get
I took out the 36M Get. Catsup 4:42 November 30, 2007
The 36M Get
Every /b/tard has is familiar with the inability to post associated with a modget. Perhaps you were even unfortunate enough to be deprived of a get yourself because of this. There is a way to reclaim your get, if you would have received one. Create a new thread, posting the picture that you attempted to post for the get with the text "Give me my get elsewhere" attached. If you are mistaken and would not have received the get without mod interference, then you will simply post the thread. However, if you are correct, you will be unable to post the thread, but if you try again and again, eventually you will be redirected to a...different /b/. In this imageboard, every post shall contain a photo of moments of your everyday life. However, the photos will be filled with empty white spots, but DO NOT try to make out what they form, your sanity depends on this. These photos are the true representation of reality. If you saw what filled the spaces, every detail of our world would become apparent. The future would be as easy to know as 2+2. Yet hiding in these white spaces is a thing that Lovecraft couldn't comprehend even in his nightmares. If you think its a fair trade, scroll up to the top of the page, to your get. Instead of your picture, you will see your computer desk, with a white space where you should be sitting. A single glance is enough, your vision will be filled, now and forever, with that which lay underneath the white. It's not a fair trade. But you all will be able to judge that for yourselves. Because I saw the future. The 36 million get will be plastered all over the internet. It's that picture.
Cats
The eyes of a cat are windows to your soul. They can see other dimensions, they can see your aura, and what's wrong with you. A cat knows when you are happy, when you are in bad health, when you are troubled, or when you are hungry. He knows when you are feeling magnanimous, and he knows when you are about to die.
It's fortunate that cats can't talk, because you have a lot of secrets. The cat knows.
The Raven Stone
Out in the barrens of western Montana, there is a rock shaped like a raven's head with half of the beak broken off. If you use your forearm to complete the beak and hold the position for seven minutes and 26 seconds, you will feel a tingling sensation in your arm. You must then get at least 1 mile away from the rock within the next 66 seconds.
If you do this, you will be able to shape shift into any bird, at will.
If you begin the process and fail, you will turn into a crow and never be able to return to human form.
Bodymore, Murderland
Early in the morning of August 19, 2005, the body of a young black man approximately 16 or 17 years old was found on Wolfe Street, in downtown Baltimore. The corpse lay in a pool of blood, and was dressed in a pair of loose jean shorts over white cotton boxers, a Baltimore Ravens football jersey bearing the number 77 and the name Ortiz, a pair of white cotton athletic socks and a small gold cross on a chain around the body's neck. The body wore no shoes, and had no wallet or other identifying possessions. Baltimore City police concluded that the young man had been just another victim of the city's frequent violent crimes. Nobody came forth to claim or identify the body, and it was passed on to the coroner’s office for autopsy. The coroner’s report concluded that the cause of death was blood loss and trauma caused by three shots to the upper chest, one of which penetrated the heart and the other two the left lung.
So far, so normal, right? Here’s the part the official statement left out: There were, indeed, three entry wounds, but there were no exit wounds, and after a thorough search of the body no slugs or fragments were found, nor was there any heat damage. The young man had been killed by three shots to the chest, but there were never any bullets. The body was never identified.
Postscript: As of this writing, the Baltimore Ravens have never had a player who sported the number 77, or who was named Ortiz
State of the Union Address
If you watch every State of the Union Address since it's been filmed and available on tape, you'll see that halfway through--exactly halfway through--the President always says the same word. Most say it under their breath during the standing ovations, but some are forced to work it into the speech itself.
What's the word? You don't want to know.
[anonymous says that it’s Peony, an OTO codeword used to denote a request for aid in ventures into the 8th dimension. There's a flower for all eleven dimensions.]
The Change
Somewhere in West Philadelphia , you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles, and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will suddenly realize that cabs like these are extremely hard to find, do not bear any thought to it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be sometime between 7 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo homes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
Itch
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, its 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.
The Fish in the Mirror
The Fish is a shifting and shining creature that nobody has ever caught but that many say they have glimpsed in the depths of mirrors.
According to Herbert Allen Giles, belief in the Fish is part of a larger myth that goes back to the times of the Yellow Emperor. In those days the world of mirrors and the world of men were not, as they are now, cut off from each other. They were, besides, quite different; neither beings nor colors nor shapes were the same. Both kingdoms lived in harmony; you could come and go through mirrors. One night the mirror people invaded the earth. Their power was great, but at the end of bloody warfare the magic arts of the Yellow Emperor prevailed. He repulsed the invaders, imprisoned them in their mirrors, and forced on them the task of repeating, as though in a kind of dream, all the actions of men. He stripped them of their power and of their forms and reduced them to mere reflections. Nonetheless, a day will come when the spell will be shaken off. The first to awaken will be the Fish. Deep in the mirror we will perceive a very faint line and the color of this line will be like no other color. Later on, other shapes will begin to stir. Little by little they will differ from us; little by little they will not imitate us. They will break through the barriers of glass or metal.
Side by side with these mirror creatures, the creatures of water will join the battle. In Yunnan they do not speak of the Fish but of the Tiger of the Mirror. Others believe that in advance of the invasion we will hear from the depths of mirrors the clatter of weapons. And this time, they will not be defeated.
Boy in cap
There's is no exact day when this happens. But it just is that way. Passed midnight, you will 3 knocks on your door. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR. You will hear a single knock this time and this is when you must open it. In front of you will be a little boy or girl wearing a white cap, apparently 11 years old. He will ask you for a glass of water because he says he is very tired. You have to ask him why is he tired and what's he doing so late outside and he will just answer "I'm goin home" and he will answer nothing more. Go for the glass of water and give it to him, but while receiving the glass, he will take off his baseball cap to dry the sweat off his forehead and drop his cap to he ground. DO NOT TOUCH THE CAP DO NOT PICK IT UP He will spect you to do it and doesn't matter how much time it takes, he mus pick it up NOT YOU. After he picks up his cap and gives you the glass, he will leave the house and disappear into the darkness shadows DO NOT WAIT FOR HIM TO DISAPPEAR. Quickly lock the door and GO TO SLEEP don't stay awake any longer. If you did otherwise of what it was written here, you will fall unconscious and wake up in the middle of the street, at dark, wearing a white baseball cap, lost like a kid, just walking back home.
Cell Phone
If you call yourself on your own cellular phone, sometimes you will get an answer. You won't hear anything other than heavy breathing, so don't bother waiting for them to speak. If you then say the name of a person you know and a reason that they should die (reasons like "I just want them dead" do work), then they will die a gruesome death within the next 24 hours. Their horribly mangled corpse will be completely unrecognizable, and there is never any evidence pointing to a specific perpetrator so the person(s) that performs this service has never been caught. This was how the infamous Black Dahlia murder was perpetrated.
Hotel California
They say that somewhere in western America, some say in Utah, others say on the California coast, there's a certain small motel on the side of the road.
When you go inside, it's decorated in very common hotel decor, with the ornate paneling and old-fashioned key-lock doors.
The thing is, there's a room in there for everybody. Everybody has a reservation for exactly when they show up, and the number of rooms available is always one more than the number of people there. One person to a room, that is the rule.
Some say that the song "Hotel California" is based off this motel, though you *can* leave this particular motel.
I wouldn't advise looking at a mirror for at least a month after doing so, though.
Yet Another "Mirror" Story
The next time you're alone in your room, turn down the lights. Think of something on your body that varies in length, such as hair. It must be clearly viewable from your perspective. Grab a ruler and, looking in the mirror, quickly grab a hair at random; you must confuse it. Hold it in position as best you can and note the length. Look down. Yours will be different.
Don't look back up.
Don't turn your back to that mirror ever again.
The Notebook
No one knows how or why this happens, but every hundred years or so, a notebook with a black cover and an indecipherable title will appear on public ground somewhere in the world. If you ever come across this notebook, you may be tempted to pick it up. Do so, and as long as you possess it, you will see visions of a tall, gaunt, pale creature, always appearing nearby, saying nothing except for strange words in a foreign tongue, and miming writing motions with its hands. Should you take the creature up on its suggestions, you'll find that words written in the book cannot be erased; furthermore, there will always be an empty page available to you, regardless of how much you write. What is MORE startling is what happens when a name is written in the book; as long as you can clearly envision the person's face in your mind, he or she will die within the day.
It is said that the end will come to you when the creature writes your name in the notebook itself; your death will be swift, but neither heaven nor hell will await you after you die.
(lulz, Death Note rip-off)
The Sculptor
There once was a master sculptor who prospered in a strict, but respected art school. He was excellent in his craft, quickly surpassing the skill of his master and that of his fellow pupils. However, he was too good at his trade, and grew bored after just a few sculptures. They were masterpieces, each perfectly designed and executed, but to the sculptor, they were just plain and simple. He wanted something more, something new, something different. He started to experiment with new techniques and different substances, but was discouraged from doing so by his envious artistic peers. He had still been able to make masterpieces, unlike any the world had known before. However, in doing so, he had violated many art laws, which his peers took very seriously. But he didn't listen to them, so they destroyed his statues and exiled him. Then they brought him to a manhole which lead to a sewer and said, "Here is your new workspace! Let's see you work with this!" And they threw him in.
The sculptor looked around. They had sealed him inside the sewer. What was he going to do? He couldn't live here. Covered in grime and sludge and muck, he realized that he would die here, dirty, alone, and unappreciated. Determined to make one last sculpture, he needed a subject. "I'm going to die here," he thought. "So I might as well leave a record of my existence." And so the sculptor decided upon a subject: himself. Now all he needed was a material, but what was there down here that he could use? Looking at his filthy hands, he figured it would be useless trying to stay clean, so he looked around to see a potential material with which to sculpt.
Splat, splish, splash.
The sculptor turned toward this curious noise. It was human excrement. He was in a sanitary sewer. As this was the only thing there, he began to collect it and sculpt. He found that it was actually the best substance he had ever worked with. The sculptor worked for hours on end, without food or water, and finished his self-sculpture, and signed it, proving his existence. However, he collapsed of exhaustion in the process. Laying in the waste of what quite possibly could be that of his former art peers', he died, longing to work more with this newly discovered substance.
It is said that his ghost still wanders the sewers of the world, traveling through sewage pipes to collect the materials that he so desires. However, out of his hatred for his jealous art peers, he creates only the most horrific-looking sculptures. He will go so far to gather excrement that he will go to your very own toilet, the moment you sit down, sticking his hand just under your bottom with a bag to collect your bowel movements. If you try to look at it, it will disappear before you are able to notice it, and if you get constipated and make him impatient, he will remove your bowels for you. However, if he still does not extract them, he will drag you through the sewers to his workplace, where he will show you his terrible sculptures. They'll scare the shit out of you.
The Terrible Bastard of Death
So one time, right, there was this big, I mean seriously big apartment building, mainly used for student housing. Anyway, in the middle of the day, on some day other than October 31, the students in room 65 get a phone call.
"There's a new student going to be moving in next to you," says the voice on the other end. They ask who it is, no answer. But sure enough, the next day, there's boxes of stuff outside the room next to theirs. They hear movement and footsteps, but every time they go out, y'know, to introduce themselves, there's nobody there.
Coupla weeks pass, right? And they start forgetting about it. There's no new car in the parking lot, and nobody new on the bus to college. But then it starts to smell. Not just their corridor, not just their floor, the whole apartment block starts smelling of bad eggs and rotting meat. And when they're going to or from their apartment, they notice some weird liquid trickling under the door of the room next to theirs.
But everyone buys some air freshener, and they start forgetting about it again. But then the screaming starts, in the middle of the night. Screams of horror, sounding really close by. They try putting on some music, but after a few nights, the lack of sleep starts really fucking them up. So they knock on their unseen neighbor's door, to try and get them to shut up; no answer. They look through the keyhole. If it was red, they'd've been worried, they've heard all the stories, but no, they can see through fine, and it's just a normal-looking apartment, basically the same as theirs.
Next day there's a body in the parking lot behind the building. It's clearly been thrown from high up.
'Why does our bastard neighbour have to do all this fucking shit?' asks one of them, looking out the window at the body. 'He's acting like a fucking nut!'
'At least it distracts everyone from our murdering,' replies another, forcing some mangled flesh into the food disposal.
Exorcisms
Exorcisms are often the theme of horror movies. Most people shrug them off and think that they are fake.
They're not.
But they are also not the way Hollywood portrays them to be. Instead, when a mere mortal tries to perform an exorcism, the demon leaves its original host, and enter the priest's body. More than likely though, since they're priests, the demon has no control over them, and soon leaves. However, there are certain instances when the priest lets the demon take control over him. The demon is wiser this time around though, and does not completely take over the body, which would cause another exorcism. This time, he gently influences the thoughts of the “priests” to do horrific things. Since priests have knowledge and experience in the “Spiritual Realm,” the demon can curse people, damn people, the works. The people around the priest have no knowledge of his demonic possession, and neither does he. After meditating on demonic practices, the priest and demon become one, allowing the demon to enter the world as a physical being. Once in this dimension, the demon has almost unlimited power.
Over 150 people have been found dead after fighting with priests on Sunday morning the following day in the past decade. Take these words of advice; don't fight priests, and if you do, carry a Bible on you at all times for at least twelve days.
The Pretty Cake Room
On Friday the 13th, find a steel door and paint an inverted crucifix on it with lamb's blood; then knock. Put your ear to the door, and listen; within 30 seconds, you should hear someone ask, "Who sent you?" to which you must reply, "Brian Peppers." (If you hear anything else, or something you can't quite make out, or hear nothing within 30 seconds, turn in a clockwise direction to face the south, and yell "BUM DARTS" at the top of your lungs; then quickly leave.) The door will then open in the opposite direction its hinges go, revealing a stunning white light, which will fade in 3.14 seconds. If you are timely in stepping over the threshold, you will find yourself standing in a kitchen with no doors or windows; even the door you came through will be gone, replaced by a wall. In the kitchen there will be an oven, cupboards stuffed with ingredients, and cooking implements laid neatly on a wooden prep table, along with an open cookbook. The most important thing is the cookbook. You must do the cooking by the book. Flip to the recipe named "Pretty Cake," if not there already (under no circumstances use the one with the title "Messy Recipe"). Do exactly as the cookbook instructs, following its directions to the letter. A song will be playing loudly, repetitively, to remind you of the importance of following the cookbook, and reassuring you that it's a piece of cake. If you are successful, you will have a cake. If you fail, you will have to eat what comes out of the oven; whatever it is will not be pretty, or in any way resemble a cake. Before you are released from this room, two conditions must be met: The thing you have made must be completely eaten, and everything must be restored to the exact state it was in when you got there. If anything is the smallest atom out of place, you will be denied exit. The song also never stops playing.
The Prince's Fresh Start
Somewhere in West Philadelphia, you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles, and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will suddenly realize that cabs like these are extremely hard to find, do not bear any thought to it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say ‘Yo homes to Bel Air’. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be sometime between 7 and 8 o’clock, even though it will feel like you’ve been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say ‘Yo homes, smell ya later!’, but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
The Building in the Woods
In my city, there was an abandoned building. It used to serve as a storage facility for wood. It was long abandoned, and nature almost completely reclaimed it. Although it was tough to get there, when you did it was worth it. Teenagers hung out there, it was a place to get away from the house, and away from your parents.
For some reason, nobody ever went into the dark part of the complex, where no beam of sunlight ever hit the walls. Me and my friends were talking about it, and we decided to venture into the darkness. We were curious, and we wanted to look cool. We went home, and packed our bags. We brought potato chips, beer and flashlights. We didn't actually believe in ghosts. Ghosts were something that was used to scare little kids, we thought.
People thought we were crazy, for going into the dark part. For some reason, you didn't want to stay there long. the air just had a smell of terror. We got used to the very few light we had quickly. We sat there, the 5 of us, and drank some beer. Then one of my friends noticed there was a staircase leading downstairs. We challenged eachother, but mostly ourselves, to go down there. It was even darker here. But we got used to this as well, and decided to hang around a little longer. We drank some beer, and joked around a little bit. As i walked around, i noticed there was a wooden barricade set up. I could just see past it, and noticed there was yet another staircase there. I called over my buddy's, and we removed some of the wooden boards. They were to be removed quite easily, and we were able to pass through. As we were walking down the stairs, we noticed that this floor was completely flooded.
The water smelled like rotting corpses, and i got a strange feeling in my gut. We whispered, as we were all absolutely terrified. It was completely silent, and then we heard a scream. The scream of a young woman. Our flashlights stopped working.
I ran like hell, and i screamed at the top of my lungs. I heard my friends yell behind me. I didn't wait. I was too scared. When i got out, the sun was setting. I ran out of the building, into the woods, and i fell asleep beside a tree. Only two of us made it out that day.
The police investigated the site. They found the body of a beautiful 20-year old woman, who had drowned there. My friends are still missing.
Bethany
The phone rings. I run to get it, thinking it may be my dad, coming to rescue me from Myrlie's house and tell me everything about Elizabeth and then everything would be allright. Mom would stop crying, Elizabeth would just be some girl Mom knew during childhood, and everything would be allright.
I finally reach the phone. "Oh, Elizabeth!" the person on the other end cries. It's not my dad. It's mom.
"Mom? This is Bethany. Not Elizabeth."
"Oh, Elizabeth, you silly girl! Is this one of your made up aliases? Listen, Elizabeth, I've called to say good-bye."
"Mom? This isn't Elizabeth. This is Bethany. What are you talking about?"
"Elizabeth! I know you're a little doped up on the medicine the hospital's been giving you. Ever since the crash I've been knowing exactly what would happen."
"Mom, you're scaring me, please," I beg. But mom will not listen.
"I wanted to say good-bye, to tell you that I loved you and that you will be with us again soon after you...pass away."
"Mom? Is that you? Mom, please! Tell me what you're talking about!" I cry
"We've saved some of your cells, and we'll make an exact copy of you. It'll be like it never even happened, Lizzy!" Joy is amidst in her voice.
There was a long silence on the phone. "What do you mean?" I whisper.
"Oh, Elizabeth, you'll be alive once more, you'll look exactly the same. So will Mommy and Daddy. Your thirteenth birthday has come, and you will die tonight, just like all the others. I love you so much, sweetie. Myrlie will give you your poison, and now we will drink ours. Oh, my Elizabeth! Elizabeth Krull, I drink to you!"
Then she hangs up, leaving me with the haunting monotone "boooop" noise.
My heart is racing. I hear Myrlie's footsteps. I skirt out of the kitchen and run out front. That's when I notice that the doormat is gone. Written in chalk in all capital letters is: "BETHANY: Place of figs; a town of ressurection." Then, "DIGISPUR CLONING."
The next feeling I feel is a piercing ache, silver bullet in the brain.
.....
"Oh, she's beautiful, what will you name her?" the nurse says.
"I don't know. Perhaps Elizabeth."
Phone Call for Christina
A brother and a sister, as well as a friend who was spending the night, watched Mall Cop together. Their names were Kevin, Anne, and Christina. So, while watching their movie, the phone rings, Kevin goes to get it. Picking the phone up he asks 'Hello?' and a woman said 'Hi, is Christina there?' so Kevin went and gave the phone to Christina. Christina said hello, waited a few minutes, and gave the phone back to Kevin. 'Whoever called hung up.' So they continued watching their movie until the phone rang again, this time Christina went to get it. "Hello?" She asked. "Hello, this is an automated message about your car," Christina hung up and went back to watching the movie. In the last ten minutes of Mall Cop, Christina simply could not hold in her pee anymore, and excused herself to go to the bathroom down the hall. When she finished, a phone started ringing in a room down the hall. "I'll get it!" Christina said, and dashed off to go answer the phone. After a few minutes, Anna managed to shake her television induced stupor to say. "We don't have a phone down the hall, do we? Besides our cell phones, right?" Kevin and Anna both went down the hall and saw Christina standing in the door way, her back to them. She turned around, and handed a phone to them. "For you." Was all Christina said, blood running out of her mouth.
Creepy? No. Creepy potential? Yes
There must be some creepier pictures out there. These ones don't even make my cheeks shiver let alone make my hairs stand on end, with the exception of the little girl picture. Damn that's creepy. Wissam 13:09, 27 September 2007 (CDT)
- You're more than welcome to post some if you find any. All the ones I posted were taken from /b/ creepy threads... I like the horse and the three by Beksiński the most, personally. The horse has that uncanny valley thing going on. --Spacey 15:32, 27 September 2007 (CDT)
- Whoever the fuck posted the WTCats needs to fucking choke. That's about as scary as a girl covered in spunk. Furthermore, none of these are remotely spooky or creepy. The little girl's close, but no cigar. JAF 10:27, 28 of September, 2007 (EST)
- "The Video Tape" is taken from the book House of Leaves by Mark Danielewlskwewiskwii. Don't know if that merits a removal or not, just wanted to toss that out here. That book is full of creepypasta, but just like the duckroll, it ends in fail. Choppadoo 20:02, 29 September 2007 (CDT)
- I noticed that, and whoever posted it didn't even bother to change the format. It would be less lame to say "somewhere in New England, there is a house with a doorway that should lead nowhere", or somesuch. The change for $1 one is lame too. Damn-o-tron 15:47, 30 September 2007 (CDT)
- "The Carrot" is from the short story Guts by Chuck Palahniuk, pretty creepy in its own right but maybe a bit long for here...
- I added some of the best pictures from my /x/ folder. What the hell is creepy about the WTcats, joy, and facemash pictures, though? Catsup 2:15, 10 of September, 2007 (EST)
FUCK YOU!!!
I needed something to cure my aids right now but can;t read it because am alone fuck this shit!!!! I have one of our cats... do cats count?????
Answer: A cat is fine too
Christopher?
Who the fuck is Christopher? Should the edit be copied to a relevant article, or just outright baleeted? Tiberseptim 14:06 November 21, 2007
I baleeted it and added some actual creepypasta in its place. Catsup 12:14 November 24, 2007
I added another creepypasta. I don't remember if I put it there before or not... Catsup 5:07 November 24, 2007
Epic thread on /x/
Moar creepypasta on it's way =D-- Poobz 19:20, 9 December 2007 (CST)
Sanguine Message
If you can read this Jerome, proceed with the plan...
OKAY BOSS! SHUTTING DOWN ALL KFC RESTAURANTS IN THE WORLD NOW.
Epic article
Read all of this since I was majorly fucking bored, and while there's a few shitty ones on here, there's some that were pretty fucking scary. Remove some of the shitty ones so it's less cluttered with shit, because some of them are fucking scary.
- What were the bad ones? Poobz 15:14, 25 January 2008 (CST)
- Yeah, if we can get something of a consensus on which ones aren't any good, then we can trim the article a bit. I've never really liked Cats, The Raven Stone, or Extra Credit, but I didn't want to get rid of them without some input from others. If you do get rid of any, you can just add them to this talk page.--Endedrural 16:29, 25 January 2008 (CST)Endedrural
- Here are the ones I don't really care for: The In-Joke (moved to talk because its formatting and grammar is shit), The Raven, Hotel California, The Corner, Midnight Mirror (moved to talk; ripoff of others), The Third (moved to talk; stupid), Scientist's Log (moved to talk; ripoff of like 20 scifi movie plots), The Most Important News, The Empty Vial, Déjà Vu (moved to talk; Matrix ripoff), Extra Credit (moved to talk), The Argument (moved to talk, just not scary), John Smith (moved to The Holders) --Spacey
- The best serious thread ever. I won't sleep for ages -Thespammer 22:30, 29 March 2008 (CDT)
- srsly. i didn't make it more than 3 in. i need to GTFO and read something lulzy :((( Cheapsuit 01:35, 19 April 2008 (CDT)
- Thanks! I and several other people have worked pretty hard on this article, I'm glad everyone likes it. I'm going to continue to move more of the lower-quality ones onto the talk page, I'd really like to keep the main article 100 percent excellent. That holds for the gallery as well. --Spacey 01:59, 19 April 2008 (CDT)
- I'd agree, this is when encyclopedia comes together and is successful, bravo everyone involved
Shit Articles
"Benjamin Franklin," "Ferrari," "Apple-a-Day-Doctor bullshit." How am I supposed to infer that the character in the Apple a Day story is supposed to be a Doctor? Because he carries a bag of metal instruments? That's quite a fucking leap. Why does this article get to be taken seriously? I could be off-track, but I think some of this stuff totally needs to be made fun of. I'll add more stories that I think are shit here in a moment. Sgt. Cowboy 21:57, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
- This is documenting a meme. The caliber of the stories does not matter. We are simply housing the stories that get posted so we can completely document the meme. This is like bitching about the books in a library. White ♥ Mistress 21:58, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
"Freakshow" blows. "One for the Baron" is okay, but it could totally be made fun of. It may be documenting a meme, but it totally fails in the lulz department. Besides, other memes get made fun of. That's how things roll, isn't it? Sgt. Cowboy 22:02, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
- No, god damn it. Every article doesn't exist just to mock things. This is a fucking encyclopedia and if you can make an article that factually documents something (like this one) without fagging it up, that is highly encouraged. White ♥ Mistress 22:06, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
- Why? Am I totally off track? Is this site NOT to document lulz? Why do other memes get shat on and this one gets treated like gospel when there's obviously shit in it? Sgt. Cowboy 22:08, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
- Also, if the idea is to document it without fagging it up, this meme fails. Sgt. Cowboy 22:10, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
Every article does not need to mock the subject. This site exists to document internet drama and lulz. DOCUMENT is the key word there. Some of the best articles on this site are totally factual and stick to documenting the subject without adding stupid commentary. You're just being a fucking idiot and obtuse on purpose because this is not a hard concept and if you've been here for more than five minutes, you will understand this. White ♥ Mistress 22:11, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
- K. Well, there's a line of sarcasm at the end of the Ferrari article (that I didn't add). It apparently slipped by your obviously superior wit. Sgt. Cowboy 22:14, 6 June 2008 (CDT)
Should The Change get a link to Bel-Air? You know, because that's pretty much all it is. --SelphishJeen 19:35, 15 September 2008 (CDT)
- Couldn't I just make a creepypasta myself and post it here? Or do I have to post it on /x/ or something to get it here? - Terriblefrog
- No, go right ahead. If it's good, it will stay in the main article, but we can always just move it to the talk page if it isn't up to scratch. The only reason /x/ is mentioned is it happens to be the source of much of the creepypasta we get. ~ endedrural (talk)
01:18, 20 October 2009 (CDT)
- Thanks! Creepypasta is AWESOME amirite? I wrote "The Sculptor" - Terriblefrog
- How come it "didn't make the cut"? I thought it was pretty good. - Terriblefrog
- It was written better than most of the others, but it just had too much of a sense of humor to it (just my opinion, anyway). Maybe that's not what you were going for, but I don't know, I guess all of the shit (literally) just kind of softened to tone of it for me. As did the closing line. It actually seemed kind of funny. It wasn't bad, though. It's just I think there were a few others like it that were moved to the talk page a while back. We try to keep the main article for srs, creepy entries. But anyone else is free to throw an opinion out there, and we could put it back in. Idk, maybe I'm just not in a creepypasta mood. ~ endedrural (talk) 01:00, 21 October 2009 (CDT)
- Oh I get it. Thanks for explaining. Is there maybe another article that it would fit into better? BTW, look at the title of this discussion. "Shit Articles". Mine makes the cut under here. HA HA HA. - Terriblefrog
- No, go right ahead. If it's good, it will stay in the main article, but we can always just move it to the talk page if it isn't up to scratch. The only reason /x/ is mentioned is it happens to be the source of much of the creepypasta we get. ~ endedrural (talk)
- I wrote "Immortality", my first attempt at serious creepypasta. Is it any good? Terriblefrog
- Looks good, man. ~ endedrural (talk) 21:58, 23 October 2009 (CDT)
- Looks good, man. ~ endedrural (talk)
The story you wrote was actually impressive, good work man! Killerjeff 00:21, 3 November 2008 (CST)
- Thx! BTW is that really ur face? u could scare ppl 2 DEATH it must b sweet i might not b writin normally anymoar jus so u kno Terriblefrog 20:46, 6 November 2008 (CST)
- A bit more on topic: In "Loneliness", the last sentence, "Take it from me" should be removed. But that's just my opinion. Any thoughts? Also, in the creepypasta "Lucid Dreamer" I think a few edits should be made. For instance, the swearing detracts so much of the serious from the it and even the raping part seems a bit out of place. I decided to change it a little. Here is my edit of the creepypasta: Dreams are just your mind dealing with the day's events, right? Nothing paranormal about that; everyone does it. I mean, there are places you often visit in your dreams. A certain house, a shop, a school... but these places are just figments of your imagination. Have you ever wondered about these places and the people within them? These people are called "lucid dreamers". You are the ones who can control what happens in your dreams. You do terrible things to those you hate. But have you ever wondered what happened to that person you tortured? Or the one whose fate you cruelly decided? Or the one who slowly died by your hand? Do you remember these things? They do. Dreams are difficult to recall. But nightmares are much easier to remember. Dreams, in general, are more than you think. They are connections to another realm, another dream, another person. Everything you did to them, and you know who I'm talking about, was in their dream, their nightmare. But you often visit the same place more than once don't you? So do other people. But what happens when the other person is in control of "your" dream? What do you think they'll do to you? Terriblefrog 23:09, 15 November 2008 (CST)
- HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Who removed my "Immortality" creepypasta and why? I thought it was pretty good. Terriblefrog 21:42, 20 December 2008 (CST)
That pure white thing.
Is there a story about him?
Removing Stuff, Adding Stuff (ongoing...)
The stuff I removed: I did so because the stories weren't really quality. "Cellphone" was especially bad, as it's redolent of the One Missed Call jalopy and...just not true. If you call your own cellphone, you'll get your voicemail, and apparently no one has yet realised celphones weren't invented at the time of the Black Dahlia murder.
"The Fish in the Mirror" didn't make much sense and for damn sure shouldn't have started off the page.
"Hotel California" not only not creepy, but totally un-original (obviously). Finally, "Boy in cap" was...poorly written, and that's putting it nicely.
I hope this won't ruffle too many feathers. RoyalShitbrick 17:27, 12 August 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
- Removed "The Other Earth" -- pointless and not at all creepy -- and put in an edited version of "The Third" that I edited "for cohesion and grammar", as they say on TOW. RoyalShitbrick 17:52, 14 August 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
- Removing "The Mirror" (umpteenth fucking mirror story and by far the least interesting) and replacing it with "The Wishes" and "Moonlight Films", two of my all-time faves -- the first one is especially good, really makes you think... RoyalShitbrick 11:03, 15 August 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
- Have been over the course of several days been adding more and more pix to the page, too. Some of them are pretty quality. RoyalShitbrick 11:03, 15 August 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
- Removed several stories that were either incoherent or retarded, and re-wrote still another -- "Five Minutes" -- into something halfway presentable, and then added a few I found on Creepypasta.com. The quality of the posted Creepypasta on this site seems to have gone downhill... RoyalShitbrick 11:10, 30 October 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
"Jeff Cutting Out His Own Tongue"
Whoever is doing this needs to stop. If it is indeed a screencap of some poor sap cutting out his own tongue, well then good for him, but there's no need to put a caption on it. Saying so. RoyalShitbrick 11:03, 15 August 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
For Being a Dickhead
Sorry. I hope you will accept my most recent edit on this article as an offering of good will. Sgt. Cowboy 14:32, 15 August 2008 (CDT)
About Jeff.
Where did you guys find my picture at? That's impressive. And if you don't know what I'm talking about then look......
- I don't think it was one of this article's editors specifically that found it, but the above images have been floating around the internet for a while. They're particularly popular in creepypasta threads on chan imageboards, because they're kind of scary looking. The controversy over them on this site was due to some guy trying to add captions to them. This article is supposed to be serious and creepy, and having captions such as "This figure here is Newgrounds user KillerJeff. Blah blah blah giving credit blah blah." There's nothing wrong with giving credit to the image's creator, but it was throwing off the tone of the article. Anyway, that's about the gist of it. ~ endedrural (talk) 02:37, 12 September 2009 (CDT)
- Obvious troll is obvious, that's all I have to say. RoyalShitbrick 14:27, 14 September 2008 (CDT)RoyalShitbrick
- Yeah, nice try asshole: http://bbsimg.ngfiles.com/1/17338000/ngbbs48b9ddc926d13.jpg
Look what I have here. http://www.youtube.com/v/l4ZL-57j7fo"
Have any idea who this guy really is?
- How scary, the guy's origin story is apparently a lamer version of The Joker's. Excuse me as I shit my pants in fright.--Krazy 14:03, 30 November 2008 (CST)
- The man is an actual person. He got acid poured all over his face in January 1st, 2007. His Brother Liu is his accomplice in the murders in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. 7 police men were found dead in the back alleys and streets in the town of New Jersey at 5:42pm in September 7th, 2007, one day after his 20th Birthday. Basically trying to stop the corruption of the world that brings him in Despair and unreasonable rage which Liu has to calm him down by forcefully keeping Jeff in his embrace.
His own disfigured features also keep him in a depressed state, Jeff is known to numb the pain of his changed life by drinking large amounts of alcohol, during that time he would laugh at life and be a comic madman that would cause even Liu to chuckle at times. Jeff was this complex man who would do anything to make his and Liu's life easier, even if he has to murder innocent people. Killerjeff 22:01, 3 December 2008 (CST)
- Stop gaying up this page you talentless fat fuck. No one cares. --Spacey 01:56, 4 December 2008 (CST)
- My weight is not the same as yours fool. Killerjeff 02:05, 4 December 2008 (CST)
Add Jeff the killer.
Since there's been a lot of discussion about this man, you might as well make him more famous. In fact, make an article about him, he already made a YouTube video about his life and his brother Liu. It's up to whoever is willing to create Jeff's and Liu's article.
- What the fuck are you doing? Don't fake my signature on comments. Also, I claim sole use of that dancing yoshi. ~ endedrural (talk) 01:18, 20 October 2009 (CDT)
- What the fuck are you doing? Don't fake my signature on comments. Also, I claim sole use of that dancing yoshi. ~ endedrural (talk)
Moonlight Films
Should we include things that are clearly stolen from a pop culture source with a few details changed? The section in this article called "Moonlight Films" is almost completely stolen from a part of the plot of the game Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines. For comparison, here is a basic description of what happens in game:
The player must retrieve a tape. Characters who talk about it refer to this feared object as "the tape". They don't want to talk about it. Eventually, the player gets info about "Death Mask Productions", who distributes the tape, after persuading the owner of a local store selling smut to give him the info. He is told that he must pick up a payphone, where he must correctly respond to a line about the moon. If he doesn't respond correctly, he is hung up on. When he responds correctly, he is told to go to a certain apartment room. It is in a similar state of disrepair as described in the creepypasta story. The seedy apartment room contains the tape. When he watches the tape, he finds it is a snuff film recording the murder of a woman by strange creatures.
He never needs to return it, as he eventually kills the members of Death Mask Productions. However, the stories are similar, and the tones (they dark, mysterious writing of creepypasta and the dark, mysterious overtone about a game that's serious about vampires) tie them together even further. The questions are, is this some 4channers modified version of one of the more interesting parts of the game, and if so, does it matter?PastaLicker 23:03, 31 October 2008 (CDT)
Not quite, anyway, have a good day. Killerjeff 00:47, 2 November 2008 (CDT)
- Another story was taken from a video game: The wishes. It's the exact same story, word for word, told by one of the sensate spheres in 'Planescape:Torment'. -The Hobo 19:48, 27 January 2009 (CST)
Some of these are pretty good
(in the article, not the talk page)
static one is kind of stupid though
and as for the Bad Dream - if that were me, I'd be so freaked out I'd probably end up popping Mommy in the lip . . . and then apologizing profusely when she screams "OW! YOU FCKING SON OF A BITCH!" Replicant10000 01:58, 9 November 2008 (CST)
- Hey, what about Jeff the killer? He's pretty cool. Killerjeff 04:53, 9 November 2008 (CST)
In case you're wondering
I'm Nick. I'm the one that posted the "rita" creepypasta. Don't erase it, because you and I both know it's true. And okay, it's a little funny. Nick "Franco" Murphy 02:30, 12 February 2009 (UTC)
- Cool. Story. Bro. - Your Captain Speaking [LOL TALK]
02:49, 11 February 2009 (UTC)
Smile.jpg?
I'm surprised this is missing, or doesn't have its own article. If it does, disregard this, I suck cocks. RatHead
AWW HELL NO
Okay, you know what? I wanna see the asshole who had the BALLS to take down my story! What I did was important! THEY NEED TO KNOW! THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW ABOUT RITA AND HER DEMONIC FOLLOWING! I SWEAR TO GOD, SHOW YOURSELF! WHOEVER TOOK THE GODDAMN STORY DOWN, SHOW YOURSELF SOHBASJSUQQWOIIWILLKILLYOURFAMILYWHARRRRRRRRRRRRGARBL Nick "Franco" Murphy 03:52, 19 February 2009 (UTC)
- Pretty sure it was me. And how you reacted is more or less the very definition of butthurt.RoyalShitbrick 20:59, 19 February 2009 (UTC)RoyalShitbrick
Sorry, Will Smith
I took out the Fresh Prince pasta -- it's clever and all, but the article itself is about scary shit and sorta ruins the tone. I'm probably missing the point, but meh, down it goes.RoyalShitbrick 20:55, 20 February 2009 (UTC)RoyalShitbrick
Ferrari Creepypasta
What, and I really ask this.. What Ferrari has a boot big enough to fit a body? Seriously. - Your Captain Speaking [LOL TALK] 
10:51, 21 April 2009 (UTC)
Ichor Falls
Added two pasta from Ichor Falls, a place of absolutely exsquisite creepiness. The stories are, though, for the most part, rather too long for this site, so, only the short ones can be posted. RoyalShitbrick 16:49, 2 July 2009 (UTC)RoyalShitbrick
Hide and Seek, hmm?
Is it just me, or is the entire premise and execution stolen from Terry Pratchett's 'Lords and Ladies'?
That fucked-up cabin
What kind of phenomenon took place during that The Cabin and the Dolls story? Seriously, I know it's just another Creepypasta ghost story, but that thing has had me preoccupied all day. What was in the cabin? What was up with the dolls? What made Alex disappear and everyone act weird to the protagonist?
The Witch Board
Okay /b/. Who here has massive knowledge of this witch board?
A while back, I might have asked a benevolent soul to cast a curse on someone bounding them to me forever. I thought it was all a joke until I was being haunted like fucking crazy and he hasn't had one boyfriend/girlfriend since then. Don't know if this is possible, /b/.
Advice? Is this possible? Or am I just a fucking nutjob?
inb4 copypasta;troll
I'm neither.
