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Author Topic: Creepypasta/Nosleep  (Read 28960 times)

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #25 on: May 31, 2012, 06:03:06 AM »
"supposed experiences re the cursed video":

"my 15-year old son found and watched this video about two months ago… the effects are real. I came down stairs to a sort of high and fast pitched screaming and my son was rolling around on the ground. Only now have i worked up the courage to search it to find out more. DO NOT WATCH THE VIDEO. my son is fine now. he only got to 50 seconds of the video but he recalls that after about 37seconds of the video… all he saw was black and red. all he heard were voices in his head and all he could think about was… well lets just say all he could think about was not alright"

this however took home the cake:

"I am part of a circle of mystics, trying to uncover the mystery behind this evil video. YouTube sought us out for help after the 153 eye-gouging. The 22 second version of the video shows what we mystics saw under a magical shield, and it was recorded and posted by YouTube. The rest of the original video would only be visible if we lowered protection and endangered ourselves.

The name itself is eclectic in origin. Mordegard sounds Celtic, Glesgorv, Scandinavian, and Mereana, Anglo-Saxon. We believe that a very dark wizard used the deaths in some sort of empowerment ritual, perhaps for some sort of special sight, judging by the eye-gougings. However, rest assured that we have woven a protective web over Youtube, and all the replicas you see are magically filtered.

We are still trying to break down and analyze the original video, but there are tremendous challenges. We had tried many indirect methods...

- aura vision: Just observing the pure energy of the video. This had to be done with a shield, which didn't show us everything. We saw flashes of runic symbols though.
- decomposing the energies into components and observing them in a dispersed form: This we didn't need a shield, but everything was senseless without integration.
- decomposing the video into binary code: This destroyed a lot of Youtube's computers.

We are now working on these methods...

- transmutation: transforming the energies into an inert form and then analyzing it retrosynthetically to deduce its original form
- astral cracking: We have a hunch that we may be able to generate a specific frequency in the astral plane to render the energies inert but still keep them in their original form and available for observation.
- scrying for remnants of the post: Our Seers are searching for the poster.

When we do finally find a way to view the video safely, we will work with YouTube to encode our magical filter onto a computer program and post the video online for all to see!

Have patience! Good things come to those who wait!
Source(s):
Circle of Kayless, an ancient order of mystics and Seers"

wth? wat?! :eek:

Offline marzi

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #26 on: May 31, 2012, 09:18:46 AM »
^lolololol

napanood ko na. yea creepy nga. mga 30 seconds lang. o baka naman kasi ina-anticipate ko na yung pagiging creepy i dunno. san ba nakakakuha nung mystic shield na yan?

ewan. balik na nga tayo sa creepypasta stories.

Mr Muerte, care to share some moooordegard? lol jk pero ok yung shares nyo dito so far. binabasa ko pag nasa ofis eh. wala ako access sa reddit dun.
« Last Edit: May 31, 2012, 09:24:22 AM by marzi »
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Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #27 on: May 31, 2012, 10:48:15 PM »
BTT!

Something doesn't feel right


It’s Sunday night and I’m home alone, so I call up a friend to come over for pizza and a movie. He gets there around 9:30 and we have a few drinks while we’re eating and watching a fairly obscure foreign thriller. The movie ends around midnight or so, we hang out in the living room talking about the movie when we hear one of the side doors of my house close. We look at each other, “are you expecting somebody?” he asks me. “My brother should be coming home, he said he would be late but he wouldn’t use that door.” He gets up and I cautiously follow him down the hall towards the side door. There is nothing unusual so I check the lock on the door. Locked. I look at him “that was weird.” He asks me if I want him to stay until my brother gets home, I said it’s okay I’m tired, just going to get some sleep. I walk him to the front door but not before he helps me check all the windows and doors around the house. I give him a hug goodbye and tell him to text me when he gets home. I make sure the front porch light is on so my brother can see the lock when he gets home, lock the front door and make my way down the hall to my room.

I send a text to my brother asking when he’s expecting to get home, grab my pajamas and walk into the bathroom across the way. While I’m washing my face I hear footsteps coming from the living room, I feel a sense of relief and call out my brother’s name. He doesn’t respond but I can’t hear too well with the water running so I don’t think much of it. As I’m brushing my teeth and looking into the mirror in front of me, I can see the reflection of the open door behind me, I see my brother’s shadow walk past it into his room. I finish cleaning up, turn off the light and walk up to his door. It’s locked. “OK well have a good night!” I shout as I walk into my room, which is directly next to his. I get in bed and check my phone. No new messages, so I put it down and try to get some sleep.

Around 2 in the morning I’m still tossing and turning, I can hear walking around and the sound of light switches flicking. It actually sounds like there is more than one person home, I start thinking maybe my brother brought home a friend. I get up, and check my brother’s room again, still locked. What the f**k is he doing? I walk down the hallway and find one of the living room lights on, I walk over to the front door to find it unlocked. “That f*****g kid.” I walk back into my room, put on some shoes and grab my coat. I walk down the hall to the side door of the backyard, make my way through the dark into the corner of the yard where there are a couple lawn chairs and my ashtray. I light up a smoke and look up at the stars. It really is a nice night, it's not too cold, and I didn’t even need my coat. My eyes are drawn to the living room windows, where the light has been turned on. I don’t remember if I turned it off, I’m feeling tired and confused at this point, I’m sure I turned it off. I see the curtains move, they slowly open to reveal the dark figure of a man staring out, at me. My heart drops, that doesn’t look like my brother. I feel paralyzed, staring back at the man as he closes the curtains, and turns off the light inside. I put out my cigarette and reach into my coat pocket for my phone, I left it in my room.

Suddenly there’s a loud rustling sound from the trees over my head and my cat pops out and runs to my feet. I grab her, never been more relieved to see her. “What the hell are you doing outside so late?” I hold on tight to her as I make my way back towards the house, I’m trembling badly. My brother is a bit of a prankster, maybe he’s just f*****g with me. I can’t seem to rationalize the possibility of this being anything more than a dark prank but something about this just doesn’t feel right. I get back inside, my cat leaps out of my hands and darts down the hall into my room. I follow just as quickly and notice my brother’s room is open. I walk in, turn on the light and discover his bed is made, and it doesn’t look as though he’s been home. I run over to his window and I can’t find his car outside. Panic. Footsteps down the hall. My heart is beating loud enough to make a sound, my ears are red hot, my feet seem to have lost their balance and my body weighs a ton. Slowly, I move towards the door, turn off his light and directly down the hall is a man staring at me. Chills run up and down my spine. Neither of us moves. My brain feels like it’s been turned off, time has stopped existing. I am on ice. I turn my feet towards my room, the figure is still. In one swift motion I turn into my door, slam it behind me and lock it. I run to my bed where my cat is waiting in attack mode. I grab my phone. I have two messages, one from my friend saying he got home safe and the other from my brother saying he’s staying out at his friend’s. Who the hell is in my house?

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #28 on: June 01, 2012, 12:02:25 AM »
Eidetic Memory


Recently, my parents brought up that when I was much younger, I had several night terrors. They talked to a pediatrician and changed my sleep schedule and I never had them again. However, I was rather intrigued since I really don't remember having night terrors. I asked my Mom to tell me what I was like during one of the terrors. She said it was a bit disturbing, as I would have a look of absolute horror on my face and would not respond to anything my parents said. I also would say words, but they were in some sort of babbling language that was unintelligible.

Our minds tend to protect us from experiences or dreams that are often too disturbing for our psyches to handle. Combined with my young age, that's likely why I don't remember night terrors, and why victims of trauma often forget such events. Our minds act as a barrier to horrifying input. It saves us from the terrible things that would rip through our fragile heads. But that got me thinking- what about people who don't forget?

The phenomena known as photographic or eidetic memory is one in which people can remember anything they've seen just by looking at it for a short period of time. It seems like a wonderful ability, especially given how much information we're required to remember for our jobs or school. But, it has the obvious downside of remembering EVERYTHING. There have been tales of people remembering every wrong that has been done to them in vivid detail, making it difficult to make and maintain connections with friends or family. And what about in my case? Would I want to remember those horrible terrors?

I met a man named Mark through a friend, and found out that he worked at a Learning and Memory Center. I asked him about eidetic memories and their downsides, and it just so happened that he used to work with very rare and unusual cases. At first, he didn't seem to want to talk about them, and was really closed-off about his work. After some prodding though, he agreed to meet me at a quiet cafe, and relayed to me his stories.

When Mark started at the CLM, he was asked if he wanted to take on the case of people with eidetic memories who have had near death experiences. Being a fairly religious guy, Mark thought that he would hear wonderful tales of life-after-death and as such readily agreed. However, his expectations were shattered after reading the file on the first recorded case of eidetics in life after death.

A 37-year-old man had been involved in a car accident and was legally dead for 23 seconds on the operating table. After several days of unconsciousness, he awoke as a nurse was checking up on him. Despite his injuries, he tore out both his and the attending nurse's eyes, and tried to push his eyes into her empty bleeding sockets. The doctors ran in as the man began to scream at her, “Do you see them?! Do you see them, too?!”

Despite the horrible account, Mark traveled to different mental institutions, collecting other accounts from eidetics who had near-death experiences. While very few were quite as severe as the first account, they were still unsettling. No single near-death eidetic could be what any psychologist would describe as sane, but very few of them had any psychological disturbances before their near-death experience. They were all fairly well adjusted people until their various experiences.

Several things stayed fairly constant between the patients. Most of them were completely devoid of recognizable language and had to be constantly sedated and restrained, as many of them would attempt to remove their eyes or stab their eardrums. When asked why they would do this (and in the rare moment that they were coherent enough to answer), they would say in anguish that they didn't want to hear or see “them” anymore. When not sedated, they writhed on the ground as if they were experiencing a dehabilitating pain. Despite their self-destruction tendencies, they seemed to have a great fear of death and never injured themselves to the point of possible fatality. Despite all this, Mark still continued in his job until he met the rarest case of them all. After speaking with this patient, he demanded a transfer.

The final patient was a lesser known serial killer. His eidetic memory made him very difficult to apprehend, and very dangerous to his victims. His near-death experience had been after a gunshot wound that was inflicted during his tense capture by police. However, unlike the other patients, this serial killer acted completely calm and lucid. It was as if nothing about him had changed. He did not try to mutilate himself or babble about seeing things. He was still quite insane, but certainly not in the same way as the others.

Mark sat down with him in a guarded and watched room, and asked him the same questions he asked the others. He asked the man if he saw anything and if so, what did he see? Mark told me his answer verbatim and I repeat it here.

“I saw and heard what I always have. The Whisperers. They're inhuman, they are the exact opposite of what we are. We live and breathe, and they do not. Most of you can't hear them, and even the once-dead forget their words. Those that remember though, are changed. They can't handle the truth of death. Not me though...I've always heard them. They tell me that they want more of you. They tell me to bring more of you to them.”

That was the last Mark ever heard from any of the eidetics.

I noticed though, as he told me the story, he began to get more and more nervous. His palms started to sweat and he wrung his hands. After he relayed to me his story, I asked him what was wrong.

He grabbed my hand then, and I could feel him trembling. His words chilled me.

“The reason I started with that project is because I have an eidetic memory...”

Offline dudeofdude

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #29 on: June 01, 2012, 12:14:15 AM »
para effective, suspend your disbelief, read as if the stories are real. hahahaha.
hanggang ngayon hindi ko parin alam ang tunog ng ipis


Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #30 on: June 01, 2012, 01:05:37 AM »
para effective, suspend your disbelief, read as if the stories are real. hahahaha.

"Remember, everything is true on NoSleep."

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #31 on: June 01, 2012, 01:52:43 AM »
The Catcher in the Rye

As my nightly ritual, i listen to music before i go to bed, and well i listen to a playlist full of metal songs that for some reason get me sleepy. Then before i know it i blank out and its around three o'clock in the morning. I see the next song and it, well, sort of threw me off, i had a few iron maiden songs on the playlist, and there was one that i didn't recognize. And i figured the song that came up was one that i didn't notice, so i brushed it off. The song was called "The Catcher in the Rye-Iron Maiden" like the book by J.D. Salinger. Then i saw that the song was only 33 seconds long and i was more concerned but i just listened to it anyways. The song started off as silent, and then a voice of a small girl began to sing very innocently to absolutely no music and the words that come out are "if a body catch a body comin' through the rye" And it repeated once more with the last phrase being "just look me in the eye, because im the catcher of the rye" and when Rye is said the voice of the little girls distorts and the sound of someone being hit with a blunt object is heard and i jump up from the sound while in my bed. Then the sound of something being dragged is heard as the background sounds like a forest setting with an owl hooting in the distance. And then before the 33 second mark hits all i hear is a very deep and almost raspy voice saying goodbye. Then the song stops and the next song from the playlist goes on. Already frightened enough i look for the song again and it is no where to be found, as if it never was there. After that i began to hear a raspy moan, and throughout the night i felt like as if i was not alone. That night was sleepless.

The next day I wanted to look up this song, and after searching on google there was no song by Iron Maiden called "catcher in the rye". My heart dropped a little bit from that moment and afterwards i shook it off. Then fast forward to friday, in my english class we are reading the book The Catcher in the Rye and at first i just thought the "song" and the book had no connection. Then on friday we were reading like a typical 11th grade class would, and then i read that exact phrase that was burned into my mind as Holden Caufield, the protagonist of the story hears a young boy singing that phrase "if a body catch a body comin' through the rye" and after that i just sorta froze in class and my anxiety began to take over. After calming down and breathing i just began to wonder to this day, why was the song connected to the book in some way? and What was the overall purpose of it all? Even as im here writing this story, i still think that i'm hearing that raspy moan..

Offline sem

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #32 on: June 01, 2012, 03:51:21 AM »
Time killed. thanks for posting. more more :) Gas! joke, More Motor oil! More Portait... Ah wait. I need to run an errand.. and its happening again.. wahaha.. creepyness overload.

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #33 on: June 01, 2012, 04:25:40 AM »
The Child With No Eyes


I lied awake one night not being able to sleep. All i could do is stare at ceiling and breathe. I heard a noise coming from outside my window, but i didn't wanna look. I keep hearing the noise. It keep getting louder, and louder, and louder. It annoyed me so much that i decided to go up to my window and check it out.

As i looked out the window i didn't see anything. But after a second i could see a figure appearing in the dark. I was scared, but i couldn't look away. It moved closer to my window and i could make out that it was a small child, i believe it was a boy about 8 or 9. He was caucasian and he had black hair and he about 4'4. The weirdest thing about him though, wasn't his tattered clothes or his bloody hands. But it was that he had no eyes. I finally had control of my body. I jumped back onto the floor and closed my eyes praying. When i opened them he was gone.

A week later I was drying off in my bathroom after a shower when i saw something in the corner of the mirror. It looked like a dark figure. As i looked closer i made out that it was the child with no eyes. I jumped backwards and fell into the tub. Then the lights went out. I was scared but i didn't scream or move. I just sat there closing my eyes tightly. When the lights came back on I looked at the mirror and there was writing on it. It said, "You are gonna 'SEE' my pain" . I quickly got out of the tub and ran to my room.

That night I couldn't go to sleep. I lied there jumping to every single noise. Finally I fell asleep, But not for long. I had a dream that i was in a square room with no exit. And in the corner of the room was a child in a straight jacket. "What is wrong with you?" I dared to ask. The child turned around and looked at me. "You killed me!" He yelled at me. I remember a memory from my childhood of being at a funeral. My mom always told me it was my friend who died of 'unforchanet cause'. The child began to get up. I walked backwards into a wall. "Time to feel my pain." The child said smirking and walking towards me. I tried to wake up, but i just couldn't. He got closer and closer, but i still couldn't wake up. I finally ran up to the child and hit him as hard as i could. He fell to the ground and a piece of him disappeared. I keep hitting him as hard as a could and he just disintegrated.

I woke up in a puddle of sweat. I could feel relief around me. I knew that the child was gone. But i felt a twitching in my eye. I felt my vision go blurry. After about 20 seconds the room went white and i couldn't see a thing. I yelled for my mom. When she got there she screamed. I asked "What?!?" She just stood there quietly. She then said slowly. "You......H-h-have...no eyes...."

Offline marzi

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #34 on: June 05, 2012, 10:55:46 PM »
short but scary



In The Kitchen

A young girl is playing in her bedroom when she hears her mother call to her from the kitchen, so she runs downstairs to meet her mother.

As she's running through the hallway, the door to the cupboard under the stairs opens, and a hand reaches out and pulls her in. It's her mother. She whispers to her child, "Don't go into the kitchen. I heard it too."
I turn myself into a monster to fight against the monsters of the world.

Earth Crisis - Nemesis

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #35 on: June 05, 2012, 11:36:41 PM »
short but scary



In The Kitchen

A young girl is playing in her bedroom when she hears her mother call to her from the kitchen, so she runs downstairs to meet her mother.

As she's running through the hallway, the door to the cupboard under the stairs opens, and a hand reaches out and pulls her in. It's her mother. She whispers to her child, "Don't go into the kitchen. I heard it too."

nice! btw, try staring at the pic as well. after a while, your imagination would play tricks on you. >:D

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #36 on: June 05, 2012, 11:41:05 PM »
Heels

This happened only a few months ago. I was staying at my friends new apartment for the night. Her roommates were both gone, so we had the place to ourselves. We'd just gotten back from a fancy dinner and had gone upstairs to change into comfortable clothes. I was talking to her in her room when I decided to go use the downstairs bathroom.

As I'm walking down the stairs, I hear the clicking of high heels plod down the stairs in front of me. I follow the noise, really confused, thinking someones home, and peek around the corner. A strange, white figure passes through the living room and into the front hall... I stand there, frozen and dazed. Did I just see a woman, in a white dress, walking through the house? Did I really just hear her shoes hitting the wide-planked floors?

Looking down at my own feet, I see I'm in socks. I call up the stairs to my friend, "You're sure you're roommates are gone for the night, right?"

She hollers down an agreement, everyone's gone till Monday. I can hear her throwing her shoes into her closet like she always does... I'm practically panting in fear.

I book it to the bathroom which is through the kitchen... but freeze in my tracks. The microwave door is wide open and it's creepy yellow light spills across the floor. I slam it shut and go to the bathroom, flicking the lights on with speed. I stand there, breathing heavy, my heart racing.

When I'm done calming down and washing my hands, I open the door slowly. My heart leaps into my throat. The microwave is open again, an eerie glow cast across the dark kitchen. I slam it shut once more. Then I test it's ability to stay shut. It's one of those old 70's microwaves. All brown, big, and clunky... but solid as a brick. The door is difficult enough to open on it's own, never mind miraculously while I'm using the bathroom. I yank on it, I pull on the large handle, but it doesn't budge unless I hold down the button and pull at the same time. I stare at it for a while... wishing that it would open so I could believe it was just a s****y microwave door. It doesn't. The kitchen is dark as I make my way towards the stairs again.

I don't tell my friend what happened. That night I slept in the same room I saw the white lady walk through. My little blue blow-up bed stuffed in a corner... my whole body wrapped up in blankets. I swear I heard walking all through the house that night. The whole place felt heavy. All I could think of was that if I looked over the blankets, I'd see her standing there... the clacking of her heels on the pine as she'd walk toward me... I couldn't sleep.

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #37 on: June 05, 2012, 11:46:56 PM »
The Thing On The TV

When I was about thirteen, I stayed at my uncle's house over the summer. I didn't know it, but my parents were getting divorced and they wanted me to have a fun summer without dealing with the stress of moving. I loved my uncle's place, so I was thrilled to find out that I would get to stay there all summer.

My uncle's house was not very pretty, a big old farmhouse with peeling yellow paint, but the farm was amazing. I was from the city, and my house barely had a yard, much less twenty acres of fields and forest, and a creek that ran through it all. At first, my favorite thing to do was to simply run through those fields, as hard as I could, until I was so hot and exhausted I thought I might pass out, then jump into the cool waters of the forest-shaded creek.

In the evenings, my uncle would go out. He was divorced, and preferred to spend a few hours across the county line at his favorite watering hole. Neither of us felt unsafe about me staying alone. It was a small community of neighbors, and there were quite a few loaded guns around the old farmhouse. As dusk fell on those long summer days, I would climb into my uncle's beat-up old recliner, and watch his old TV until I fell asleep.

Late one evening, I started having problems keeping the TV tuned to the right station. I crouched in front of it, slowly turning the fine-tuning ring. The TV was built into a huge wooden cabinet, but had a relatively small screen. This was long before the days of digital tuning, so picking up broadcasts from far away was often an exercise of patience and of amateur radio skills. I was desperate to see an old re-run of 'Lost in Space', so I kept fiddling with the tuning dials in the hopes of picking up audio, and more video than a fuzzy, rolling outline. In a fit of frustration, I spun the knob far to the left, and stomped off to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

While I was making my sandwich, I heard a sound from the living room that made me pause. There is a sound that a person makes in a room, an absence of absence, rather than any real noise. I spun around, butter knife clutched tightly in my hand. There was nothing there. I cautiously walked back into the living room, where the TV sat showing snow and hissing quietly. Nobody. Weird. I went back to the kitchen and finished my sandwich. As I opened the refrigerator for a can of soda, I heard another sound. "Aaaahhh," it sighed.

I was alone in the house, but I refused to be a chicken. I thought the TV must have finally started to pick up some channel. "Oh, yeah," I said, as I remembered. Old TV's, like my uncle's, could sometimes receive radio stations, or even shortwave. My uncle showed me that trick last year. "Maybe that's what it is." I took my sandwich and cola back into the living room, and put them on top of the TV. As I reached for the tuning knob, I saw something on the screen. I blinked, and moved back away from the screen.

The white and black dots of electronic snow danced on the screen, accompanied by a low whispering hiss. I stared at the screen for a second, two, three. Nothing. I laughed. "Now you're seeing stuff. And talking to yourself." I looked away for a moment, and something caught my eye. I looked back at the screen. There, in the bright swirl of dots, was a shape. I don't know if the shape had been there all along, or if it had simply taken my mind a few moments to see it, like those dot-pictures at the mall. I stared, eyes riveted  to the screen, as an image resolved. In the static, I began to see the sweep of a brow, the slope of a nose, the curve of a mouth and chin. The screen rolled once, black bars slipping down, and the static faded away.

I was looking at the face of a girl, dark eyes, black hair curly and cropped at the shoulders. Her face briefly filled the screen, and then grew smaller as she stepped away. I realized with a shock that I was looking at my uncle's living room, at my uncle's chair. I saw myself on the screen, and I saw the girl walk towards me. I looked around wildly, but there was nobody in the room. I looked back at the TV. She was standing right next to me. She looked directly at the screen. I watched, on the TV, as she took my hand.  My hand began to burn with cold, and I saw her smile the most terrible smile.

"I've been waiting for you," she said.

I ran, as fast as I could, through the nearest doorway, into my uncle's bedroom. I slammed the door and flipped on the lights, then jumped onto his bed. I sat there, on his bed, watching the occasional headlights splash through the large windows, until he came home. I tried to tell him what I saw, but he wouldn't listen to any of it. He was mostly drunk and just wanted to go to bed. The next morning, he had me nearly convinced it was just a dream; that perhaps I had fallen asleep in his chair, and had a nightmare.

I went home the next weekend, to a house that I'd never seen before, and to a father who had moved to a different town. I mostly forgot about the thing I saw on my uncle's TV. I thought about it when I overheard my mother and my aunt talking in hushed tones about a terrible thing that happened at my uncle's place -- a tenant family had died, in bad circumstance.  I thought about it more recently when my mother told me the house had burned down after a car came off the curve and crashed into the side of the place.

I think about that summer a lot now. We don't have analog TVs any more, and I never listen to the radio, so I never hear static. But sometimes, in the white noise of a thunderstorm, or even in the stillness of my own room at night, I hear her voice.

"I'm still waiting."

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #38 on: June 05, 2012, 11:49:47 PM »
Family on Fire

When I was little I remember sitting at my grandpa's old house watching T.V. I can't remember the exact date or the exact age I was, but I remember I was watching dragon tales, my favorite show at the time. My grandpa was in the other room drinking and smoking. In the middle of my show, the channel changed. I was confused. It looked interesting though so I sat down and watched. The show was displaying a family of three sitting in a dark room watching a small television. The camera panned over their faces. They looked happy. Then something happened with their eyes, they went black and became substantially larger. Being 4 or 5 at the time I couldn't quite stomach horror films. So I tried to change the channel. But it wouldn't change. I kept pressing the channel button, but it stayed on the creepy family. Then the three people on the screen lit on fire. Their bodies scorching right in front of my eyes. I could see their skin melting off of their skin. Their mouths were opening wide, they looked like the scream face. I tried turning the power button, but the T.V. stayed on. I didn't understand why the T.V. had to break now of all times. The bodies eventually stopped burning. They were sitting upright on their leather couch. Burnt. I was watching them sit there, dead. I felt like there might've been something I could've done to save them. Then the T.V. turned back to dragon tales. I turned it off.

I went in grandpa's backyard, trying to forget what I just saw. I was looking for four leaf clovers. Grandpa used to tell me all kinds of fairy tales about them. So I was always looking for them. After about an hour or so I gave up. I sat up in a tree. I could see out forever. It felt good. I looked up over the neighbor's fence even though I know I was told not to. I saw a small shed. The shed had windows, I got lower on the tree so I could make out what was in the window. It looked like three people sitting there. There was a white flash over their faces, almost like a T.V. Then I got a little closer. What I saw I couldn't look at for more than three seconds. It was the burnt family. They were making the scream face. Their eyes were practically impossible to notice. Their flesh was either not there or brutally peeling away. I fell off the tree and hid behind the fence until I had convinced myself that I was dreaming. I wasn't. I wish I was dreaming.

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #39 on: June 06, 2012, 12:04:27 AM »
Alone...Right?

This weekend I was completely alone, everyone was out of the house and my mother trusted me enough to not burn down the house (but i think she still slightly relied upon the interns here who came for morning and nightly chores...). I woke up on Saturday and being me, immediately logged into Reddit. I checked out a few posts, then went downstairs and grabbed a bowl of cereal.

The dogs were quiet... which was very odd but I didn't pay attention to it at the time. They're always barking and yapping at random cats moving about the yard. (I live on a farm with 103 horses, 8 dogs, 40 cattle, 50 cats, and 7 donkeys, quiet is rare.) Soon enough, I started watching The Amazing Atheist. Behind me, I heard my door open and close. I whipped around and looked behind me. Nobody there, I yelled "Hello?" like any girl in a horror movie. No answer. I scolded myself for that, who did I expect? The boogyman? Maybe Nosleep was getting to me, i remember thinking.

I forgot about it within about 10 minutes. So I started talking to friends on facebook, the usual chatter that you'd expect about summer. When I got up to get a glass of water, the guitars started strumming. I froze. The strumming sped up and I cautiously turned the corner into the living room where they were kept. The guitars looked untouched, and undisturbed. I tried to laugh it off as hearing things. For the next hour I felt uneasy.

My mother called me, and I was relieved, I started walking to my room but I had my foot on the first step when my brother's prized baseball came rolling down the steps... it was in a case, in his wardrobe in his room... And he hasn't been here for a week. I tried my best to make myself believe that my sister, Katie, had been playing with it... but I couldn't believe it. Nosleep has taught me to try and rationalize out first, then believe.

About 10ish, I made myself supper, watched a movie, then went to take a shower. As i was stepping in, I felt this unbearable feeling of being watched, and subconsciously pulled my towel tighter around myself. Yes, I keep the towel on until I am in the shower and the windows are fogged since we still don't have blinds in the bathroom. I did my routine, and was halfway through the Proactive facewash treatment when... In the mirror i saw someone. I turned, but of course there wasn't anyone there. I quickly dried my face and left. After a few hours of Alesana and talking to friend, I passed out.

The next morning, I woke up to find a slice on my leg from my knee to my ankle. Red and puffy, it screamed in protest when I brushed it against the mattress. I hobbled to the bathroom, and let my dogs out on the way. I came out, and I immediately heard this whispering and giggling. Stupidly, I called out "hello?" and the sounds stopped. Being easily freaked, I wrapped up my leg, and grabbed my laptop. F7u12 is where I was for awhile, but decided to come here.

At around noon, I heard this ear splitting scream, my hands flew up to cover my ears and I curled into the fetal position. I remember screaming "Stop it!" Silence. The dogs were barking and whimpering, and I was in hysterics, so I asked my mom if someone could come home, she said I could go do chores instead. So I went across the road to check water, and was greeted by this ticking sound, like the old bike my sister rides. I sped up the pace and came back home. I strummed my guitar, did a few scales, retuned, but it didn't help me relax. I went back on Facebook to see if anyone was willing to come over, or at least talk to me... before someone blew behind my ear. I flipped my laptop and it crashed to the ground, then I started crying.

For the remainder of the evening, I sat in the living room with 3 white candles, my dogs, and a movie playing at full blast. I may be paranoid... but when I woke up this morning there was a note beside me saying, "Sweet dreams"... Nobody came in until noon today, and everyone denies being home last night.

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #40 on: June 06, 2012, 07:13:18 AM »
The Happy Lady


Sometimes when I see pill bottles, I think of my mother.

I was given to the care of my mother's friend when I was 5 years old. I don't remember much of my mother, only that her breath smelled of stale cigarettes and morning rot and her hair would have been blonde if it wasn't in thick, corded knots that turned it a dull brown.

I also remember one story she told me, of the happy lady. She'd tell me that if I stayed outside alone after dark in the woods that surrounded our house, she would find me. I don't remember much of what she'd do after she found me, but I remember it scaring me enough that I would run inside the second it would get dark.

My mother never stayed out late, either. Sometimes if she wasn't back before nightfall, she'd wait until the next morning to come home. I remember never sleeping on those nights, afraid that the happy lady was smiling at me, unseen, through my curtains.

The last thing I remember in that house in the woods was the night when my mother disappeared. I remember her thin-lipped mouth as she promised to be home more often and that she wouldn't do bad things anymore, and that she promised to be home early that night. She ran out the door, eager to get to where ever it was she went when she left.

I sat on our sunken couch and waited. Hours passed, and I got hungry, but I waited, because mother promised. The window in front of me was my only indication of time; the sun started to set before I started to cry.

I got hysterical when it became dark outside. I remember my chest heaving from the screams I let out, even when my tears were dried up. I remember my throat hurt, and I had a coppery taste in my mouth.

Of course, when I heard the back door open, I stopped crying immediately. 'Mom's home!' I thought. But something kept me rooted to the spot. It was that dread that you feel when something you think is, isn't. I had never experienced it before, until that night. I remember that the house got really cold, even though it was a humid summer night, and I wet myself. I was trembling.

No one ever came through the back door.

The sounds of whatever it was moving from the back door through the kitchen weren't of footsteps. It was more like 'swish, clunk, swish, clunk' as if someone were dragging their leg behind them, like my uncle did after a gator almost bit it completely off. As it moved from the kitchen to behind where I was sitting, I was able to hear it's breath, rattly like a pick in a guitar, and wheezy. It smelled like swamp water and something sickly sweet. My eyes were wide and locked on the fireplace as the thing came up behind me, it's breath ruffling my hair with its almost tangible stench.

I heard a faint smacking sound, the sound of wet cheeks being pulled back from teeth in a smile. I shut my eyes, and everything went dark.

When the police found me three days later, I was three miles into the swamp, my clothes torn to shreds and the corners of my mouth broken and dry, as if I had been smiling too wide. It was chalked down to sleep walking.

My mother's body was found a month later, in advanced stages of decay in a run down shack about four miles into the swamp. It was chalked down to meth.

It's been almost 20 years since that night, and I still don't know what really happened, who it was that came into our home and dragged me three miles into swamp and left me there. All I know is that when I see a thin, gaunt woman with long fingers and a smile that's too wide, I don't sleep for a while.

Offline ierofan

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #41 on: June 06, 2012, 09:27:36 PM »
ALL ABOARD THE NOPETRAIN TO GTFOVILLE...
████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████

[This signature has been blocked in accordance to RA No. 10175]

Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #42 on: June 06, 2012, 09:55:23 PM »
ALL ABOARD THE NOPETRAIN TO GTFOVILLE...

NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE....

Offline DiMarzSiao™

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #43 on: June 07, 2012, 11:40:03 AM »
short but scary



In The Kitchen

A young girl is playing in her bedroom when she hears her mother call to her from the kitchen, so she runs downstairs to meet her mother.

As she's running through the hallway, the door to the cupboard under the stairs opens, and a hand reaches out and pulls her in. It's her mother. She whispers to her child, "Don't go into the kitchen. I heard it too."

langya.., panalo ito!

OT: aba't ibinalik mo ata ang avatar mo...  :-D

← ʍɐʎıɥ

Offline Santo Muerte

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #44 on: June 08, 2012, 02:04:00 AM »
Notes

All this [gooey brown stuff] started when I found that little note.

On a square piece of paper I found at the bottom of a box I was moving out of my basement, it read, “HELLO? PLEASE RESPOND”. I had no idea how long the paper had been there, those boxes had sat in my basement since I moved in. I ignored it until the next morning, when I opened my coffee maker to throw out the grounds, and inside was a sopping wet piece of paper that read “PLEASE RESPOND! PLEASE HELP”. I figured it must have been put inside my coffee maker by whoever was pulling this pointless prank, because it wasn’t there when I put my coffee grounds in.

I found more notes, under my mousepad, inside my computer tower while I was putting in some new RAM, between the layers of tissue of my toilet paper roll, under my DVD player’s disc tray. Places that no one would ever look, places you’d never think of putting a note, places you knew no one would ever look and it would be foolish to put a note, because who knew when they would see it?

But it kept happening, and they all said the same thing every time, begging me to respond and help them. Being the retard I am, one day I just got fed up when I found one inside a cup in my dishwasher (right after I had run it – the paper was dry) I wrote on the back of it “HELLO. I’M RESPONDING. PLEASE EXPLAIN YOUR SITUATION!” and slid it under a crack in my bath-fitted tub.



No sooner had I left my bathroom did I find another piece of paper, floating on the surface tension on the surface of my glass of sprite I had in the living room.

I carefully picked it out of my drink, it read “THANK YOU.” and in larger letters, “I’M TRAPPED”.

I waved it around to dry it off a bit, and wrote on the back of it again, “where are you trapped? how are you sending me notes?” and, not creative enough to think of where to put it, I just threw it behind my couch. I waited and looked, but I didn’t see any other notes for the rest of that day.

The next day I checked my mail, inside of some spam letter was the next note, “IN THE SECOND DIMENSION. BELOW YOU”. I wasted no time in responding “whoever you are, this prank is retarded. give it a rest” and threw it outside, the wind blew it away.

The next note I got was still in obnoxious capital letters, though it was much longer than before and the last sentence seemed to have been squeezed into the remaining space. I think it was a passage from some encyclopedia or textbook. “The first dimension is a defined point in space. The second dimension (this was underlined) is anything that exists with height and width, while the third adds on length. The fourth includes time, the and the fifth is the past: time that has already occurred and is solidified in timespace.” Everything beyond that was too squished in to read. I rolled my eyes and responded again, “How can you read this if you’re in the second dimension? How can you even exist??” I slipped this note into the space in my toaster between the element and the metal casing.

My reply came when I brushed it out of my hair the next morning before I took a shower. “WRITING IS 2D. VISION IS 2D- TWO 2D IMAGES SUPERIMPOSED.”

That didn’t really get to the point of how I was supposed to “rescue” this person, which I defined in my next note that I flushed down my toilet.

“MAKE ME 3D” was all that was on the new slip of paper I found inside of a chocolate bar I unwrapped, later on. How the idiot was putting these inside sealed products was beyond me but at this point I decided to play along, maybe it was some kind of TV show thing.

“How?” was all I wrote for my reply. I remember exactly where I put it, because it was the last thing I wrote for a long time. I put it in a crack between my length mirror, and it’s wooden backing. As soon as I let go it slid out of sight and I didn’t see any papers again for a year and a half.

Getting dressed one morning for work, I went into my room and adjusted my tie and shirt in my mirror, the same one, only it was now on the opposite side of my room. Looking into it, I noticed a square behind me on the wall. Turning around, there was none. In the instant before I turned around again I thought it must have fallen off, but in the mirror it was still there, still suck to the wall. I touched my mirror thinking maybe it was some sort of warping or optical illusion, but it wasn’t.

I lifted my heavy mirror up from the ground and slowly walked backwards with it, nearing myself to the opposite wall on which the paper was stuck. The closer I got, the clearer the message on it became, until I stopped, sandwiched between the heavy mirror and the wall, looking at the paper immediately over my shoulder: “MAKE YOU 2D” it said.

I moved the [strawberry] out of that house as soon as I could. After bunking at my girlfriend’s for a while, I got the [strawberry] rid of the mirror, the toaster, everything. My heart still skips a beat when I see any perfectly square piece of paper, sitting on the floor, all alone. I still live in fear of some day I’ll open up a book or look in the inner lining of a jacket, and a piece of paper will flop out.

I check all my things, now. Constantly. I also don’t drink coffee anymore.


Offline Santo Muerte

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #45 on: June 08, 2012, 02:12:48 AM »
An Apple A Day Keeps The Doctor Away

Have you ever heard the expression “an apple a day keeps the Doctor away?” Most assume, with no reason to think otherwise, that it is simply an easy-to-remember rhyme that stresses the importance of eating healthily to young children. But the saying did not originate as a harmless reminder. It was born in a frontier town in the early years of the gold rush, where food was scarce and money even scarcer.

One August, when a bad drought had struck the region, a series of bloody killings swept through the town. Every night, a single house would be broken into, and anyone who saw the invader would be swiftly, brutally slain. Nothing was ever stolen, save for a few scraps of food.

After two weeks of this, the local grocer set out a few apples and a glass of milk in the town square overnight. He then hid in the tower of the church, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone who came by.

Fighting fatigue, the grocer waited for any sign of life below. Just after midnight, he was rewarded by a chilling sight; a man, carrying a black bag stuffed with dully shining metal tools and covered from head to foot in cloth bandages, staggered into view. He paused at the sight of the apples and milk, then whipped his head around, as if looking for the one who dared to patronize him. Seized with fear, the grocer ducked out of sight, staying hidden ’til sunrise.

The strange man had only taken one of the apples, and didn’t even touch the glass of milk. No houses were broken into, and no one was killed. For decades, the town continued to place out an apple or two every night, even long after a single apple stopped dissapearing.


Offline Santo Muerte

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #46 on: June 08, 2012, 02:16:49 AM »
A Mother's Love

One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.

The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn’t stay with the doubt on his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as on her arms. They then decide to stop and see if they could be of any help.

The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a new born baby, were still inside the car which was in a deep ditch. She told them that the husband was already dead but that her baby seemed to still be alive.

The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside the their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn’t pay any importance to it and took out the baby quickly and got up to take the baby to it’s mother. When he got up, he didn’t see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman followed him back to the crashed car.

When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom was unmistakeably the woman who had flagged them down.


Offline Santo Muerte

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #47 on: June 08, 2012, 02:21:13 AM »
The Thing That Stalks The Fields

It was a few weeks ago that the hay bales started creeping slowly away from the house. Every morning when I woke up, each had moved a few hundred feet from where it was before. I assumed it was pranksters with nothing better to do, and I so I ignored it. Within a few days, though, the bales began to approach the boundaries of the farm. I was tired of the whole game by then, and decided to move them back. It took a tedious hour to bring them all from where they were to over near the house again, and by the time I was done I was ready to snap the neck of whatever little pissant was deciding to screw with me.

The next morning, I found each and every one of my horses messily decapitated. The smell was what woke me up. Each one was slumped over against the side of its stall. There were no signs of the heads. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess and burying the remains. It was only when I was done that I noticed the bales of hay had all returned to their positions from the day before, scattered far out into the fields. This time I left them where they were.

That night I sat on my porch with my shotgun in hand and a pot of coffee on the table beside me. I sat for hours, straining my eyes into the fields to catch a glimpse of who was moving my hay bales. Finally, I was beginning to nod off. I would have, but just as my eyes began to close I heard a clamor and a rustling of trees from the nearby woods. I leaned forward, my heart racing with excitement; I was going to catch the bastard. I fumbled with my gun and fidgeted in my seat, waiting anxiously for whoever it was to get close enough to ambush. It was only when the thing got close enough for me to make out its silhouette in the dark that I was frozen still. The thing that crept into my fields from the nearby woods didn’t seem to notice me sitting there. It stalked, hunched and deliberate, through the field with the posture of a tiptoeing thief. If not for the fact that it must have towered to over ten feet tall even in its crouched position, it might have seemed almost frail. The thinness of its arms and legs and the emaciated, caved-in quality of its chest reminded me of a starving animal. Still, this thing was undeniably strong, and I watched it hoist each bale up into its arms with ease, and set it down carefully a while away, taking only a few strides to cover the distance. I watched it work, moving each bale thoughtfully. Every once in a while it would straighten up to look around at the other bales’ positions in the field, before adjusting the one it was working on ever so slightly.

Before it left, it looked towards the house. I felt its eyes sweep over me in the dark, but whether it saw me or not I couldn’t tell. Then, it turned silently and crept back the way it came, disappearing into the dark of the woods. It took me an hour before I had the courage to move at all. I went inside after a while, but didn’t sleep that night. It was only when the sun rose that I dared step off my porch into the fields. The hay bales were where it left them. Strangely, it didn’t move them as far as it had in the previous days. They were approaching something invisible in the fields, and as I looked at them I realized that they seemed to be marking some line. Indeed, as I walked around the house, I saw the distinct circle that they formed with me at the center. At first I thought the bales were just being haphazardly moved away from the house, but now I could see that they were instead being moved towards some boundary. The thing was sending me a message. I slept uneasily that night, and only because I was exhausted.

The next morning the bales hadn’t moved at all. They didn’t move at all for the rest of that week, in fact. They were finally where the thing wanted them. I made myself sick trying to interpret them. Why would this thing expend so much energy moving my hay bales, and threaten me with such violence should I try to interfere? Killing my horses was just that – a threat. An intelligent threat, at that. It knew what would scare me, and it knew that I would understand the implications.

The sound of an automobile working its way along the road to my farm one morning gave me a little rush of excitement. I’d been planning to abandon the farm since I saw the thing, but I couldn’t hope to leave on foot without risking it treating me like it treated my horses. But, if I could get in the car with whoever was coming my way, I might be able to escape before it could stop me. I didn’t know or care who it was. I decided that the moment they stopped the car, I would jump in the passenger’s seat and tell them to get the hell out of here. I didn’t get the chance.

The car worked its way slowly along the road, trundling across the uneven ground. I urged it silently to hurry. It was when it passed between the two bales placed on either side of the road that I began to hear a booming clatter from the woods. The thing burst suddenly from between the trees, sprinting on all four of its terrible, gangly limbs towards the car. Within a few seconds it was there, pouncing on the automobile like a predatory cat. Within moments it was picking and peeling the vehicle’s steel frame apart, working to get at the driver. The man, whoever he was, screamed all the while and I could hear him even over the crunching of metal and the shattering of glass. It was only when the thing crushed him carelessly in its hand that the screaming stopped. It tossed him away, and straightened up to look at me once again. In the sunlight, I could see the inhumanity of it. It was composed entirely of something awful and alive which was lashed together in a messy semblance of a human form. Whatever it was made of looked so polished and hard, that if it weren’t for the minute writhing of the stuff, I’d think it was made of granite.

The thing retreated back into the woods, and I was left to my shock. My eyes wandered to where the car sat, the engine still sputtering, between two of the hay bales. Suddenly, I understood. The message was clear. I am this thing’s captive, and I am not allowed visitors. Nothing may cross the borders it has set. I’m trapped here, by the thing that stalks the fields, and it demands nothing except that I never leave. Still, I don’t know if I can handle being that thing’s canary. I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days since I saw it crush that man’s chest, and silence him before he could finish his scream. If I crossed the hay bale border, it’d probably do the same. It’d smash my skull before I could put my hands up to protect myself. It’d go and find a new pet, and probably keep looking until it found someone who could stand knowing that it was waiting just outside, watching it at all hours with its shiny, insect eyes.

I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days, and I might just make a run for it.


Offline Santo Muerte

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #48 on: June 08, 2012, 02:28:51 AM »
Her Protection

In every major town and city, there is a house of which no official record exists, and whose windows have been boarded up for longer than anyone around can remember. The previous occupants, if there ever were any, are untraceable, and no organisation or individual will ever lay claim to the plot on which it stands.

Nevertheless, when you break in–always through a back, ground-floor window; you must never touch the outer doors–you will see amongst the dust the signs of inhabitants long gone. A flattened cardboard box, an overturned child’s cot, balding patches on the carpet where the pile has been worn away. Invariably there will be an orphaned double mattress in the master bedroom. What you will not see, however, are rats and cockroaches, or animal waste. Vermin know better than to come here.

These are Her sacred spaces.

The first time you visit, bring only what you need to help you enter the house. Then locate the master bedroom, stand in the centre, and draw an unbroken circle in the dust around your feet. Make it about a metre in diameter to be safe.

Face the doorway and say aloud; “I wish to make a sacrifice. Will you welcome the offering?”

Then leave as quickly as possible. You must not return until night has next fallen.

This time, bring nails, a hammer, an empty litre bottle, a sharp, sturdy knife, and a torch. Enter the same way you did last time. Remember the mattress in the master bedroom? Someone will be sleeping there. Don’t worry about waking them up; She has taken care of that for you. Turn the sleeper over onto their back and cut their jugular vein, making sure to collect as much blood as you can.

You will need to pour a little of the blood onto the floor of every room, including this one, but make sure you have some left at the end. When you’ve finished, leave by the same way you entered, and close up the boards again. (This is what the hammer and nails are for.) Walk home. Speak to nobody on your way. When you get there, tip some of the remaining blood into your right hand and smear it over your door handle before you enter. Then go to bed.

If there is any blood left, you must pour the rest of it onto any pavement in the city, but do not allow it to be poured down a drain. The knife you must never use again, and should bury. Do not trouble yourself with covering your tracks. When you next leave your house, the blood on your door will be gone, and the murder you have committed will have no repurcussions. From the moment you leave Her temple, DNA evidence will never again implicate you; law enforcement will creep around your footsteps without touching them. On cameras, your face will show up a blur.

You are under Her protection now.

Just make sure you get the right house.


Offline Riff_6603

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Re: Creepypasta/Nosleep
« Reply #49 on: June 08, 2012, 04:23:26 AM »
Just make sure you get the right house.

very nice! the flow is reminiscent of "The Gallery of Henri Beauchamp". well picked!