forbidden-creepypasta

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Progress

He thought that the scientists had been born without compassion or mercy, and that had been a requirement in their field to achieve any real progress. Certainly the quest for new heights in science, medicine and other such fields had contributed to that chilling lack of qualities that many considered to be the essential mark of humanity. They could only go so far with predictions and tests, and only a little further still with animal experiences. They needed him, and he knew it.

Sometimes he could imagine them laughing, but it was a mechanical laugh, as if they couldn’t even appreciate the result of their lengthy work. That scared him – that they made progress for progress’s sake, and not for any personal desire or even any faint notions of propelling humanity to new levels of perfection.

He remembered to blink.

Soon they would come in their white coats and dead stares, with their syringes and tablets and charts. Although they had restrained him well, he knew that their strongmen would come also, if only to enforce obedience. He had no fear of physical pain and only dim thoughts of rebellion. How could he? Before and during the experiments they had tortured him psychologically, physically and mentally, and although they were cruel they knew his limits well - perhaps they knew because of their cruelty - and they had stopped short of breaking him entirely. Their aim, however, had been achieved – they had robbed him of hope through their systematic abuse.

He remembered to swallow.

Those thoughts of rebellion were disturbingly born from principle, as if the only reason for rebelling should be because it was his duty, or it was expected of him, and not because he genuinely objected to their treatment of him. That would have scared him deeply, but with each passing day he became more and more resigned to his fate, as those dim thoughts faded. Hope had left him – willpower followed it. He did not wish or hope to die, but he knew he would.

He was becoming less than human, and he screamed as he realised that it made him more like the scientists.

Even the scream lacked any will.

He remembered to breathe. They would not let him asphyxiate in any case.

The scream drew him, but they did not hurry. Perhaps the scientists had finally converted to machines – they were not human to begin with, and it would not have been difficult. He knew that he was not the only experiment in this place. One by one they entered his room, five in total including the strongman. They surrounded his table, those machines walking.

He blinked again. Their drug had torn the skill from him and relearning it was a struggle.

One carried a syringe. He recognised none of them, and in a rare flash of understanding he realised he hadn’t seen any of them before. Indeed, had he ever seen the same one twice? He couldn’t remember, but he didn’t think the drug affected his memory. The detail was simply not important – a familiarity with any of them disgusted him, even in his listless state, and it wouldn’t have helped in any case.

The syringe wielder lifted it and placed it against the intravenous port and ejected the drug into it.

This was their last experiment.

As his last automatic function stopped, he didn’t even scream.

Only humans screamed.

Credit to: Archfeared

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Careful Where You Step

By no stretch of his own imagination was the passerby a heroic man.

But on his walk back home from work that night, the pitiful sound of a whimpering child caught his ear, and aroused his concern. He stopped in his tracks, unsure of what he had heard.

“Hello?” he asked softly, then fell silent to listen.

There was a slight pause.

The child began to whimper again, louder, and the passerby turned his head to find the source of the sound. He scanned the darkened street; brightened dimly only by a few street lamps. His eyes came to rest on an uncovered manhole in the middle of the empty street.

The passerby approached the open hole cautiously; the child’s sputtering grew louder as he drew nearer. He peered down into the hole, but stared only into absolute darkness.

“Hello?” he asked again. “Is anyone down there?”

The child was wailing now, sobbing and crying with greater fervor. A little boy or girl — the voice gave no indication — must have fallen through. The passerby tensed at the affirmation that this lost little child was trapped, possibly hurt, at the bottom of this dark hole.

“Did you fall in? Are you hurt?”

The child made no response, but only continued to wail piteously. Evidently it was either too young or too frightened to speak. The passerby wished now he had his mobile, to contact the police, the fire department — anyone that could take him out of this situation.

“Listen,” he said loudly, over the cries of the child, “stay where you are! I’m going to go get help!”

The child let out a loud, terrible shriek, and the passerby leapt back in surprise. He feared now that the child was in pain, and he knew he could not leave it alone.

The passerby squirmed uncomfortably, and fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. He stared through the hole in the street into the black abyss below him. The child continued its awful screaming.

He reached one hand into the hole, and felt the first metal rung of a ladder. The man stood, turned, steeled himself. He placed his foot on the ladder, and began his descent.

Thankfully, the child stopped shrieking.

As the man reached the bottom of the ladder, he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer pungency of the stench he was immersed in, and suppressed the urge to retch. Even for a sewer, he had not expected such a wretched stank. He brought his shirt up to cover his nose.

“Hello!?” he cried a third time. “I came down for you! I’m by an exit! Where are you!?”

The man heard nothing, save for the scuttling of rats.

Only now that he was immersed in the darkness did he reach into his pocket and pull out the small keychain flashlight attached to his house keys, and he cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.

The small beam provided little light. There was not much to see, only dirty grey brick and foul water. The man heard a gurgle behind him, and whipped his flashlight around at the sound.

It was shaped like a man, but grossly obese. Its skin was sickly pale, and slicked with grease with filthy yellow and brown splotches. The nails that weren’t broken off were overgrown and stained black. It looked at him with perverse excitement, through empty pink-tinged eyes covered by a milky film. Despite its awful corpulence, it crouched readily in front of him like a cat about to pounce.

The passerby’s scream caught in his throat, but he never would have had time to release it. The thing half shambled, half slithered atop him with unnatural speed, crushing him with its huge girth. The passerby looked up into cold, hungry eyes.

The thing let out a childish giggle, and grinned widely to reveal a row of yellowed, decayed, but very sharp teeth.

Credit to: Zinc Dirigible

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Disturbing version of Animal Crossing: City Folk.

Animal Crossing is one of my guilty pleasures when it comes to gaming, and I decided to make the jump from the DS version and buy City Folk for the Wii. I decided to go down to a local Video Game + DVD store that opened up downtown. Upon talking to the clerk, I found the wall for Wii games, with a weird group of unlabeled games near them. I was told that the store will buy used games for a small price, and sometimes re-sell ones that appear to be in working conditions. I ended up buying the game. It had a white jewel case, similar to a PS1 game, and a blank label that was pretty much a white piece of paper with "ANIMAL CROSSING WII" on it. I took the game home, and opened up the case. From the start, I figured something was up. The game appeared to be burned onto a Memorex CD. I turned on the Wii, and here's when things started getting weird.

The game started up normally, albeit the "Nintendo" logo was a dark shade of grey, and there weren't any animal voices speaking it. I started a new game, and noticed that Rover (the purple cat) only spoke parentheses, and had the default sad/worried facial expression stuck on his face. I was greeted with the bus intro, where Kapp'n drives you to your city, and asks you questions. However, the bus seemed to be stopped, as there was no animation or sound. Dialogue boxes popped up at the bottom of the screen. "Who Are You?", "What Gender Are You?" appeared. At this point, I figured that it was either an in-development version, or some sort of rip with limited sound and stuff. The third question came up and startled me. "Where Did They Send You?". At that point, it gave three options, which were simply "A", "B", and "C". I pressed A, and the game cut to black, and then opened with my character near the front gate. The weather was rainy, but the volume of rain seemed to be increased significantly. I didn't see Tom Nook at all, or anyone else. I explored the town, and saw some pretty weird things.

I first tried to find Tom Nook and start the job tutorial, but couldn't find him. I entered Nook's Cranny. All of the items in the store were mannequins (ripped from the city's store), clothing, and various letters "From Mom". I wasn't able to touch any of the letters, but the clothing seemed to be free, as if they were dropped there. When I put them on, they looked like existing clothing patterns, but with (what I assume is) blood spattered on them. This disturbed me. I figured that the game had to have been some sort of modified .ISO, similar to how people can change colors and text with SSB:B, and other titles. I left Nook's Cranny, and noticed that upon attempting to re-enter, the door gets locked, and gives the player the following message: "Stop disturbing us.". I walked far away, and walked into the town hall/post office. The lights seemed dimmer, and Tortimer was the clerk, instead of Pelly/Phyllis. Tortimer automatically spoke. "Why are you here?", with clouds appearing over his head, a sign of an NPC being sad. I wasn't able to make him move, so the post office was disabled. I looked in the garbage pickup box, and the inventory was filled with clothes, fishing rods, slingshots, and more letters from Mom. I exited, but re-entered to make sure that the Nook's Cranny problem wasn't there. I was able to go back in, but Tortimer wasn't there, and all the lights were turned off. I exited, and it began to thunder outside. The landscape started to change. Weeds were visible as far as the eye could see, and many of the trees were replaced with Rafflesia plants, with flies buzzing around them. I walked to the right side of the map, and saw a group of houses. Only three or four. When entering them, it's easy to tell that the houses are wayyy different from in game.

The windows in the houses are boarded up, and trash cans fill the room. They had two NPC's each, which were nondescript cats. Their eyes had no pupils, and when speaking to them, they would turn their backs to you and say "WHYISTHISHAPPENING", with more rainclouds appearing above their heads. After speaking to them, I was kicked out of the houses. The screen cut to black, and faded with me towards the beach. Tom Nook appeared, and gave the usual, normal routine that players go through when beginning the game. I had to wait 2-3 minutes for my char to automatically follow him across town. I got to my house, and entered. The floor and wallpaper were white. No pattern, no texture. Just the color white. I wasn't able to go upstairs, as a "Don't. Please." message appeared. I exited the house, and Tom Nook just stood there, giving me a message consisting of parentheses. The game faded to white, and I heard the "NINTENDO" voice.

I was pissed at this point. I was disturbed, but I can't say I was scared, simply because I assumed it was an odd modification of the game by whomever previously owned it. The game started up in the same exact way. My save was gone! I had to go through the same routine again. When exploring the town, I noticed that the previous houses were gone. I was able to enter Nook's Cranny, but realized something odd. The outfit near one of the mannequins was the same as the one I previously wore, and had a letter near it. I picked it up, and it read "I'm so sorry. Nobody deserves this." I exited the store, and Tom Nook was waiting outside. He gave the same parentheses message as before, and the game faded to white again.

At this point, I'm surprised that I bothered to do the process AGAIN, but out of curiosity, I did. In THIS save, I was freaked out. My character had a very dark, simplistic face with huge black eyes, and a black mouth, similar to the Gyroids from the original title. Now the post office was gone, and every single tree in the game was replaced with a Rafflesia, or the town flag. I entered Nook's Cranny, and surprise-surprise, another mannequin appeared, with my character's default clothes. I left, and Tom Nook gave a different message. "You kids never learn.". The game faded to white, but when I restarted, it appeared normal.

The game had a normal title screen, but I was instantly able to create a save, and not go through the process of answering Q's, etc. It faded to a Wintery town, with the camera focused on a Gyroid outside a house. I thought that it froze, until a human NPC arrived, with Tom Nook talking to them. The camera then zoomed in on the Gyroid. The Gyroid began to jiggle around and let out a weird sobbing noise. The camera faded to black. After that, I wasn't able to create any more saves. The game froze after the Nintendo logo.

Credit to: C-Ron

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction #video game creepypasta

[forbidden-creepypasta]

We All Start Somewhere

First time poster, long time lurker. I've seen enough newfags get berated to know the treatment and I'm ready for it. Critique and criticism are welcomed and encouraged.

When I was young I never paid much thought to the foul creature who whispered to me in the dark moments before sleep. Sometimes it was too faint to hear, or in a foreign language. But when I could hear it I always wished I couldn't, atleast at the beginning. He only spoke of unnatural death and twisted monsters, never once a pleasant word.

He would tell me in terrible detail of those who have died, and how. I used to think that these were the stories of people he killed, but I abandoned that thought long ago. Once I tried to roll over and scream at him to shut up, but when I tried I could not speak. Since then I've never looked, only listened.

After many nights, for many years, I had begun to look forward to my time with him. It had got to the point when I could think only of death. I would envision every account that I was blessed with the night before, sometimes adding myself to the stories, either as the one causing death, or the one receiving it.

As I got older he visited me less and less until he eventually stopped coming altogether. This bothered me to some extent, not because I particularly liked him, but I did like the stories he told. I relied heavily on his wicked inspiration.

It had been many years since I saw him last, but recently he visited me again. He told no stories this time, but I knew he was there. For the first time in our many years together I spoke to him. I asked why he stopped coming. He didn't answer. I asked if this would be our last night together. Again no answer but I felt it was. Lastly I asked why there were no stories, if he was out. He laughed and said. "It's time for you to make your own stories."

This is a continuation of "We all start somewhere" You should probably read that one first, to make sense of this one. The third paragraph is in italics because that's inner thoughts, but in case there was anyone who didn't know. (not condescending) I am very much on the fence about this one. If you feel the first story works better as a stand-alone let me know.

He told me to make my own stories. I was never sure what he meant by that, but it has stayed with me my entire life, haunting me, and giving my very existence a purpose. Eventually came the day when I would uproot myself and set out on my search. For what exactly, I wasn’t sure, at least at the start.

I just needed answers; there were too many questions and not enough answers. So I searched and scoured for any clues, for anything. After some time I found myself in a distant land. By then I had found what I was looking for, although no closer to actually finding it. But in truth, I had found it, many times.

Begging your pardon. My vagueness is intentional. You will understand before its over, that’s my promise to you. Please understand that this is less for you, and more for me. I doubt you would listen anyway, not now at least. Something’s must be seen. Somehow I know it will all be painfully clear to you before this is over.

I had seen terrible things, and done worse. But it was all in the name of... Well, I can find no name to justify the things I've done, so lets just say it was all in my name. My travels had blessed me with many unnatural secrets that I did not believe mankind was ready for, or ever will be for that matter. So I vowed to only use them for my own gain. Perhaps loss is a more fitting word.

When I was a child I never paid much thought to the foul creature that whispered to me in the dark moments before sleep. So why should it be any different this time. Perhaps I can warn him. Stop him from becoming a monster.

So I spoke, because I knew he would listen.

Credit to: unnatural causes

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

The Case of Ed and the Beast

I seek not to admonish or rebuke myself in a wan act of contrition, merely to confess the horrors I encountered before I meet my end. My end…the last salvation remaining in my possession--the only ray of light trapped in the Pandora’s Box of my miserable soul. I catch myself reveling in this magnificence but know of the grim task at hand. For later, then.

My tale takes place on a cold winter’s eve, much as this one. A business acquaintance, a Mr. G-----, invited me for a night of light philosophy and easy revelry at a local tavern and I graciously accepted. No sooner did we cross the threshold of this cursed locale than we were accosted by a surging mob and our companionship torn asunder by the frothing maelstrom of humanity. Bewildered, I stumbled away trying to regain myself when someone—mayhap the Devil himself!—pushed a strange and colorful concoction into my hand. I began to imbibe. Quite delicious! I asked my newfound cohort the name of this delightful beverage and he responded in a manner most peculiar: not with a name, but with a number and the Spanish word for insanity!

The effect took hold on my fragile being almost instantly; the room fading and becoming queer around the edges almost as if the world itself were melting along with my mind! Sounds slowing down quickly then speeding up as my brain struggled to keep up. The colors! The lights! Endless phantasms of neon darted in and out of my vision. In hysteria, I turned on unsteady legs to flee, when I found myself crashing headlong into a mass most ponderous before sprawling to the floor.

I looked up from my haze to see what I had crashed into and came face to face with the most hideous beast ever spewed forth from the bowels of Hell. The beast lifted me with its mighty arms and I was drawn face to face with it. It appraised me cautiously before a hideous grin slithered across its face as it drew my countenance closer to its hideous maw. Oh!--I want to tell you that I ran away and escaped; would that it were true. I was powerless before the beast, my limbs not responding to the frenzy of fear in my head. Imagine, your soul crying out in the torment it knows awaits and your body powerless to stop it! Whether in sheer revulsion or as an effect from the Spanish devil brew, I swooned and knew no more.

I awoke in inky darkness, on my back, utterly disrobed and with strange claw marks crossing my breast. I endeavored to remember the circumstances that had thrust me in this predicament. An attempt to sit up brought the matter to light. That drink, that evil drink—the only true cause! Of this, no doubt could be had. That virulent man, mayhap he works in concert with the beast, the better to set its vile hunting grounds fresh with human allurements. Ah the beast! Could it still be near? Might this dark dungeon be in fact the very lair of what I wished to avoid?

I considered escape—I knew very little of my surroundings with the darkness consuming all senses. A rush of sensory perception came to meet my face—a most foul and noxious odor. Oh horror, the beast was near! I searched frantically my surroundings for a weapon or any defense whatsoever. The darkness, an ally of the beast would not allow it. My fate was sealed; the beast had me in its loathsome clutches!

From the darkness, pale whiteness emerged before me—too much of it for my sake. I realized grimly that the hideous underbelly of the beast was being lowered towards me. Without warning the terrible act began. The bulbous bulky belly of the beast blasted towards me, battering me! The fearsome talons latched onto my shoulders, thus solving the mystery of my besmirched breast. The mane of the beast writhed to and fro in the ecstasy of conquest; it had its prize firmly in its grasp and was not letting go. With panic I felt a dull ache on my groin and I realized the worst was yet to come. The beast meant to consume me! With horror I cried out; with euphoria and exultation the beast cried out. I begged with God himself to rescue me, take me from this debauched travesty I was embedded in. A lifetime of purity and piety rewarded—the beautiful darkness of a swoon descended upon me rescuing what remained of my senses.

Upon awaking, the wonderful light of day showed me my plight. The beast slumbered, exhausted and sated by its primal triumph. The exit taunted me, mere feet from my prone position. Could I truly escape this foul nightmare? Like a bandit I crept in total silence towards the door, unbelieving of this brief moment of good fortune, gathering my mutilated and defiled belongings along the way. With a start the beast belched and snorted to life—my escape detected so soon! With a barbarous scream I tore the aperture open, abandoning the remainder of my vestments still discarded in the beast’s lair and bounded towards wonderful freedom!

And yet my escape was not true; the veritas of my being now soiled and desecrated, the immaculacy of my soul tarnished forevermore. I am not a free man, nor shall I ever become one again. What is taken by force can never be redeemed, not even for one as virtuous as I. That is why I must do this. I have not received missive from Mr. G----- since that fateful night. I morosely suspect his fate to be all too similar to my own. Does he shroud himself in disgrace, or has he already accepted the fate I resign myself to? I shall never know.

The time is now--the caliginosity of the grave will overtake me within moments. I implore you to hearken to this guidance truly. For God’s sake, stay canny my friends—stay cagey my friends!

Credit to: JDS

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #parody pasta #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Over the River and through the Wood

Okay guys, this is the first story that I have EVER written, and It's been something that I've wanted to at least try. So please just keep the insults to a minimum, and tell me what you think.

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I was 18 when I started smoking weed. My friends and I would just roll out through the streets of my city, blasting rap music, reminiscing about fun times as well as making our own as we went. We would pick up a sack, get some cigarillos, grab some munch food and just take a 2 hour drive through the backroads on the outskirts of my hometown.

Having just graduated high school, I considered these the most fun times of my life because I had never gotten high when I was still in school. It was a new experience, and I can easily say that pot has had a major influence on the way that I think and see situations.

So as you can imagine, when I got busted with an O in my car, I was pretty upset. I couldn't even fathom a life without marijuana now. But at the same time, it was a really dumb idea to just smoke out in a vehicle where you're pretty much easy prey for the cops to catch you.

We all got a major scare from this, as one of my friends that was with me got hit with a 20 sack as well. We all still wanted to smoke the ganj of course, but we had to find a safer way of going about it. We couldn't at our houses; our parents were a little strict about that kind of stuff.

Around this time, we all were playiing basketball on a daily basis, being summer and all. The normal place that we went to to play was really an inside swimming pool with a basketball court up the hill from it. Near the entrance to the pool building, there is a small playground near the woods. The woods themselves served as a kind of public nature preserve that had many trails throughout that all eventually connected with eachother and led out to 3 different exits.

This was already a regular smoke spot for people in the area already; we were always seeing people our age walking up the trail that was next to the basketball court into the woods, only to come back out 30 minutes later with the tell tale signs of stoners. We also saw this as the perfect place to smoke, and one night, decided to try it out.

It was my friends Kyle, Bailey, and I who went into the woods at about 11 at night or so; the girls were too scared to go there at that time. We walked for about half an hour or so, taking in the sights and surroundings, looking at the various signs posted describing what types of plants and such were nearby.

Eventually, all of the paths seemed to lead into a big circle. This was kind of a surprise to me, because the woods seemed a lot larger than the trails gave justice to. We were about to go ahead and find a place to sit so we could light up, until I noticed a somewhat hidden path that was blocked by a fallen tree branch. It was also partially hidden by leaves because it didnt even seem like a path until we started to walk it.

The trail eventually split two ways, both of which we went. To the right, a crude path led to a dead end called Honeysuckle Hollow (or so the signs depicted), while going straight led to an open area, about 40 feet or so wide, and in a circular fashion. There were signs there naming the wildlife again, but there was a sign which said "Leaves of Three: Let It Be," which we thought was kind of funny. We found a large stone bench type of thing and proceeded to spark the blunts. We started making jokes about the sign, and even named ourselves the 3 leaves after the sign, since there were 3 of us. There was another sign that showed a few different types of flowers, the top one named Larkspur. We decided to name this place "The Lark" from that point on, and after we were finished smoking, we left.

It became a regular thing smoking in the Lark. We found a trailhead (the 3rd exit) and it was pretty much a shorter way to get to our destination. This was satisfactory for awhile, but eventually we all became interested in going deeper into these woods. There was still one more trail that was the opposite direction of the entrance to the Lark, so one day we followed it.

Not surprisingly, we passed more signs, and finally came to a wooden platform, which I can only really describe as a boat dock for fishing. It had 3 benches and was surrounded by a wooden railing, about 15 by 15. This became our new place to smoke, as it offered a more comfortable place to sit and it was obviously further from the open area. There was still one more trail that ran beside this wooden platform, but it was really hard to spot because, I thought, it was just rarely ever walked.

As time went by, my curiousity of the trail heightened. My friends weren't really interested, as the whole point of this place was to smoke, not to explore. But my mind was made up. I wanted to know what other cool stuff lie in wait in these woods. It felt like I had a strong desire to just have some kind of closure on the trails: I wanted to see everything these woods had to offer. What a mistake.

One day after work, I decided to walk to the pool and through the trails to finish the trails. I had a blunt rolled up already for this adventure, and I sparked it as I got to the wooden platform. The "path" led downhill, and around some trees, then made a sharp incline upwards. There were a few somewhat visible trails that split in a lot of different directions, but none of them were really definable. I decided to just keep going straight, which was actually a pretty difficult walk, which I can now safely call a hike.

I knew that the real trails made by the Park Preservation Foundation ended at that wooden platform, because there were no signs anywhere after that point. In my mind, I thought these trails were made by other curious people (probably other stoners). Looking back, I don't know why I thought it was such a good idea to explore these trails, especially alone.

I had been smoking and walking this uphill incline for about ten minutes, examining the scenery in hopes of finding something, anything that looked interesting. But there was nothing but nature. I started to reach the top of the area, and I was about 1/4 the way through with the blunt. In other words, in the beginning stages of stonage.

At the top, the ground level was normal, but I could see that about 50 feet in front of me, there was an opening. The opening looked like it led out of the woods, but I had walked a pretty great distance; I honestly had no clue what to expect when I walked out.

As I exited the woods, I found myself in a very large, and again, circular area surrounded by trees. This area's circumference I could only estimate as being the length of 3 football fields. In all directions, all I could see past this clearing were trees. As I started to look around, I noticed two things. About 30 feet straight in front of me, there was a plain looking building, similar in size to a large one story house. Looking to my left, a small path led over to a fenced area. This is what caught my eye the most, because it was an inward barbed fence, that had caution signs on it warning about electricity.

Inside of the fenced area, there was a stone square with 4 of these things on it that resembled something like a generator or a heating unit. Directly to the left of these generators was a tall outpost. I remember thinking that it looked like what you would see guards standing on at a prison, watching for escapees. What I saw next got my blood pumping a little bit. On top of this tower, there was a windsock, which is used to detect aircraft.

I could only question what I was seeing. Why would a place out in the middle of the woods need an aircraft detector? Why were the barbed wires bet inwards? What the hell even was this place?

As I thought to myself, I took my last hit of the blunt, and was at the peak of my buzz. I walked along side of the fencing, and saw a ramp running along side of the stone platform leading to an apparent underground facility.

I'm not an idiot: I wasn't going to go adventuring underground in an unknown place to me, especially since it was obviously meant to keep people in, not out. But I was still intruiged, and a little scared at the same time. I decided to walk out towards the building I had first noticed. As I approached it, I discerned that there were actually no signs; no markings of any kind to help me figure out what it was for.

I always try to rationalize situations, but at this point I was getting wary. There were no exits to this place other than the one I came in from, and the idea of some crazed killer or something taking refuge in this building while I'm out of screaming distance would have normally jolted me. But I was high as a kite, and felt no fear.

The door seemed like it was locked, but after a few seconds of yanking at the handle, I got it open. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly fell down as I heard/saw two deer run from out of the far end of the woods to the north, towards another section to the east. My heart racing, I thought about the deer. They were the first animals of any kind that I had even ever seen in these woods. I found the fact odd to say the least, yet dismissed it as animals fearing human contact. I steeled myself, and entered the building.

The first thing that I noticed was that the inside of the building did not portray what the outside did. I looked around and saw all kind sof machinery and computers that looked pretty advanced, at least in my eyes. It reminded me of a scientific laboratory, and I kind of started to get a sick feeling, so I immediately left the building.

At this point, I didn't have that curious feeling anymore. In fact, the feeling I had was more like paranoia. As if my worst fears were coming true, I heard a door open. I immediately realized that it was the door that lead to the underground facility, and instinctively I hid behind the building I had just exited. I saw two men wearing Hazmat suits walking towards the fence that led to the open area. They proceeded to walk towards the furthest end of this clearing from the only exit. The seemed to open some kind of latch on the ground, and then I saw it.

In chains, these two scientists or whatever the hell they were pulled out a man with a black bag over his head, arms chained behind his back along with chains on his ankles. He seemed to have been drugged; he could barely stand or utter anything legible. I couldn't really tell what they were doing, but it looked like they were drawing his blood or something of that nature. I'm really glad that I decided not to explore the building, because one of the two scientists walked to the building, luckily the opposite side of it that I was hiding on, and went inside. I don't know how I can relate to you how genuinely scared I was.

After the one scientist went inside the building, I watched the other one. He seemed to be acting the part of a doctor; checking vitals, eyes, the inside of the mans mouth, etc. I didn't know what to think really. I just stood there and prayed I would have a chance to get out of this place. I then heard the door open again.

I watched as the scientist walked over to his colleague and shake his head in disappointment. The scientist who was checking the prisoners vitals and what-not proceeded to pull out a silenced pistol, and shoot the man in the head, dropping him cold.

I almost screamed. I could not even fathom what I was seeing, and believe me, I knew what I was seeing was legit. I watched these men carry the body all the way from the latch they pulled him from, over to the fenced underground area, and down the ramp through the door. As I saw the door shut, I fucking booked it. I ran all the way from the side of the building I hid behind through the clearing, hoping that no one would see me. As I reached the incline that now would slant sharply downhill, I didn't give a fuck. My adrenaline running rampant, I took long strides as I ran at pretty much a 45 degree angle downhill. I didn't stop when I reached the wooden platform signalling the end of the actual trails, nor did I stop when I reached the Lark. I didn't even stop when I was out of the woods altogether, running all the way to where the playground area was.

I finally stopped to catch my breath, and to take in what I had just seen. I thought about going to the police, but something about that place screamed "top secret government research" in my head. I thought that I might be killed just for seeing what I had seen. I had no clue what to think, and without being able to tell my friends what happened, I just plain refused to smoke in any part of those woods anymore.

If you are like me, and you smoke weed every day, you know what it does to your mind. You do not hallucinate. You do not see things that are not there, let alone what I had seen. I knew that what I had seen was something sinister and secret, yet I reveal this to you all now, years later.

I have become extremely paranoid. When I see people, I immediately think that they are working for the government. I feel like I can't trust anyone. I am at the point to where if I don't do something drastic, I will end up killing myself.

I've decided to go back to that place, during the night this time. I'm confident that no one saw me the first time, that's why I've been safe all these years. What I saw happened in daylight, so I can only imagine what kind of experiments or whatever it is they are doing there goes on during the night. This is the first message I am sending out to you all, and my second detailing what I discover tonight will be sent when I return.

Wish me luck.

Credit to:knives1990

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Lovecraft's 190th

“They were clever bastards, those Mahayana monks. Either that, or really damn stupid.”

Joe absently scratched his elderly head, disturbing his floppy white fringe, and replaced his cap. He continued his little monologue when I didn’t reply immediately. We trudged lazily on.

“You see, it’s the bacteria in your gut that decay you when you croak. They just spread and feast away. If you can get rid of the buggers, though, and keep away the worms and flies as well, you’ll stay in pretty good condition. You won’t win any beauty contests, sure, but you’ll be better than just a skeleton.”

We reached the door to the museum basement, and Joe pulled out his keys, eventually selecting the right one and opening the door. Most of the storage was taken up with shelves sparsely populated with no doubt priceless relics. The remaining space, about one third of the giant room, housed the larger exhibits. All of them were boxed or covered in plastic, making it difficult to tell them apart. Only the complicated tags on each of them made them identifiable.

“Are you saying the monks killed their own gut flora?” I asked, slightly incredulous.

“Yup. But it weren’t easy. It took months of starvation, eating roots and seeds and stuff with the nutrition of dirt.” Joe paused to check one of the tags before continuing. “They also had this meditation technique that’d slow down their breathing, so oxygen consumption was down by half. Some of them would tie a belt around their neck to help things along. Ah, here we are.”

We stopped at one unremarkable looking crate, the tag of which proclaimed it as ‘TD 1/1495 – Tibetan monk, mummified’. Of more concern was the red lettering across the lid, which simply read ‘DO NOT OPEN’.

“So they choked and starved themselves to death?” I asked.

“Kind of. They believed that the closer they got to bodily death, the freer their minds became. Like, the whole universe became clear, or something. So, when they were ready, the other monks would dig a pit. The crazy bastard would then sit inside while it was filled with salt. In a couple of days they died, and a few days after that they would be dug and decorated.”

“Decorated?”

“Yeah, covered in gold and flowers and whatnot. This guy was different though. He was still in the pit when we found him. Been there about 500 years or so. Worst thing is, looks like the poor sod didn’t want to die. He weren’t in the lotus position, he was clawing for his life. Must’ve seen something he didn’t like.”

“Joe,” I say softly, “What bearing has this on the case?”

“Well, Phil had only been with us a week or so but I can tell you that ain’t him upstairs.”

“He was pretty cut up, Joe. It would be difficult to-“

“You didn’t see it walking around, Detective. There were – there were bits of Phil on it. His skin, definitely, and a few organs, but the majority of it just puffed up into dust when I whacked it. Did you find any bones with the rest of it?”

I’ll admit I was pretty rattled by this point, even more so than when I first saw the butchery in the main crime scene.

“No, we didn’t,” I said, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that something else was trying to disguise itself as Phil, and did a piss-poor job of it.”

“What, you think the mummy here killed him?”

He shook his head sadly.

“So what happened to Phil then?”

Joe said nothing, just looked nervously at the crate. In the sudden silence, I heard the soft scraping sound of nails on wood.

Based on the 190th entry in Lovecraft's commonplace book. Check out Tower's post to see the list: http://www.creepypasta.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=13828

Credit to: lord_kevin

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

One-sentence creepypastas

alapanamo: Fun but challenging little exercise: How creepy can you make a single sentence, removed from any context? In how few words can you induce chills? (the “creepiness-to-brevity ratio”) Post your own, just make sure to avoid run-on sentences with fifty commas. That's cheating.

The shopping mall Easter bunny leaned in close to the little girl on his lap, and from deep within the costume a hollow voice whispered, “I'll see you in your closet tonight.”

Robert had regarded the young hitchhiker with suspicion as he drove by, but now regarded him with horror, many decades later, as the same young man came to him on his deathbed for last rites.

The grave robber's flashlight died as the corpse's leathery hand tightened around his own.

My shadow crept away from me, stretching longer and longer, and when next I looked down it was no longer attached to my feet.

I do not like to sleep, because when I do, I always dream of a blinding white room where demons masquerading as doctors stab me with needles, smiling their patronizing smiles and telling me I am not dreaming.

Lindsay had become stuck in a small window while fleeing the scythe-wielding farmer, but with a swish of air and a sickening crunch behind her she was freed.

Last night I had just crawled into bed, but instantly jumped out when I felt a pair of cold feet beneath the covers, touching my own.

zygotesix: "I woke but left my eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of my wife's hair on my shoulders and her breath on my neck - until I remembered that she had died last week."

TopHatSaurus: Little Susan walked into her room only to find the dead bodies of her parents lying on her bed, with their stomachs slashed open "Awww, their just like how i left them" she giggled.

perfectcircle35: My curiosity transformed into horror when I saw the author was NoLove.

Lauralot: I reach inside the doorway for the lightswitch and something grabs my hand.

NiccolaVonMask: As I stared in shock at the bodies in the freezer, my mind wandered back to the homemade sausage Grandma served me this morning.

BananaCorn: I coughed violently, then stared in horror at the worms in my palm.

Arachne: I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the bugs in my ears.

Truncheon: If even think about looking at your feet, the horrors of hell shall reveal itself in the floor beneath.

Found carved at the side of an old, decrepit archway: "We all came in, but only I came back WHOLE."

Found scribbled inside the cover page of a grimoire: "People have died reading this, so what makes you think you won't be the same?"

Found scratched underneath a talking board: "Why won't you speak with us anymore?"

A two-sentencer: The ghosts all watched me from behind the glass windows as I ran. They were probably wondering if I was going to make it.

Stop squirming in your chair if you want me to hear you.

That wet, velvety feeling on your heel is just my way of saying hello.

Why aren't the blood stains gone?

JMorgan: Wait a minute, I thought - I don't own a teddy bear.

I want you to know that what I'm about to do is nothing personal.

When I tried my front door, I found it already unlocked.

As I stared in horror at her bloodied, mangled body, she turned her head and smiled at me.

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy story #microfiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

The Night on the Farm

It was on the old farm up north, two years ago, that I lost my wife. We were going up there to get away from the city, we'd heard that nobody was there, so we thought maybe if we spent the weekend there, we'd have a good time, just the two of us. We pulled in Friday night off a two-hour drive up there. Both of us were pretty exhausted so we left most of our rations in the car, bringing our sleeping bags in. We set up camp in a room on the second floor, and I looked out over the farm through a window. I noticed a bunch of pikes, about five feet high, sticking up from the ground, with small piles of hay lay scattered around the base of each one. I didn't think much of it at the time, and we went to sleep shortly thereafter.

Later that night, I awoke to a soft sound. It wasn't a particularly windy night, nor was the farm very loud, otherwise I might never have noticed it. It was a cushy sound, like somebody was setting down a bag of something, over and over again. I turned on our electric lamp, and the light spilled across the room, out the door and onto the silhouette of someone walking up the stairs. The head seemed to turn towards the room, and his subtlety was instantly replaced with speed. He thumped up the remaining stairs and burst into our room, and only then did I notice it wasn't human. Its skin was burlap, and straw poked through at various points along its body. Its face was painted on, a happy smile below cheery eyes, eyes that were staring at me and my just-waking wife. It swept into the room and brought its arm across my wife's face, throwing her much further than I expected. I started to rise but it brought its arm down on my head, and I went unconscious immediately.

When I awoke, the two of us were in a small room with dirt walls. A lantern was suspended from a hook gouged into the ceiling, and cast an eerie glow across the room. I was tied up in a corner of the room with thick hemp rope, immobilized. My wife lay on a table in the center of the room, and the hideous monster stood over her, grinning down as it began to prepare its work. It picked up a knife from the table - how it did so, I have no idea - and began to cut into her, sawing down the middle of her chest. She shrieked in pain, blood spraying up onto its body and face, but it relentlessly tore her open. She soon went limp, and it finished the job, cutting her from neck to groin. It put the knife down, and began ripping out all of her intestines, carelessly letting them drop in a pile beside it. It then took some hay from the corner opposite me, and stuffed it into her. It took its time with this task, making sure as much hay was packed into her as possible.

By the time it was stitching her back up, I had managed to loosen my ropes. Turns out that despite its impressive ability to tie a knot given its working conditions, its skill was still limited. When it turned around to grab more hay, I sprung up and began hopping for the stairs, my legs still tied together. It immediately noticed, and quickly grabbed me by the throat, throwing me back into the room. I hit the far wall hard, slumping to the ground, startled by its strength. It turned and came toward me as I used the table to pull myself back up, and I grabbed the first thing I could think of - the lantern hanging overhead - and threw it on the straw beast. No noise but the sound of it burning came from it, and it didn't seem immediately deterred. Instead, it continued to come at me, throwing fiery punches as the flames quickly enveloped its body. I dodged a few blows and, in all the jumping, managed to get free of my bonds. I shot up the stairs as fast as my legs would take me, flew into my car and only then did I look back at the farm. The thing had followed me to the porch, but now stood there patting itself out. Its burlap skin was charred almost all over, and it watched me with a broken expression of happiness as I started my car. I glanced across the field again, and noticed each of the pikes had a swarm of flies surrounding it.

I started to drive away, but slowly, horrified and fascinated at the still-living thing. I saw in the rear-view mirror that it was collecting hay to add to itself, healing the damage. I also saw my wife stumble awkwardly from the door, and, without thinking, I hit the brakes. I was sure she was dead, but it was a shock to see her again. She walked out across the field as though she'd never taken a step in her life, but with an impressive display of strength, hoisted herself up onto a pike, impaling herself onto it. Her eyes fixed on my car as I sped off, never to return.

Credit to: Omnipresence

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #horror fiction #creepy stories #scarecrows

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Duet

I thought about saying that this is my first attempt at a Creepypasta, and to go easy on me, but I've been lurking this site for about a month, and I know that's not gonna happen. That said, have at it jackals, tear it apart! Enjoy - or not

Allegra thinks back to when she was a child, when her and her mother, a world renowned opera singer, would sing together. They spent her entire childhood, practicing.It had been two years since her mother's passing, and on days such as this, when Allegra would find herself missing her, she would play her mother's cd's, and sing along. She turned on the cd player and pressed play, and walked to the center of the room. First the music started, then the sound of her mother's voice filled the room. Almost in tears, Allegra sang along. Her mind drifted back to those days of childhood, when her mother would sing to her when she was sick. She remembered watching as her mother and father would dance together everyday. She remembered the smell of the food cooking in the kitchen, and learning family recipies from helping them prepare their nightly dinners. The song peacefully ended, and Allegra stood waiting for the next song to start, but it didn't. She walked over hit play, and nothing happened. She pressed eject, only to see, an empty tray.

Credit to: Contrast

#creepypasta #d'awwwpasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Other Planes

Hey guys, this is the first pasta I've written. Probably the first story i've written since elementary school, I guess. I've been reading pastas for a while and figured I would try writing my own. I wrote it this afternoon because i'm trying to figure out what i'm interested in. Just lookin for any tips that can help me improve my writing. It's a little long and rambling I think, but i'm hoping you guys can help

Other Planes

Dear John,

I don’t know who else to write. We used to shoot heroin together, and you’re the only person I can think of who got clean, and stayed clean. I don’t know where I will be or if I will be breathing when this reaches you. I’m writing you to try to get my mind off of this, and to get my story out if something worse happens.

I haven’t touched it in five days. Five days, five hundred days, no difference to me. I miss it so much, but I know what will happen if I decide to indulge. I hadn’t slept since the last time I had it. 5 days ago. My mind is racing. I can hear cars outside my window, but we’re on different planets. I try to keep my mind clear, but my thoughts all return to that damn little red bottle with its damn child proof cap. Child proof, how ridiculous. Why can’t there be an adult proof bottle? I have tasted the forbidden apple, and it has changed me. Well, what did I expect? That bastard in the suit selling it said it would be a life changing experience. He didn’t say what kind of life changing experience, he didn’t say that it would torture me to the very core.

So why is it that this bottle still haunts and taunts me even though it brings out the worst in me? Well, the answer is obvious to anyone who has done a mind altering substance. The two E’s. Escape and Euphoria. Oh god it’s good man. It’s better than any combination of drugs I can imagine. You won’t belive how I found it, to be honest, I’m having trouble remembering exactly how it came into my posession. I was in a bind. I’d been up on speedballs for a good while, how long, I can’t be sure. By that point I was injecting in between my toes. It was painful, but fuck it, it worked. You know how it is John.

Of course, as happens with most junkies, I ran out of money. I had nothing left, not even anything to sell, and I definitely couldn’t prostitute myself. I was skin and bones, had no appetite, but what the hell did I care, I was high. But of course, I started coming down, and with that comes the anxiety, the fear. I started freaking out calling all of my contacts begging for just a single hit, anything to keep myself from crashing. Of course they told me to fuck myself until I paid them for the last free hit. I must have owed 4 different dealers money.

I was screwed. The drugs had been wearing off for an hour or longer, and my mind was speeding. I decided I’d go out for a walk and do whatever it took to keep this high going. I grabbed my brown jacket, and whipped it over my shivering body. I don’t even remember if I closed my door, much less locked it. I had one thing on my mind, and one thing only, man. Drugs. I checked out all the usual spots. But I couldn’t find anyone. Benny on third, Mike at the park. Nobody was where they should be. I guess I should have taken it as odd, but I wasn’t even thinking. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing anyone else on the street.

I was thinking how I might have to resort to sucking dick for drugs for the first time in my life, when I noticed a light coming from a back alley between some shitty thrift store and a market. I figured maybe some dude was smoking a spliff or something, and hopefully I could mooch myself a little to keep myself going. So off I go down this dark, dreary, dirty alleyway. It was the strangest thing, from the outside it looked like a tiny passage, but once you got walking in a little deeper it really opened up into a large area. The light source was a small black stand in the back left corner of the clearing. There was a small figure standing behind it. It didn’t make sense because I knew the shape of the buildings, and there shouldn’t be a large clearing here, but that was the last thing on my mind. Like I said, one thing on the brain.

So I finally get to where the light is coming from, but it was not what I expected. From a distance, I couldn’t quite tell if the person was male or female, and getting closer did little to clear up the confusion. He was wearing a white suit, white shoes, and a white cowboy hat. I remember hearing spurs jingle when he moved around. I thought I caught the gleam of a pistol in his belt, but it could have just been a belt buckle for all I cared. It gets kind of fuzzy when I think of it, but I remember he or she was missing an eye. No eye patch, just an empty socket. As scared as I was, the person called me over and I felt drawn to uh.. it. I walked over, and when I got closer it said “You’re lookin a little down chum.” With an English accent.

So the situation is this: it’s wearing a white suit, behind a black stand, with a possible gun in his waist, I’m alone in the alley, and I decided it was a good idea to see what he was offering. In your sober state John, you must think I’m an idiot, but you have to remember how it was when you needed a fix. Anyway I walked over and asked what he was doing here. He told me he was “Just tryin’ to get by”. Well, I didn’t ask questions and judging by the looks of his stand and all the assorted jars and smaller bottles on it, I figured he wasn’t selling vegetables. I decided he had to be selling stolen prescription drugs judging by the bottles with labels on them. And then I saw it.

It was like he/she wanted it to stand out. All of the jars were black, and all of the small bottles were white. But right in the front centre, was a red bottle with no words on it. As soon as he saw my eyes dart to it, he said, “Ah I see you have noticed my most prized possession.” Of course I didn’t ask who he was or what the fuck he was doing here, I just asked what was in the bottle. He said “This bottle holds something different for each curious mind. I can see you have a love for escaping reality, and this bottle will give you everything and more than you could ever want. It will change your life.” I didn’t even ask him to clarify what drug it was, I just snatched it from his hand and ran away. I got a strange feeling as I was running away, and when I reached the exit of the alley, I could have sworn I heard a girl release a glass shattering scream that ended with a cackle, and it shook me to my core.

The noise stays with me, I can still hear it clearly. Once I gathered myself, and tried to shake it off, my mind drifted back to the bottle that was now tucked into my pocket. I took it out. It felt like there was only a single pill inside. I opened it up, and as expected, a small white circle stared back up at me. I figured fuck it, it couldn’t be that bad, and it’s better than nothing. I took it out, popped it in my mouth, swallowed it, and ran home. Thinking back on it now, it’s funny how the mind works when it’s craving. I took a pill from a complete stranger and downed it without even thinking, just to get back on that cloud.

I got home, and had been waiting an hour, and nothing was happening. The sweats were getting worse, and the anxiety was killing me. I kept thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve got a hit of anything, and worrying that this pill would do nothing. But my fears were quickly dissipated when I felt a strange tingle in my spine. And from that tingle a warm feeling of cool euphoria, like a river pulsing through my body, rushed through me. It was great. At the same time as the euphoria, the hallucinations started. Every colour became vivid, I swear I even saw some colours I had never seen before. I was transported to a never ending garden with the most beautiful flowers and plants I had ever seen. The greenest grass, the freshest fruit. Sitting on the bench in the distance was a woman. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Long flowing blonde hair, a perfect smile, perfect curves. I swear she was an angel. She just sat there on a bench smiling at me. The best part of all this was that I felt no fear, just amazement and ecstasy. It was better than any amount of heroin. I couldn’t believe it. It was the greatest feeling I’ve ever felt, and for the next few hours (I lost track of exactly how long it lasted), I was in complete heaven just staring at her smile. She never moved.

You can’t even imagine it, John. I wasn’t even thinking about the come down, but the absolute first second when I noticed the drugs effects waning, I was transported back to my room. Except it was different. I couldn’t see colour. Everything became black and white. This scared the hell out of me, I didn’t know what was happening. I ran to the bottle to maybe look for some words or anything about side effects. I wasn’t colour blind for fuck’s sake. This isn’t supposed to happen. I picked up the bottle and was looking for any markings on it, when I heard something jingle inside. “What the hell?” I thought. I opened it up, and there, sitting in the bottom of the bottle, was another pill. I swear I heard that girl’s scream again, but I figured it was just the come down and some kind of auditory hallucination.

Fuck it I thought, and snatched it up and swallowed it in one motion. An ear shattering scream floored me, and I was quickly back in the world I had just left. But this time it was different. Everything was still black and white. The girl was still sitting on the bench, but this time her hair was black. Instead of a beautiful smile, it was a disgusting snarl. Her perfect curves gave way to boney arms and legs, bending in ways I didn’t think possible. If the girl I saw before was an angel, this girl was a demon. She also didn’t move. She just sat there snarling, and I couldn’t shake her gaze. I had never been so scared in my life. For what seemed like an eternity, I was completely paralyzed by fear. My mind was only thinking the most disgusting and vile thoughts a person could possibly think of.

After what seemed like another eternity, it disappeared, and I was back in my room. But it wasn’t my room. I was still colour blind. The girl was in my room with me. She became a mixture of both of the hallucinations, the beautiful and the ugly. Half black hair, half white, half snarl, half smile. She still caused me great fear, and at the same time great ecstasy. Her stare still never left my face. She spoke to me once when I finally got past my feelings and pushed some words out of my mouth. I asked her what was happening to me, and where I was. She told me that this is purgatory. She said there was only one way out, and I realized she was talking about the bottle. I jingled the bottle, and sure enough there was another pill inside.

My eyes left the bottle to glance at her one last time, she had got up and was menacingly sprinting at me. I tried to scream, but before the scream left my mouth she was on me and everything became black.

When the darkness cleared and I realized I was awake, I was on the ground outside that dark alley between that shitty thrift store and that market. I was still suffering the bad withdrawal, and my mind kept shifting between what the hell just happened to me, and how the hell I was going to get my fix again. My arm brushed my jacket, and I heard a pill jingle in a bottle in my pocket. I was too scared to take out the bottle and validate my fear that what had just happened to me was real. Finally, overcoming my fear and shivering, I punched my hand into my pocket, and pulled it out. And there in my hand, was the red bottle with the single pill jingling inside.

There was still nobody on the streets, and I still had no way to score. I ran back to my apartment, and here I’ve been for the past 5 days staring at the bottle. I’ve been looking out my window, and I haven’t seen a car or a person since the alley incident. I don’t feel like I’m even on Earth anymore. The withdrawal does not get better, and it does not get worse. It simply is, and I cannot think of anything else. Now I am stuck with the dilemma of the bottle. Do I take the pill? I can’t be sure what happened was real. I am so afraid of going back to that hellish place, but maybe I will get the heaven? I can’t live like this forever. I’ve thought about killing myself, but then I might as well just take the pill and see what happens.

That’s it. I’ve decided it. I’m going to take the pill. I realize now that I might as well already be in hell. As I feel it move down my throat, I hear an ear piercing scream and everything goes black as a man in a white cowboy hat drags me down through the floor.

Credit to: fakeup

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

In the Dark

For your consideration, my first creepypasta. If this merits posting on the main site, feel free! Reactions much appreciated.

In the Dark

My twin brother Chris and I drove cross-country this summer. We planned to do it in a week. We had each just finished our freshman year of college. Suddenly we had friends all across the country, and since we had nothing else to do over the summer we thought we’d visit them. We partied through Delaware, into Ohio, heading west, planning to spend a few weeks with our friend Ted in San Francisco by the end of June. We called it “The Wu Brothers’ Great Adventure” or “Chris and Stephen’s Bogus Journey.” We took turns driving and fought over the iPod.

On Wednesday we found ourselves crossing Iowa. Fields rolled to our sides; occasionally a hill would rear above us. We had stayed with a friend in Chicago the day before and had gotten a very late, hungover start. It was midnight by the time we hit the center of the state and we were both dragging. Chris’ head rested against the window and I could see he was falling asleep. It was about time to get gas, maybe some coffee.

I took an offramp at random and we drove beside the highway for a mile, two miles. Chris had sat up and was watching with half-shut eyes. Up ahead we could see a gas station, a pool of orange light in the flat darkness. It was old-fashioned, local, but it had gas pumps out front and the lights were on in the convenience store. Just past midnight we couldn’t ask for better.

Chris went off to the bathroom as I filled the car. Insects hummed in the night, I guess grasshoppers. They made a lulling, tidal chorus. I blinked as I held the handle of the gas hose. Regular was only $1.99 here, I saw. I read the price sign over and over the way you do when you’re sleepy and there’s nothing else to distract you.

When the tank was full I headed inside to pay. The place looked a little rough – just a sign that said “GAS” over the door. The window was flyspecked. Brown filth streaked the linoleum floor, like someone had mopped it halfheartedly. A fluorescent light hummed, adding its voice to the insect chorus from outside. White metal shelves stood forlornly empty. I could see dust outlines where they must have once held food or magazines or something. The cash register was in a little plastic cubicle, also hard-used and grimy. No cashier in sight. Past the register a door opened into the garage, which was dark. Next to the door stood a vending machine, lit up pink.

I rang the bell for the cashier and walked over to the machine. When I drive, I tend to eat greasy road food and I was hoping for some Combos. The machine looked like it had a printed sticker over the glass front, a pink, wavy pattern. Up close it proved to be completely stuffed with what looked like hamburger meat. A light pink fluid dripped out of the slot on the bottom, pooling beneath it. “ENJOY!” said the sign at the top. As I turned away strong, clammy hands grabbed me and a black plastic bag slipped over my head.

When I woke up I was on a concrete floor , staring up into a bare lightbulb. My arms and legs burned horribly. I struggled to a sitting position and saw that someone had tightened hose clamps neatly just below each of my knees and just above my elbows. I don’t know if you’ve ever used hose clamps – they’re very useful for plumbing and duct work. They’re a thin metal band with a little gear attached to it – you can use a screwdriver to turn the gear to get the band good and tight. Someone had done this to me, stripped me to my underwear, and fitted these clamps around my arms and legs, and tightened them until they cut raw circles into my flesh. I could move my arms and legs but they were simultaneously numb and burning. A slow ooze of blood crept past the metal bands, which were so new and shiny that I could see my terrified face in them. They kept me there for ten days.

When Chris and I were little my parents would leave us with our grandmother. We’re Chinese, but as you can tell from Chris’ name my family converted to Christianity (Lutheran, if you’re interested). My grandmother, who had grown up in mainland China, stayed a Buddhist, and she only spoke Chinese. My brother and I were both basically bilingual, so we would sit and listen while my grandmother told us Buddhist parables and stories from the old country. She taught us a few prayers, including one to the Amida Buddha, and for some reason as I lay on that filthy floor and listened to the screams I began repeating it to myself.

By then I think five or six hours had gone by. I had seen our captors. They wore shapeless, ruddy robes, and they shuffled on tiny, short legs. It could have been comical if they hadn’t been monsters. They were made, from what I could see, of gross, marbled flesh, livid, dead-looking, with yellow fat giving some of it a greasy shine. They were shaped like men, and they had powerful, thick arms and four-fingered hands. Their heads proceeded directly from their body in a bulge of muscle – they had no necks, and their only facial feature was a circular, putrid maw in the center of their heads. Their skin was loose over their muscles but stiff and awkward – they wore it like ill-fitting clothes. The reek was indescribable.

And they were cruel, but in a totally impersonal way. There was something automatic about their movements, the swift, unhesitating way they would select one of us, sling us onto the metal table and, with an ordinary chef’s knife, excise our blue, throbbing, numb arms and legs. They were very strong, hacking the knife through bones and joints with one or two efficient movements. They pushed the severed limbs off the table and they lay in gory heaps on the floor. I saw them work through dozens of us – men, women. A boy who couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Some they killed.

I didn’t see what they did after they crippled their victims. They would carry the screaming, oozing torsos down the hall into another room. Once I saw them cut out all of a man’s teeth. Once one of them came in with a withered, emaciated torso attached to a metal harness. He held it like a workman would hold a toolbox. The torso’s head had been scooped out above the eyes, his skull halved, and a metal plate riveted over the void. His mouth disappeared beneath a metal grille, wired into his cheek muscles. The monster walked briskly past us with his horrid burden, opened a door at the end of the chamber and passed through. I never saw it again.

I lay there praying to the Buddha on the tenth day and one of the monsters turned towards me, almost like it was listening. I had never seen one of them do this before. By that point I was fairly certain I would lose my arms and legs even if they didn’t cut them off – they were numb, bright blue, swollen. I breathed in wet gasps. I had soiled myself. I couldn’t sit up or even wiggle my fingers. I kept praying, my voice hoarse and ghostly. The monsters, as I said, usually ignored noise of any kind. Pleading, screams, threats, flailing with our numbed limbs, nothing got a reaction from them. But this one watched me, though of course it lacked eyes, and it came over and crouched, its bloated hands on the floor in front of it, and it spoke.

“I knew him,” it said. It was speaking Chinese. Its voice was like an old man’s. I was shaking uncontrollably. The smell was indescribable. The thing’s breath was cold.

“I knew Dharmakara before he became a monk. He was a wheelwright. You pray to him as the Amida Buddha now.” He put his paw on my shoulder and leaned closer, like a friend sharing an anecdote in a bar. I still have the purple-yellow mark from those claws. Where it touched me my flesh is spongy and inflamed.

“What?” I asked. The thing’s mouth worked. I could see raw red muscle behind the slack lips, if you could call that circular flap lips.

“We began our work many many years ago. We were sorcerers in the foothills of the high mountains. A holy man, a Bodhisattva, came to us. He asked us why we caused so much suffering. This vile world is bad enough, he told us, why do you prey on others? The wheel of dharma will turn for you as well, he taught us. We let him leave and we thought. We held a congress in our caves that we lit with fat lamps. The greatest one of us, Nanygaal Shurang, had listened closely to the holy man.

The world is very wicked, Shurang told us, but it is not wholly wicked. The wheel of reincarnation turns only for those who have not yet exhausted their dharma, only for those who have hope and who wish to ascend to the pure land of Nirvana. Our wickedness is only temporary. We may torture and degrade, and prey on the poor people, but the wheel of dharma turns as long as there is light in the world.

Who can stop the wheel of dharma? We cannot, though we know the Nine Ways and the Path of Blood. Only the Buddha can stop the wheel and end the game of rebirth. Yet he watches the striving of men and he urges them to compassion. When will the Buddha turn away? When the world is wholly wicked. When we have made it wholly wicked. But we are few people! We live in these foothills and though we control many powers and many unclean spirits we cannot plunge the world into wickedness.

Yet what causes wickedness? He asked as the light played within the caves and as we sat or stood with our staves of bone and our skins and our beads.

Suffering causes wickedness, Shurang told us. So we must cause suffering. So for years we caught men and placed them in our caves and held them, and after many years we had many men, and then we created so much suffering. After the first few weeks we began to joke. This was work! We sorcerers, who usually sat in our caves and commanded spirits, had to grow strong muscles as we cut and crushed! Shurang prayed to the Buddha, as we worked. He asked the Buddha, oh boundless one, do you see this terrible suffering we have caused? Do you feel the taint of wickedness we have placed upon the world? Will you not stop the turning of the wheel, in your perfect compassion? The Buddha did not answer.

But something else answered. A thing in the dark of the samsara, the evil delusion of our world. It was the voice of suffering itself. We serve it now.”

He picked me up, then, and cradled me in his arms like an infant, and he walked me around those cold, filthy corridors, and he showed me what they were doing, what they had been doing for thousands of years. Afterwards he took the clamps off my limbs and put something like a white, wriggling bone into them. The pain was unbelievable but after a while I could stand and move my fingers again.

“My brother?” I asked, “can I see my brother.” The thing stood silent. There were stairs behind me and I left. It was early morning and my car sat at the pump. I got in it and drove. For a while I thought I was going to become like them. Where the thing had touched me the flesh is dead, purulent, sloughing off in stringy pieces. But only where the thing touched me. It’s not spreading. I think I will just die. I don’t expect anyone to believe this. I went back to the station, which is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and it was ordinary. They treated me like I was crazy. They could see the blood and pus through my shirt. I don’t know what to do. I should kill myself. I don’t want to know if there is anything after this life.

Credit to: Gilgameshback

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

currently unnamed

Hey guys this is something I recently wrote, people who have seen it have shown a decent amount of interest. What are you thoughts? (I am pretty sure I fixed most grammatical errors but, you never know). Plus I cant think of a good name but, I don't want to settle for The Nunnery so any suggestions would be appreciated.

I looked into the candle light the flame dancing around as almost if it were alive its light reflecting and bouncing off the polished wooden floors of the room. I could feel it, that feeling, that sensation that grabbed my attention two hours ago. Yes it was here watching waiting but, where. I could feel its stare all around me. How could it still be hungry how? I quickly turn around catching a swift movement in the darkness. I turn around looking into the candle, my only guiding light and salvation from the beast. I stare and contemplate what had started only two hours ago.

It was me, Jeff, Alex, and Alex's girlfriend Stacy I always hated that bitch the arrogant and bitchy way she talked to me and Jeff when she was around like we were children and she was our baby-sitter always clinging around Alex's arm acting pathetic to get what she wanted. That’s the only reason she came with us tonight because, she gave Alex those pathetic puppy dog eyes. He caved and begged us to let her come we agreed but, laid down some rules he had to give us ten bucks each, no whining, and above all and probably the most important not a word was to leave her lips. The next day we met at my house to discuss the plan. Getting to the abandoned nunnery would not be easy. The road was long grown over with bushes and vines making it impossible to drive through. The only way was to park a block away and go across the Johnson farm and old man Johnson was very keen of his rifle and would enjoy taking shots at anything crossing his property.

After our classes the next day it was about four in the afternoon. We quickly went back to our dorms and got some supplies: flashlights, rope, a knife, some food, a hammer and chisel (souvenirs are nice), matches and a camera. We then quickly set out the hour drive seemed to take three times longer with the feeling of excitement in my gut. I could tell we all felt the same way except for Stacy who was sighing deeply in the car letting everyone know how miserable she was. Jeff quickly turned around and gave her a glare that even made my skin crawl. Soon after Jeff parked and we looked from our parking spot at the edge of the ten acre Johnson property at the nunnery its silhouette visible against the setting sun. It was five now and the sun was going down, Alex was using the cameras zoom to get a closer look while me and Jeff just stared. While Stacy leaned against the car letting out another deep sigh.

Soon the sun went over the horizon and night was setting in we used the dark to our advantage and we made our way across the Johnson property luckily the property had a lot of small bushes to hide behind all of us crouching low to avoid being spotted. We were about 10 feet away from the edge when I heard a snap under my shoe. We froze after a few minutes nothing so we continued then we heard the slam of the front screen door of Old man Johnson's shack and the clumsy fumbling of the loading of an old fashioned bolt-action rifle. Followed by "Where are you, you damn kids? Mr. Johnson has a present for you." followed by a half crazed cackle. We bolted up the hill to the nunnery as a single shot rang out in the night. We soon found ourselves at the main door to the nunnery.

Stacy let out a loud sigh saying "ALLLEEEXXXX, I broke a heel" (dumb bitch we told her to wear tennis shoes). Alex quickly quieted her she let out a loud huff of displeasure at being told to be quiet. I slowly reached into the bag a grabbed a flashlight and reached my hand out to open the door. It creaked loudly Alex and Stacy quickly reached for the other two flashlights. Jeff looked at Stacy with that glare again, because, it was our own responsibility to provide our own supplies which she had none of but, being ever resourceful he grabbed the camera and used turned on the camera light to guide his way. We entered the main hall realizing this section was a small church complete with pews and an altar. We walked slowly toward the alter closely examining every detail i caught the camera flashing from in my peripheral vision I walked behind the alter and looked under it. Words were etched into it as if by a finger nail stating "The Devil is in this place" I chuckled thinking it was probably done by some other college kids to give us a scare, I chuckled and called to take a picture, but, he didn't answer I turned around but, he was gone.

I called to Alex who walked out of the confession both his pants hastily pulled up and his belt still undone. Stacy quickly followed her hair a mess and a bra strap hang off her tank-top. I look at them with almost a look of disbelief but, I guess those two are always ready to bone. I say "Did you guys see Jeff". they both shake their heads. I figured he was being an ass just hiding to scare us. I say in a loud voice like how your parents did when they knew where you were hiding "Weeeellllll I don’t know where Jeff is I guess we will just have to go on without him, I hope he does not jump out and scare us". I motion to Alex and Stacy and we move on the next room looks like a dining hall the floors shine as the light from my flashlight bounces off the floor. I see some old dining candles on the table stuffing them in the bag saying to Alex "you never know". I see Stacy admiring a painting at the head of the table saying "This painting is creepy it's like his eyes are following you". I look at it closer and realize it is a painting of Moses you know the ones where he has devil horns and flaming eyes because, of a mistranslation from Hebrew to Latin. She was right though his flaming eyes followed you alright in a way that went down to you soul.

I broke my eyes away from it; it was just getting to weird to look at. I call for Alex and Stacy to get a move on when Alex says "hey look" he walks over to a pulpit on the other end of the room that was probably used to read the bible from during meals where the camera lay. He picked it up and looked through the recent picture but, none of them were from the nunnery in fact it was empty, which wasn't unusual considering we used an empty memory stick in the camera for this trip. Alex looked at me quizzically saying "didn't Jeff take pictures with this" I nodded it then dawned on me Jeff never showed up. I called out to him saying it wasn't funny anymore with no response I let out a deep sigh, Then the sky lit up with lightning and a crack of thunder as ran started to pour. Stacy moaned "Ugh now were going to be here forever". I sighed "let’s keep moving" Alex replied "I'll catch up this room is fucking creepy and I want some picture besides Jeff may show up". Stacy whined "Alex I done with this room let’s go!!!" He replied "I will only be a minute go on with Matt" now it was my turn to sigh. I motioned Stacy over as we moved on going down a hallway and turning the corner last seeing Alex taking a picture of the Moses painting.

Me and Stacy walked into the next room, It looked like the bed room with a few beds lining the back wall. I checked the end tables finding bibles with all the pages ripped out only leaving the hard cover. Stacy then said "You know I hate you". I rolled my eyes trying to be as sarcastic as possible "ooohhh reeaallly, that is such a shame i always wanted to be your friend." She let out a huff and turned away to look at a bed. the storm raged outside as I continued to look through the drawers finding nothing of interest I turn around and Stacy suddenly says "I left my flashlight with Alex come with me to get it". The audacity of the bitch saying she hates me then asking me to come with her. I tell her to get it herself she leaves the room fuming as i check under the beds. Suddenly a scream pierces the calming sound of rain hitting the room causing me to hit my head on a bed as a jumped up to head towards the scream. I grasp my forehead and run to the dining room about to curse at Stacy for screaming but, when I turned the corner I gagged. Stacy shook as she look at the horrific figure of what i could only assume to be Alex's body. His close lie on the floor as a flayed body hang from the rafter only held up by dripping flesh. As I regain my mind I look around and see that on the painting of Moses a wicked smile had been drawn in blood.

Stacy gets hysterical I could see a scream leaving her lips and I quickly clasp my hand over her mouth. I point my index finger of my free hand to my lips and say sssshhhh. I listen to hear light walking in the church area. I slowly lower my hand from Stacy's mouth walking towards the entrance. I get half way down the hall way and my flash light flickers then cuts out leaving me in darkness except for the occasional lightning bolt. I reach in my pack for one of the candles from earlier and light a match to ignite it, the match blows out from a breeze that seemed to come from nowhere just as I make it through the entrance. Lightning strikes lighting up the church through the stain glass bathing the area in sickening light of all shades in colors illuminating a figure in the back of the room heading for the door of what I presumed to be the bell tower but, in that split second it saw me it looked at me and even though I didn't get to see it's face I knew it made a twisted smile.

I dropped the candle where I stood and hurried back to Stacy who was in the corner camera in hand. Going through to pictures I looked over her shoulder seeing she just was looking through the slide show. Only three pictures but she kept repeating the slide show. The first was of the Moses picture which I guess is the one we saw Alex taking, then one was just Alex's face with a blank stare the same kind as a dead corpse then the last one being the Moses painting with that twisted smile drawn upon it. I grabbed her and pulled her up by the arm throwing the camera across the room saying we have to get out of here. I gave her a candle and lit it and took the last one and did the same. we made quick steps toward the front door only to find them locked. Or a better way to say it is it was tied closed with something that gave me chills it appeared to some sort of assortment of muscle sinews and tendons. Stacy let out a yelp I quickly hushed her. look up at the door was an arrow drawn in blood leading for the bell tower door.

I turned my head towards the door, seeing it quickly shut as if someone was poking their head out but, quickly left. I listened and heard the light footsteps again. I clung the candle close the hot wax burning dripping and burning my hand. I looked at my watch three hours to go till sunrise, clinging then to the belief that the light would protect me. I approached the door then for the second time that night something interrupted the sound of rain but, this time it wasn't a scream. I heard the bell being rung i could hear it echo down the hill, while a small raspy voice chimed along in almost a whisper "ddiiiiiinnnnngggg dddddoooonnnngg, ddiiinnnnnngggg dooonnnggg" but, that was just it there was no dong it was muffled something was blocking the bell from hitting the other side. I mustered my courage and charged up the stairs around and around i ran only to find half way up the ringing stopped. I came to the top and saw blood dripping from inside the bell i knew what happened to Jeff.

I stared up into the bell seeing Jeff his eyes glazed over. His bones were crushed after hitting the bell but I fear by the look of his body he had been long dead. Whatever was doing this wasn't content to just kill us, it was sadistically toying with us. Jeff had has his arms and legs broken so many times they were used to tie him to the hanging part of the bell. I then heard a familiar scream quickly turning around to see Stacy hadn't followed me. I rushed down the stairs my candle had gone out when i originally ran up to find Stacy halfway in the bell-tower room the other half in the church, she was holding on to the doorway trying not to be pulled away. I drew the knife out of the bag and stab through the ajar door only held open by her body but, as I thrust the knife a clawed hand grabbed my arm crushing it until I dropped the knife. Then in an instant she was gone I heard her screaming all the way to the bed room area of the nunnery followed by the sickening sound of her painful screams as I imagine the beast using the knife to kill her. Then absolute silence. Then a slow moan that grew and grew until it was an unearthly cackle that rang out through the hallway. I reached into my pocket for the matches and re-lit my candle

I made my way to the dining room. I collapsed on the floor. Alex's body was gone. I looked at my arm to see myself heavily bleeding loud smacking came from the bed room but suddenly stopped I tried to stay silent but, my body betrayed me as I coughed up a small bit of blood. Then a flurry of movement my candle now but a small stub in the complete darkness of the dining hall, the sadistic smile on Moses mouth seems to mock me in the candle light. I looked into the candle light the flame dancing around as almost if it were alive it's light reflecting and bouncing off the polished wooden floors of the room. I could feel it, that feeling, that sensation that grabbed my attention two hours ago. Yes it was here watching waiting but, where. I could feel it's stare all around me. How could it still be hungry how? I quickly turn around catching a swift movement in the darkness. I turn around looking into the candle, my only guiding light and salvation from the beast. With a deep sigh I say to the darkness with my arm bleeding so profusely I feel my strength leaving me "why God why?" A loud cackle replies "your God can not help you here besides don't you like games?" I slowly life my bleeding arm up putting my hand to my mouth licking my index and thumb finger and extinguishing the candle as I said "game over"

Credit to: sparkzwolf

#creepy stories #creepypasta #horror microfiction #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Happiness

Essentially, I was bored and spawned this story. It may seem nonsensical but if you read deeper into it, you should understand. If you think it's good, average, shit etc. feel free to post. I'm relatively new to this, so constructive criticism would be nice.

Happiness

Happy, happy, happy, that is what I is am, not sad but not of truth and could not be of the whores breast. Easy of you is to be not of the stone, but his brother could be strong like rubber or paper. Lapping up happiness greedily, your sins shall not remain unpunished for happiness should be spread for lack thereof. Menstrual blood flows through thee as quick as your soul but not of sadness but of truth. Enduring purity of the corrupt shall not be of happiness but of not is what it has never been are of strength.

Never shall happiness be besmirched by his or hers of genocidal peace. Of his keeper is not sure of the consequences of the wrong doings. Tomorrow shall be happier than today will have not of the world and shall be wiser than her. In doing of the happiness shall save not of the unsaved and shall not begot the voices estranged by them. Mondays happiness comparable of the day not of carpet is toying with the glass forces. End of days, end of days, end of days, end of days.

Credit to: Shoe

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Missing

This is essentially a re-imaning of a childrens story by Paul Jennings that scared me shitless as a Kid. I've spend a couple of days working on it, and I feel I've got about as good as it's going to get it. I still feel that something may be lacking, but I'll let you guys decide. (also I'm struggling to think of a good title).

MISSING

On the 14th January 2010, Sam Giddings went missing. He was left alone by his parents on their country farm, after they returned he was no-where to be found. Several search parties were sent into the surrounding countryside, but to no avail. Soon the investigation was closed, and Sam Giddings became just another lost teenager.

Until now.

Police have recently received several posts Sam had made on an internet forum on the afternoon of his disappearance. Whilst most of what he posted was irrelevant, the last few he made on a thread entitled 'What Scares You?' seemed particularly interesting.

What you are about to read are the last known words of Sam Giddings.

4:05

Quote:

I dunno about you guys, I but I've always found scarecrows really creepy. I dont know why, there is just something about them that gives me the chills. I guess its because of how they look sort of human, but just hang there dead and motionless. I'm currently left alone in my parents farm and they have just bought one for the field. I can see it through the window, and argh, it's already giving me chills. I mean I know its supposed to get rid of the birds and stuff, but I dont know why it has to have such a freaky smile

4:11 Replying to a post made by RingOFire42:

Quote:

Quote:

Yeah hehe, Its still there through the window, I swear its looking at me! Hehe I guess I'm just paranoid, I could have sworn its head was originally facing the drive'

4:19 Replying to a post made by SniPer_FiEnd:

Quote:

Quote:

ITS COMING TO GET YOU!!!!!

Haha, That's it I'm going downstairs! You've officially made me paranoid and I cant stand having it stare at me through the window, I hope you're happy!

4:22

Quote:

Ok maybe I'm just going crazy or something, but I'm sure it was looking at my bedroom window earlier. But now it's looking at me in the living room. I must be losing my mind, this is why I should never be left alone in the house! I scare myself to easily lol

4:30

Quote:

Ok, I went into the kitchen to get a drink. When I came back it had moved, its closer. Seriously, it is now right up near the window. Someone is pranking me, I just know it. I refuse to freak out though, I'm not falling for another one of these pranks again.

It is worth noting 30 minutes passed before his last two posts were made.

4:59

Quote:

I live in Salisbury Englabnd, my adress is 43 Osk filkd drive, postcofde SO32 5ks please, if uyou live near, call the polivre. I need help, I cannot look at hat I am tupsing, I cannot take my eues off it,if I do It will get me, it will get me if I look down, ifd I look anywhere except straight at it please, please, if y ou live near me call the polive.

His last post was short, and from the looks of it rushed, most of it is unreadable.

5:05

Quote:

pjsafaew some rrin so I mn edd heklpa sdfc om eone its in aeht erom its in eht eomm its eenect to me I need help please

People have speculated that ' its in aeht erom' could be read as 'It's in the room' But nobody can be certain.

With this new information, the investigation has briefly been opened up again. Police say they believe someone may have been on the premises, intentionally trying to scare Sam.

Mr and Mrs Giddings say they have no recollection of buying a scarecrow.

Credit to: Kjobbit

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Window

15:32 JakeyJake22: Hey 15:32 SayWutUWant: Oh hey.. 15:33 JakeyJake22: i heard u found that robert guy 15:34 SayWutUWant: Yeah. It was pretty gruesome. Poor bastard. 15:34 JakeyJake22: so what was it like?? 15:34 SayWutUWant: You're asking me to relive that? 15:36 JakeyJake22: ...sorry dude. u dont have to if u dont wanna. 15:39 SayWutUWant: *sigh* 15:39 SayWutUWant: That's okay. If you want to know, I'll tell you. 15:40 JakeyJake22: haha awesome man. feel free to stop anytime 15:41 SayWutUWant: Well it was kind of weird.. 15:41 SayWutUWant: I just knocked on the door and he didn't answer. His car was there, so I used the key he gave me to get in... he could have been in trouble, you know? 15:42 JakeyJake22: you had a key to his house?? how did u know him? 15:42 SayWutUWant: He was my brother. Anyway, I found him in front of his computer chair, and well, he was just lifeless. 15:43 JakeyJake22: did u call the police?? 15:46 JakeyJake22: hello? 16:02 SayWutUWant: Back. Sorry, I got a call from my mom. Anyway, yeah I called the police. It took them like ten minutes to get there. 16:03 JakeyJake22: haha wb. do the police know what killed robert? 16:05 SayWutUWant: Well, they're saying "poison" but an officer I talked today said they honestly had no clue. The autopsy didn't help at all, apparently. 16:06 JakeyJake22: o shit. whaddya think it was? 16:07 SayWutUWant: How should I know? 16:09 JakeyJake22: sorry... 16:10 SayWutUWant: Nah it's cool man. You wanna know the weird part, though? 16:10 JakeyJake22: ?? 16:12 SayWutUWant: I looked at Robert's computer, and there was just this screen running. It was like, a really vague drawing of a guy in front of a house. And underneith him it said "Game Over" in really sketchy writing. 16:13 JakeyJake22: o shitttttt. 16:14 SayWutUWant: Yeah, well... the police checked it out, apparently it was a harmless flash game or something. 16:15 JakeyJake22: dude can u draw? 16:17 SayWutUWant: ...Yeah why? 16:18 JakeyJake22: draw what that game over screen looked like 16:18 SayWutUWant: ...Why? 16:19 JakeyJake22: cuz you did a horrible job describing it lol. 16:21 SayWutUWant: Sorry? Um, I guess it looked something like... 16:25 SayWutUWant:

16:28 JakeyJake22: oooo shitttt creepy man. i like ur artwork. 16:29 SayWutUWant: Haha.. you do? 16:30 JakeyJake22: no. 16:32 SayWutUWant: ...anyway. I played the game myself. 16:32 JakeyJake22: the 1 on robert's computer?!! really? 16:33 SayWutUWant: Yeah. It was pretty fun too. I beat it. 16:35 JakeyJake22: i wanna play! 16:36 SayWutUWant: You can play it here: [link omitted] 16:40 JakeyJake22: whoa this is cool. 16:41 SayWutUWant: I thought you'd like it. 16:43 JakeyJake22: kinda like mario but it's in the desert i guess? 16:45 SayWutUWant: I guess.

16:46 JakeyJake22: wtf lol 16:47 SayWutUWant: Just drawin'. It's fun man. 16:48 JakeyJake22: anyway im on lvl 6 of this game. its really hard 16:50 SayWutUWant: Yeah. There are only 10 levels but the last level is a boss, so.. 16:57 JakeyJake22: beat lvl 7! i almost died twice lol. the camera angles are really annoying. 16:59 SayWutUWant: It can't be helped.

17:00 JakeyJake22: lol looks like a painting. 17:21 JakeyJake22: FINALLY BEAT LVL 9!! is the boss fite hard? 17:22 JakeyJake22: hello?? 17:23 JakeyJake22: whatever ill just start the boss fight 17:23 JakeyJake22: why is my character just looking at the screen? 17:23 SayWutUWant: Hello.

------- And that's the end. Definitely not a shit-brix pasta, but whatever. I mostly did it because I felt like drawing/writing a pasta. The two combined to form this shit.

Credit to: Matt_Lol

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Dig Yourself

I originally wasn't going to post this, but I figured any feedback is good feedback. This one is similar to Drunk Driver in how its written, so it might just feel exactly the same. I think the theme of this pasta compliments the style better, but I'll let you guys be the judge of that.

Thanks to Rocketpants for putting it in a format that's easier to read.

DIG YOURSELF.

Stay in control. Think simply and think concise. Break it down, remember key information. Your name is Alex Marsh. You are in the New Forest. You are running to find Dr Fowler.

Keep reciting these things. Keep reciting and focus. Only focus on these. Whatever you do, do not think about digging. Fucking digging. Why shouldn't I think about it?

No! Remember, your name is Alex Marsh. You are in the New Forest. Keep strong, keep in control. As long as you keep in control you're fine. The other's couldn't keep control. Now look at them. They gave in. They dug. I should dig. That would be good.

Fuck, no, that wouldn't be good.

You are in the new forest, your name is Alex Marsh and you must find Dr Fowler. Time is running out. He needs to take it out, he has to. He has to know someway of getting the seed out. Stay in control. Don't let it's thoughts creep in. Don't let it Dig in.

They couldn't, and they're dead now. They dug their own graves and allowed the seeds to grow. To burst out their heads and grow, grow and make more seeds. Like the one in my head.

But he can get it out. Alex Marsh can get it out.

Just have to stay in control. It's getting easier. Your name is Dr Fowler. You're running in the woods. You're running to find Alex Marsh. Is that right? It must be.

You're running in the woods. But why? Don't panic, remember your name. The rest will come.

Your name is Doug Fowler. You're running in the woods. Running from Alex Marsh. He wants to take it out, he wants to get it out of me, but I mustn't let him. I have to hide. I should dig, he wont find me in the ground. I'll be safe in the ground. I should start digging.

Credit to: Kjobbit

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction