File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Hey /b/,

I don't feel like sleeping anyway. Please shit me up.
>> Anonymous
They say that somewhere in western America, some say in Utah, others say on the California coast, there's a small motel on the side of the road.

When you go inside, it's decorated in very common hotel attire, with the panelling and old fashioned key-lock doors.

The thing is, there's a room in there for everybody. Everybody has a reservation for exactly when they show up, and the number of rooms available is always one more than the number of people there. One person to a room, that is the rule.

Some say that the song "Hotel California" is based off this motel, though you *can* leave this particular motel.

I wouldn't advise looking at a mirror for at least a month after doing so, though.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48392705

not bad
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I'd hit this so hard, it would take the future king of England to pull me out.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Postmortem photography, anyone?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
moar
>> Anonymous
The next time you're alone in your room, turn down the lights. Think of something on your body that varies in length, such as hair. It must be clearly viewable from your perspective. Grab a ruler and, looking in the mirror, quickly grab a hair at random; you must confuse it. Hold it in position as best you can and note the length. Look down. Yours will be different.

Don't look back up.

Don't turn your back to that mirror ever again.
>> Anonymous
Open your closet, don't turn on the light. Make sure you have one match with you. Step inside and close the door. If the lights are on outside of the closet this will not work. Nor will it work if it is daylight. The only room you need is enough for slight mobility.

Stand in the darkness for about two minutes, since that's all that's needed. Now, take the match and hold it in front of you and say, "Show me the light or leave me in darkness." If you begin hearing whispers light the match immediately. If you don't hear anything, and the match doesn't ignite on it's own then don't turn around. If you light the match too late or not at all after hearing whispers, something will grab you from behind and pull you into what seems like a forever fall into darkness.

If you do manage to light the match in time and nothing happens after, open the door slowly and get out, then close the door but do NOT look inside. From then on, never look inside your closet without the light on at all. Some say if you leave your closet open during the night you can see the demon watching you with two red eyes that glow like matches.
>> Anonymous
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" sex dolls to expectant virgins. But apparently after the virgin had his one night stand the sex doll would start crying. Eventually the "fucking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without punching it. Eventually when it started crying the boy would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the sex doll up permanently was to bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report woman abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of a hooker smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the boy couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a sex doll-shaped bundle in her arms.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48392705
Yes. Because most people randomly take snapshots of their bathrooms. During these frequent, yet random photo sessions, there is usually a sterotypical alien standing in the window. This alien is sure to stay in the window long enough to make sure the photographer takes the shot of him, then he is no where to be seen. Very scary.
>> Anonymous
Somewhere in NYC there is an old homeless man missing both his legs from the knees down who is always sitting at the corner of Lexington and East 21st, near Granmercy Park. Approach him after nightfall and ask him, "So what did you see on the other side?" He will then tell you all about his travels to other realms and times. It is up to you whether to believe him or not, but as you listen you'll find yourself being drawn in with every story, every minute. You must stay alert, and before midnight you must interrupt him (do NOT let him finish whatever story he's telling you at the moment) and say "I've heard enough, old man. Good day and good luck", then walk away. Make at least two left-hand turns around the block before looking around and going about your business. You must do this, because anyone who has stayed to listen past midnight is never seen again, at least not on this plane of existance.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, un-moving.

At this point he was confused and a little freaked out. He went to the front desk and asked the lady about the room. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and the lady said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which are red."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48393596
shit /b/rix every time.
>> Anonymous
>>48393596
that freaked me out the first time i read it
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48393596

my favourite one
>> Anonymous
You know that ringing sound that you will perceive when you are in a very quiet area? Some people say this is an auditory-illusion brought about the ear's inability to detect frequencies below the threshold of the human senses. This is completely wrong. That ringing covers up something else altogether. If you are quick, patient, and maybe a little lucky, you will be able to hear past the ringing. What you will hear are voices whispering to each other. They will silence themselves quickly but with practice, you will become more adept at catching and interpreting what they are saying. You will hear things of the past, the present, and the future. However, you must be careful. Because there is no such thing as a voice without a body.

And when you start noticing them, they will start noticing you.
>> Anonymous
A 15-year old boy in a small town in Maryland sat down at his computer after getting home from school one day. He turned it on and logged into an instant messaging program, and was then suprised to receive a message from a classmate of his, who had been absent that day.

It consisted of two words; "please come". Confused, the boy sent a reply, asking why he'd been absent that day. After two more messages and fifteen minutes with no response, he decided to get on his bike and head over to his classmate's house. It was a short ride, only about five minutes away.

When he got to the house, he found the door was unlocked. Inside, partially dried blood was splattered over the walls and floors, and an unrecognizable figure was crumpled against the far wall. It was missing an arm and a leg, and bloody streaks on the floor lead away from the body and into the kitchen. The boy slammed the door closed, and immediately called 911 on his cell phone.

When the police arrived, they found three corpses, as well as tracks leading away from the house from the back door. The forensics report concluded that the entire family, the boy's classmate and his parents, had been killed sometime the previous night.
>> Anonymous
POAST FUCKING MOAR
>> Anonymous
gg anon you're giving me the chills keep it up
>> Anonymous
>>48392596
oh shit, spooky
>> Anonymous
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not, sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
>> Anonymous
This is a story of a place called The "Dick Attic". How it all started, no one knows but what we do know is how it earned it’s name.

Several years ago a boy of about nine years old took a stroll down by the woods. Just as he approached the forest he noticed an old abandoned mansion which people often spoke rumors of. It was supposedly haunted. The child didn’t believe in such claims and thought of superstition as garbage. So he said to himself "I’m gonna prove these fools wrong, ill just stay the night there and when day breaks, I’ll come out and laugh at everyone".

That night at around nine, he came to the house accompanied by his dog, a flashlight, and a blanket. Once he found the bedroom he went straight to sleep.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48394199Continued...

In the middle of the night at around one, the child had awoken to the sound of his dog barking. He said "What is it Max?" Suddenly he recognized a sound coming from the attic. "Psssss-Pssss-Pssssssss" He thought nothing of it, that it was just the rustling of the autumn leaves outdoors so he quickly returned to sleep.

Another hour had passed and the same sound had awoken the duo, but this time it was louder. The boy once again attempted to ignore it and returned to sleep yet again.

The third time, he had awoken to the same sound, however his dog was gone. He thought the dog may have ran out of fear, but about now was the time he inspected the origins of the noise.
>> Anonymous
There is a creature that stands at closed doors.

One day, it will be there when you open the door.
>> Anonymous
>>48394143
BEST ONE (imo)
>> Anonymous
>>48392705
god damit...bricks were shat
>> Anonymous
>>48394143
Your COCK glows red in the darkness.

what i read anyway.
>> Anonymous
>>48394143
oh shit.
>> Anonymous
>>48394334
bricks were shat
>> Anonymous
>>48394308Continued...

After walking for what seemed to be a minute, he finally approached the mansions attic door where the noise was at its loudest. He entered the attic and the first thing he saw in the light center of the room was his dog with no pulse and completely immobilized. All of its vital signs have vanished. The boy froze with fear, never before had he been so terrified.
>> Anonymous
>>48394400
this is already stupid, just stop please.
>> Anonymous
>>48394400Continued...

Finally, the sound had revealed itself. No longer was it just a suspicious "hiss" but rather a giant seven foot ghostly Phallus. What the GiantPENISsoon did to the boy… is unspeakable.

A few weeks later, the boy’s family had sent out a search team to locate the boy. When the Police found the corpses, they were able to conclude that the boy and his dog drowned on dry land, with every orifice torn, pumped, and filled with fluids
>> Anonymous
>>48394447

GTFO narb.
>> Anonymous
In the winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee. The medic made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before But never had he made them while this short on supplies. The bombardment moved to other starts of the line, and most men dropped off to sleep in the dark, still hours of the morning - New Year's Day, 1945. The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, yet there had been no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood. The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, and tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal that all of his skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body was almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial. None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
>> Anonymous
>>48393295

>Somewhere in NYC
>sitting at the corner of Lexington and East 21st, near Granmercy Park.

hmmm... i see a problem...

waiter, there's a hair in my copypasta!
>> Anonymous
creepypasta more like crappypasta amirite?
>> Anonymous
>>48394546
that's not a hair, that's yourPENIS.
>> Anonymous
There was this couple in Scotland who had just moved into an old castle. When they moved in, they decided to empty out the wine cellar and found this large barrel of brandy. They tried moving it and even got a few friends around to help, but they couldn't budge it. In the end, they decided to have a housewarming party and give glasses of brandy out to empty the barrel and make it easier to move. A few days after the party, they went into the cellar and tried to move the barrel again. It still wouldn't move. The husband went to get his saw in order to cut it into smaller pieces and in turns they cut off the top of the barrel. Inside was a dead body and they had drank the brandy that had preserved it.
>> Anonymous
Don't turn around.

It doesn't like being watched.
>> Anonymous
This is not a random post. This is not a coincidence. I put this here because I know that right now you will be reading it. No one can see this post except for you.

There is a monster in your home. It is there right now and it is waiting to kill you. It will kill you tonight. I can save you.

Go to a mirror. Any mirror. That in there, that's me. Turn off all the lights except for the dimmest one; too much light screws it up. Take your arms, put them straight out, and put them up against mine, through the glass. Do your best to rlax, and when you are ready, close your eyes. Count to three and then I will pull you through to safety. We can work out what to do next once you're in.

Again, this is not a random post. It is for YOU. You need to do this before the next hour turns or you will die.

I'm waiting.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48394475
>>48394400
>>48394308
>>48394199
That was so terrible, I think it gave me cancer.
>> Anonymous
At 12:17 am, on any given night, arises the opportunity to awaken an alternate soul. The most common way of viewing them? Through a mirror.

It is through said medium that the process must take place. Begin at exactly midnight. By no light but that of a single candle, stand before the selected mirror. For ten minutes you must concentrate in silence, focused entirely on your reflection. Do not look away from the eyes; for it will be interpreted as weakness and you will be overcome.

After ten minutes have passed you must draw blood to smear in a line across the eyes of your reflection. Doing so will blind it, and you will watch as your own features begin to warp. Slowly, gradually, they will mutate into a frightening creature--one beyond the comprehension of those who have not experienced it. You must not look away through the entirety of the change.

Soon the writhing movements of the image will cease. By now an echoing, inhuman sound will resound all around you--the creature will begin to ease toward the mirror's glass. You must keep watching as it approaches.

If you do not extinguish the candle at exactly 12:17, the creature will escape.

Be warned, should you succeed; through any polished surface--be it mirror, wood, or window--your reflection will always be watching.
>> Anonymous
>>48394833

HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE NOT THE MONSTER TRYING TO GET ME TO LET YOU THROUGH INTO MY REALM AND KILL ME AND TAKE MY PLACE YOU ASSHOLE
>> Anonymous
>>48394927

Dood what are you talking about? I don't see anything in that post
>> Anonymous
>>48394953
FUCK DUDE. i just had to turn my closet lights on. my stomach dropped when i read the "there is a monster in your home" it's so simple you wouldn't think it'd be scary, but shit man...
>> Anonymous
In 1938, over 6,000 patients were checked into mental hospitals all across America within one week of each other. Reports of similar instances supposedly came from Europe and Asia as well. The circumstances of each patient were, eerily, identical.

Every patient completely shut down, shivering in the corner until their family, unable to calm or care for the individuals, committed them.

The only thing the patients would say was: "There is not, and never has been, such a thing in this world as a meaningless coincidence."
>> Anonymous
>>48395071
FIXED: In 1938, over 9,000 patients were checked into mental hospitals all across America within one week of each other. Reports of similar instances supposedly came from Europe and Asia as well. The circumstances of each patient were, eerily, identical.

Every patient completely shut down, shivering in the corner until their family, unable to calm or care for the individuals, committed them.

The only thing the patients would say was: "There is not, and never has been, such a thing in this world as a meaningless coincidence."
>> Anonymous
Don't close the curtains or the blinds.

It wasn't a figment of your imagination.
>> Anonymous
>>48392705

Is there something scary in this pic? I'm too pussified to keep looking for the shitbrix.
>> Anonymous
>>48395142

I see what you did there.
>> Anonymous
If you stand alone at the corner of Church St. and Market St. in Charleston, South Carolina at 3 AM, you see a man coming down Church St. wearing a black hat and black cape with stringy white hair and weathered skin. He'll stop at one of the two corners directly across from where you are standing and start to walk the corner directly opposite from where he is standing. When he reaches about halfway (dead center of the intersection) and nobody else has arrived, he'll stop, turn, and look directly at you.

If you do not blink for roughly 20-30 seconds he'll tip his hat to you and walk along his way, disappearing into the dark shadows of the trees that line the streets. Nobody knows what happens if you follow him.

If you do blink before he tips his hat, the very first thing you will see is the man standing directly in front of you. He'll grin maliciously at you and draw a blade hidden in the shaft of the cane and slash you across your throat, but you will not feel a thing. You will, however, pass out and remain in a comatose state until the sun rises over the horizon.

For the next six nights, you will have a recurring dream of the man walking down the street, appearing suddenly before you, and slashing your throat. On the seventh night, the events will replay the same up until he stops in the middle of the intersection. At this point, he'll say, "It's been fun playing with you, boy, but now it's time for you to go. Don't ever let me see you again." He'll then tip his hat and walk away before you wake up.

Nobody knows what happens if you visit the corner a second time.
>> Anonymous
>>48394927
what are you talking about? he didnt post anything...
>> Anonymous
>>48394927
The hell? What monster? That's a dead/deleted post link.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Am I the only one here who isn't ever fazed by this sort of thing..? Come on you magnificent /b/astards, make me shit brix. I know you have it in you Anonymous.

Hopefully pic will be related after reading moar.
>> Anonymous
On the underside of your refrigerator there is a switch. Reach under there and feel for it. Don't mind the dust clumps and the roaches. You'll know it when you feel it, it's a hard metal tab sticking out of a slot in the plastic underside. I will be set on the righthand side (when you're facing the fridge). If you switch it to the left, nothing will happen. Your appliances will continue to run, the floor won't open into a swirling vortex that leads directly into the deepest circle of hell. You won't even hear a hitch in the hum of the refrigerator. You will get up and brush off and go about your business, you may move out of your apartment and leave the refrigerator behind, switch set to the left like it doesn't even matter.

When you die, five years later, the fingers, toes, and eyes of an unidentified person will be found in your stomach.
>> Anonymous
On the internet, there is a message board. Occasionally, someone will post a thread asking for generally creepy stories. These threads are usually long and contain a lot of entertaining reading.


However, occasionally someone will enter the thread and post only an 8-digit number that if read, will give you a specific recurring nightmare for three nights.


In this nightmare, you visited in your sleep by a man with a very curious smile. During these visits, he performs unspeakable acts. And repeats a phrase over and over again. This phrase is different each night.


At the end of these three nights, the events of one of the stories posted in the thread will happen to you.


It is said also that if you dial this 8-digit number into a payphone at exactly 2:30 AM, a voice with no discernable gender will answer and tell you all of the great secrets of eternity.
>> Anonymous
58767534
>> Anonymous
>>48395461
>>48395552
A one-two hit of pure, unadulterated, not-frightening in any way, MASSIVE FUCKING FAGGOT FAIL.
Not even EFG fails that hard.
>> Anonymous
8, 6, 7, 5, 3-0-9
>> Anonymous
In any city with a cold enough climate to snow, you can find the man that ghost hunters call the "Wise Hobo."

The night after a snow heavy enough to bury the local grasses, get a bottle of the hardest liquor you can find and a few doses of the illegal drug of your choice and get in your car at 3AM and head to the busiest intersection in your city. Main St. and 1st, or whatever it is. You have until sunrise. Once there, start heading north and keep an eye out for parking lots. The bigger the parking lot, the more likely the Wise Hobo will be there. Keep an eye out for a man skulking near the storefront, or dumpster diving. He looks like any normal homeless person. However, he will not ask you for change, he will not turn to greet you, in fact he will not even acknowledge your presence unless you walk up with the liquor in one hand and say "Damn cold, ain't it?" as though the two of you were old friends. He will spin around and, after a moment of wild shock, smile jovially. "Damn right." He will reply. "Let me have the heater, huh?" Give him the bottle of liquor and he will proceed to drink it on the spot. The drunker he gets, the better. Keep him talking until the bottle is at least half gone, then say "Hey, I had a question for you." He will straighten up and say "You know the price for questions." This is where you must produce the illegal drug doses. If he nods, you have brought enough, and you may ask him any question and he will answer you fully and honestly. You may ask for tomorrow's jackpot lottery numbers, you may ask for the name and location of your true love, you may ask how and when you will die or anything else, and the Wise Hobo will tell you everything.
>> Anonymous
As you read this, understand that I too am one of you, that all humans are linked through some sort of indecipherable cosmic force that is beyond any of our comprehension, no matter how 'evolved' we truly believe we are.

"Inspiration," "Creativity," and the like are all figments of our imagination. Know this, because I have been given a specific piece of information that I was instructed to relay to as many people as possible, unveiling the truth behind our "eureka" moments.

Within each of us, lies an unimaginable wealth of information that lies at our fingertips, yet these "information bubbles," aptly named, are floating in a cosmos within each of us, and when two related pieces of information collide, like a puzzle, they come together and we experience what we know as "enlightenment," or "discovery."

What I am here to tell you, is that everything that we have ever created, or have comprehended, or invented, has already happened, and anything you do has already pre-existed in an alternate realm somewhere. With that being said, I have one last piece of information to relay to you:

Those monsters and demons that you only see on television, in the movies, or even in your computer games...

>> Anonymous
>>48395813

Beware, however. Asking a question of the Wise Hobo bonds his restless spirit to your existence. From that day on, he will come to you every snowy evening asking for his due. You must repeat the payment of drugs you gave him on your first meeting, plus some 'interest' that the Wise Hobo determines himself. Nobody precisely knows what happens when you cannot pay.

But, considering all the overnight successes and big lottery winners that get thrown into asylums or commit suicide shortly before the locals start talking about the weird homeless guy in the snowy grocery store parking lot...maybe that's for the best.
>> Anonymous
There are stories about a certain kind of hitchhiker - they only ever appear at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in the very edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always with an expression of deep despondency on their faces, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants, usually with gloves. If you stop, they will seem cordial enough, polite, but hardly chatty. They will assure you that the next town or city along your route will be a fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you try killing them.

They die easily enough. But look underneath their clothes, and you will see that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming repeating patterns that are unsettling to look at, and even more unsettling in the context of their skin. They have no wallets, no identification. If you slice their belly open, however, they're different inside. There's no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing a single object. The object varies. Examples include a single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes nobody could ever decipher. A diamond gem with fractal edges that slice bare flesh to ribbons. A small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of the ocean and is always damp...

Once you possess a hitchhiker's object, you'll find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You'll never mean to, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing a second one will hum quietly in your head. You'll strain to catch sight of a figure appearing in your headlights, try to resist the impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you won't. You'll try telling yourself that this is just a normal person on an adventure, someone who ran out of petrol. The logical part of your brain will scream at what you're doing. You'll smile and nod and they'll get into the car and you'll slowly, casually, reach under the seat or across to the glove box...
>> Anonymous
>>48395813Fix'd

In any city with a cold enough climate to snow, you can find the man that ghost hunters call the "Wise Hobo."

The night after a snow heavy enough to bury the local grasses, get a bottle of the hardest liquor you can find and a few doses of the illegal drug of your choice and get in your car at 3AM and head to the busiest intersection in your city. Main St. and 1st, or whatever it is. You have until sunrise. Once there, start heading north and keep an eye out for parking lots. The bigger the parking lot, the more likely the Wise Hobo will be there. Keep an eye out for a man skulking near the storefront, or dumpster diving. He looks like any normal homeless person. However, he will not ask you for change, he will not turn to greet you, in fact he will not even acknowledge your presence unless you walk up with the liquor in one hand and say "Damn cold, ain't it?" as though the two of you were old friends. He will spin around and, after a moment of wild shock, smile jovially. "Damn right." He will reply. "Let me have the heater, huh?" Give him the bottle of liquor and he will proceed to drink it on the spot. The drunker he gets, the better. Keep him talking until the bottle is at least half gone, then say "Hey, I had a question for you." He will straighten up and say "You know the price for questions." This is where you must produce the illegal drug doses. If he nods, you have brought enough, and the Wise Hobo will lean in close and whisper in your ear "Fuckin' v&, bitch. Hope you like black cock!"
>> Anonymous
People think treasure hunting is a thing of the past, of stories and novels. Something only pirates and Indiana Jones do.

They're wrong. Treasure hunting is a real profession. I know because I'm one. I'd never tell you in person, though. Treasure hunters have a tendency to...disappear if they talk too much.

Do you ever wonder where the inspiration for the horrid ghouls and twisted demons of 'fantasy' comes from? How many of them are just too coherent to be nightmares? Yeah. Me and my colleagues.

Treasure abounds in the dark corners of the earth. Gold. Silver. Information. But ghosts are the least of your worries when you're unearthing the real valuables of life.

But, /b/, I am now an old man. I won't say how old, because it will help those THINGS find me faster. I'm done with my life, and I'm ready to die. Before I go, though, I want to unburden my soul from the things I've seen and done in my line of work.

>> Anonymous
>>48395731
i lol'd
>> Anonymous
Somewhere in the world, there is a collection of books. Perhaps it's in a dusty, unpainted shelf in the back corner of someone's attic, perhaps it's in a set of musty boxes in the basement of some tiny, obscure library. It contains a few hundred volumes, all handwritten, ranging from leatherbound volumes with yellowing pages two hundred years old through to modern spiral-bound notebooks. All of them are diaries, some by famous people, some by not-so famous people, but all by the most horrific madmen and murderers the world has ever known. And the collection is growing. For if you ever find it, you will hear a faint scratching sound, coming from the newest volume of the set. This volume will be new, and filled with blank pages, except for the first. On this first page, you will find the beginning of your own diary, written in your own hand.
>> Anonymous
>>48396360

age old questions
Holy Grail, Longinous, GO!
Dont you dare say that Bastard Shirou has the grail.
>> Anonymous
There is this house on the other side of town, abandoned, so kids at my school who were a grade above me told myself and my friends that it was Haunted!

I recall in my childhood my friends and I, having conquered every obstacle there was, we wanted a challenge, and this strange house on the lonely outskirts of the town was something we couldn't resist. But sadly we chickened out every time as we approached it under the blanket of darkness, away from scrutinising eyes.

So now, 15 years later I am older and more mature, and I've rounded the old 'gang' in order to conquer this unconquered challenge. Leaving my house at midnight, I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought, "Nah, forget it. Yo home to Bel-Air!"

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabby yo holmes smell ya later
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
>> Anonymous
>>48396966
The Grail? Yeah, I guess I should have figured that would be the first thing you all ask about.

Well, settle in, /b/. The old guy's got a story to tell.
>> Anonymous
>>48397099

You fail. Other posters have already raised the bar with more intricate and thought-out Bel-Airs than you in this thread. Your attempt feels weak and tacked-on. Choke on a dick, plox.
>> Anonymous
>>48393596
lol this was based on a ghost story in our school
>> Anonymous
The Grail, of course, started out in the Middle East. After the death of Christ, it migrated northward, into Turkey. Finally ended up in what's now known as Istanbul.

There's something you have to understand about Istanbul; the place is a god damned hotbed of horrors. Half of the reason they renamed it from Constantinople was because there were so many fucking wraiths that identified with Constantinople that it was just too dangerous to have the trappings of the old city anymore.

The Grail itself didn't help that any. You'd think a relic of such 'holiness' would mean there'd be peace around. Hah.

So, /b/, have you ever been so angry, so hateful, so blindly furious, that you almost feel as though you could project your hate and anger outward and it could take form? That happens sometimes--especially when someone dies in hate. Every last person who was falsely executed for being a Christian is like that...and the Grail is their focus.

Grabbing a beer. It kind of hurts to remember. Stay with me, /b/.
>> Anonymous
The Grail isn't all the holy and righteous thing you think it is. It started out that way, but, time's got something of a way of perverting everything. Have you ever been so angry, so furious, so hateful that you almost feel like you could project your shade out to fulfill your rage? A lot of people die like that. That's how a hate-shade is made. And every person who was falsely executed for being a Christian became one. Their focus? You guessed it--the Grail.

The Grail itself was recovered in 1769. I wasn't there in person but...thanks to a tradition among us Treasure Hunters, I might as well have been.

The Grail itself was entombed in one of the catacombs underneath Istanbul, in Turkey. How it got there is another story altogether. It was one of the few times when Hunters worked in a team. There were 3 of them.

Grabbing a beer. Kind of hurts to remember. Hang with me, /b/.
>> Anonymous
http://www.freewebs.com/thekingofwolves/index.htm#111340481

Enjoy, if you havent read these before.

Holder of the End

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

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

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

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

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

That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never.
>> Anonymous
>>48397723
Holder of the Beginning

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of the Beginning". A small smile will work its way over the persons mouth, almost seeming to say, "You fool.”

You will be taken down a hallway, seemingly leading out into a place it shouldn't. This place will seem to exist nowhere in the institution, but it will. The hall will be silent, even if you try to make noise. Screams will die before leaving your mouth, footsteps will be muffled. Your guide will simply point to the door.

If you enter, you will find a cozy room, full of a pleasant, though unidentifiable, perfume. There will be a pretty lady sitting, holding nothing. No sounds will be made in this room, no matter how hard you try, except for one question. "Why were they separated?" The lady will then explain, in detail, the reason. It will be every horrific event in history, every beating, every war, and every rape. Everything. Then, all will fall silent. It is up to you to do what you will with this information. That lady is Object 2 of 538. It is up to you if they should be joined or not.
>> Anonymous
>>48397750
Holder of Eternity

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Eternity". A sigh might escape the worker as they look upon you with the utmost pity. They will take you down a flight of stairs into what should be the basement of the building, and yet isn't.

As you press deeper and deeper into this under layer of the institution a chorus of screams will begin to be audible. Softly at first, as if from a great distance, but the closer you get to the end of the hallway, the louder it becomes until it drones so loud that it seems to consume all other noises, until you begin to claw at your own ears in pain. The worker will show you a door, covering both their ears. As swift as they can, they will unlock the door and run, leaving only you in this cramped, dark hallway.

This is your last chance to run. If you decide to continue, and open the door then the piercing wail will end abruptly, leaving your ears ringing. The room is coated in an almost tangible, all-consuming darkness but for the far end of the room. There, manacled to the wall is an emaciated figure, covered in raw lashes. He stares directly at you, with a grin plastered to his face despite festering wounds and a scalpel still half-protruding from his chest. Now is your only chance to save yourself, and the only way is to ask "Who created them?”

He will cackle, in a manner befitting the death throes of an animal before responding. His tale will be the most horrific tale you have ever heard, beyond such primitive concepts such as pain and death, into the very essence of wrong. Of evil.

It is up to you to end this man's life, to release his terrible burden. Remove the scalpel, and he will shudder once in agony before falling silent forever.

That scalpel is Object 3 of 538. It is up to you if the rest should be protected or destroyed.
>> Anonymous
>>48397773
Holder of Nothing

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Nothing". Should a look of sheer, primal disgust mar the workers expression, you will then be taken to a separate building, which appears to be an old, wooden outhouse. Inside will be a seemingly endless corridor far, far longer than the length of the outhouse.

There will be no sound in the corridor. Attempting to make any at the wrong time is a grievous, grievous mistake. You will notice the lights in the corridor get brighter and brighter as you make your way down towards the end, becoming nearly blinding. If at any point the lights go out, QUICKLY shout out "No! Stop! What you are doing is wrong!" while backing away. If the lights do not come back on, bolt for the door you came in through. It should still be open and hopefully you aren't far enough down the hallway for them to close it on you. If they manage to close it, hell itself would be preferable to what you will suffer.
>> Anonymous
>>48397810
If the lights come back on, return to walking forward down the corridor. Upon reaching the cell, the worker will open the door for you while glaring at you in disgust. Inside the cell will be a mad pastiche of colors, arranged in several harlequin-like formations. You must not be distracted by them; for at the center of a room is a naked young woman, slathered in blood and bound by strips of human sinew. If you take your eyes off her even for a moment, she will destroy you utterly. She will only respond to one question. "What were they when they were one?"

She will then stare into your eyes, and speak the answer in incredible detail. It will be unlike anything you have ever heard and you will be on the verge of both ecstasy and agony at her mere words. It is not uncommon for most to lose themselves in the euphoria. The worst thing you can do, however, is look upon the tattoo on her chest. It will pull at your mind to gaze upon it, but you mustn't. If you do, you will be hers.

She will flay you alive and add your mutilated flesh to her bindings, and you will remain trapped with her, fully conscious, for the rest of time.

That tattoo is object 4 of 538. They desire to be one again. But they mustn't.
>> Anonymous
Please don't muddy the thread with holder crap. They're just lame...
>> Anonymous
nothing in this thread freaks me out. fucking pansies
>> Anonymous
>>48397829
Holder of Light

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, close your eyes and ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Light”. You will be guided to a single door leading to a long winding hallway. You will be told to open your eyes. The hallway will be complete darkness, narrow enough only for you to feel the walls and navigate yourself forward.

If at any moment along the way the lights should come on, shut your eyes immediately and quickly make your way back to the door you came in. If your eyes stay open for more than a second, what you see will force you to instinctively tear them out.

If the lights stay off however, you will make your way to the end of the hall and another door. If there is a light from under the door leave immediately, what you came for is not there. If there is no light from under the door, carefully turn the handle and enter.

The room will be completely dark, aside from the lone candle in the center. What little light it brings reveals an outline of a cloak hovered over it. The man underneath the cloak is completely still. If you say anything, the man will tear out your eyes and devour your soul, and you will be forced to take his place under the cloak for the rest of eternity. There is only one question that the man will respond to, “What can protect us from them?”
>> Anonymous
>>48397881
If you proceed to ask this question, a piercing scream will ring out from the candle and a series of lights will illuminate the room, revealing the images of the most horrifying thoughts, fantasies and memories from all consciousness throughout history. Most people cannot handle this event, and will go insane or die instantly. However, if you should somehow manage to survive this, the man in the center of the room will rise slowly and put his hands to your head. You will be forced to look at his face. His face appears young, with the exception of two large cavities where his eyes once where. At this point you must not look away or you will be forever forgotten in time. He will then open your hand and place a small, round object into your right hand. You will be left feeling no pain, but the horrifying images will be burned into your memory for all eternity.

The eye you hold in your hand is object 5 of 538. The awakening has begun; they must not be brought together.


And that's all I'm poasting, as there's a shit ton of them and the first one i posted has the url in it. Not particularly scary, but creepy and interesting no doubt.
>> Anonymous
>>48397723
What really bothers me about these is I have to go to a bunch of the SAME FUCKING PLACES.

Can I go to the same halfway house and ask for all of this shit or what? Spread it out, ffs
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item#: SCP-173
Special Containment Procedures: Item SPC-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container.
Description: Moved to Site19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spraypaint. SCP-173 is animate extremely hostile.
The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking.
Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personal are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.

Personnel report sounds of scraping stone originating from within the container when no one is present inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behaviour should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.

The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.
>> Anonymous
Close your eyes and listen to the world around you.

Open them and see that the world has no magic or evil beasts or aliens or any of that garbage. Our imagination is a great thing to create things, but imagining monsters are real is just a waste.

You then remember the real monsters in this world -- the fucking human race, working to make your life a living hell. That's what you need to be afraid of, /b/.

/thread fucking over.
>> Anonymous
We are all aware that the senses can be deceived, the eyes fooled. But how can we be sure our senses are not being deceived at any particular time, or even all the time? Might I just be a brain in a tank somewhere, tricked all my life into believing in the events of this world by some insane computer? And does my life gain or lose meaning based on my reaction to such solipsism?
--Project PYRRHO, Specimen 46, Vat 7 (Subject termination advised)
>> Anonymous
>>48397719
LOL U COMIN' BACK?
>> Anonymous
>>48397430
The run started out easily enough. They took the stairs in the back of a mosque down into the catacombs. The door into the inner catacomb was hidden by a real amateur, so they found that easily enough. Turns out, though, that the reason it was an amateur was because he was the only sucker they could get to come that close to the Grail.

Put yourself there, /b/. The stone door swings open with a quiet rasp of granite on granite...then there's the deafening wail of a hate-shade as it boils toward you, a vaguely humanform blood red mist with wicked looking claws. When they sink those damn claws into you...it feels like every drop of blood in your body is going to boil straight out of your arteries. That's what happened to one of them. He died with a hate-shade clawing at him, his face contorted in fury without a drop of liquid blood left in his body.

The second ended his career that run. A hate-shade possessed him, and he spent 30 years in an insane asylum trying to control it or exorcise it. He finally failed and became the leader of a serial murderer gang. You might have heard of them. The Harpes, from Illinois.

The last one was the only guy who got away clean, not that it did him any good. The Grail is cursed. The hate-shades never leave it. The Vatican wanted nothing to do with it, and no other collectors were willing to put their lives on the line for it.

So where is it now? It gets circle jerked around through various terrorist groups, though they don't know what it is. They call it the "Cup of Allah's Fury". They serve water in it to prisoners, and the prisoners become bloodthirsty murderers, bent on suicide killings. Being possessed by a hate-shade will do that to you.
>> Anonymous
>>48398099
FAIL

Automation would solve a lot of..... "employee turnover" at that place.
>> Anonymous
>>48397719

The run started out easily enough. They took the stairs in the back of a mosque down into the catacombs. The door into the inner catacomb was hidden by a real amateur, so they found that easily enough. Turns out, though, that the reason it was an amateur was because he was the only sucker they could get to come that close to the Grail.

Put yourself there, /b/. The stone door swings open with a quiet rasp of granite on granite...then there's the deafening wail of a hate-shade as it boils toward you, a vaguely humanform blood red mist with wicked looking claws. When they sink those damn claws into you...it feels like every drop of blood in your body is going to boil straight out of your arteries. That's what happened to one of them. He died with a hate-shade clawing at him, his face contorted in fury without a drop of liquid blood left in his body.

The second ended his career that run. A hate-shade possessed him, and he spent 30 years in an insane asylum trying to control it or exorcise it. He finally failed and became the leader of a serial murderer gang. You might have heard of them. The Harpes, from Illinois.

The last one was the only guy who got away clean, not that it did him any good. The Grail is cursed. The hate-shades never leave it. The Vatican wanted nothing to do with it, and no other collectors were willing to put their lives on the line for it.

So where is it now? It gets circle jerked around through various terrorist groups, though they don't know what it is. They call it the "Cup of Allah's Fury". They serve water in it to prisoners, and the prisoners become bloodthirsty murderers, bent on suicide killings. Being possessed by a hate-shade will do that to you.

You didn't think that the people blowing themselves up were just crazy, did you?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I'm a gonna kill you!
>> Anonymous
>>48398204

Sorry. Us old guys type slow. I promise you I'll at least post when I call it a night. My doom won't come this evening, I feel confident of that.
>> Anonymous
>>48398307
Assuming you AAARE some great "Treasure Hunter" (Yes, I can be imaginative too), WTF ARE YOU DOIN' ON /b/ LOL?
>> Anonymous
Am I the only one that hates the ones that beginning with "In any city," or "On any night," and usually end up with "go to here and there and do this and that. If you do, this will happen, if you don't something else will happen." And usually, toward the end there's a "nobody knows what happens if you [do/don't]"

I fucking hate those. So far, only>>48392705and>>48394143have even made me shudder. And of course,>>48393596did the first time I read it, but not this time since it's old now.

tl;dr: "creepy"pastas that instruct you to do shit are not creepy. How many of you are with me?
>> Anonymous
>>48398099

Only good CreepyPasta because it doesent read like a shitty ghost story
>> Anonymous
>>48398358

Like I said; I'm an old man, and I'm letting out my stories in the only way I can before I pass on. I write a book about it, and I'll be dead before anyone reads it. I go on TV, I disappear an hour before the interview. I wave a sign on the street, I'm gone the second nobody's looking.

I'm anonymous here, so it takes a bit for the things that will eventually come for me to to find me. Long enough for my mind to ease itself, I hope.
>> Anonymous
>>48398377here again. One more thing. If you want some mother fucking "heeby-jeebies," go to http://www.dionaea-house.com/

I pasta'd all of the entries from there last time and belair'd the end, but don't feel like it this time. Belair'd or not, it's fucking epic. Most of you will probably be too lazy to go there, but If you wanna make this a non fail creepypasta thread, someone paste all the entries from there in order here.Epic brick shitting to ensue.
>> Anonymous
>> tl;dr: "creepy"pastas that instruct you to do shit are not creepy. How many of you are with me?

2nd'd
>> Anonymous
>>48398512
Less BS, moar stories. Suprise us.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
People often have nightmares, this is considered normal and should not concern you.

But if you ever wake up during the night, heart racing and palms sweating, your survival instinct has alerted you to something.

Stay silent, and listen. If you are met with a deadly silence it might be a false alarm and you should immedietely fall asleep.

If you hear even the faintest sound of a boy crying, do not close your eyes for a second, he is waiting for you under the bed.
>> Anonymous
>>48398512
Any news about the lost spear of god? Longinous or whatnot.. or is that just Hollywood hubbub?

there arent any lost artifacts that stick in my mind as well as the religious ones.
>> Anonymous
>>48396360

Where can one find the original Shitting Dick Nigger?
>> Anonymous
It is dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.
>> Anonymous
>>48398725
GRUE LOL.
>> Anonymous
>>48398693
Chuck Noris uses it as a letter opener
>> Anonymous
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRkWQDHz7hU
video related fuck i hope this guy comes through
>> Anonymous
seconded
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48398512
here is one.

What of the old sword excalibur? seems like that might've made its way into a collection.
>> Anonymous
The Holder of Lulz

In any city, you will find a normal suburban house with a basement. Knock on the door, and when a pale, drawn-looking middle aged woman answers ask to see "The Keeper of Lulz." If she is unable to contain her joy, ushers you in for cookies and yells "JERRY! THERE'S A FRIEND HERE TO SEE YOU!" then you will be lead to a dank basement.

Here, a figure will sit at a blinking monitor with his back to you. His limbs will be pale and skeletal like death, but his belly will be distended like the kwashiorkor babies of Ethiopia. He will respont to only one question: "How does bear know what they are?"

If you are lucky, he will say "GTFO, NEWFAG." If not, he will describe the detail of every meme, every flame war, every piece of insignificant internet drama, every person on his friend list and everything else that occupies his mind. Many go mad or flee.

If you stay to the end, he will press a CDR into your hand. This object is disk 1 of 153652 containing CP. It is up to you what you do when the party van catches you with it.
>> Anonymous
>>48398530
oh shit I was in that thread

first time I've ever re-met anon
>> Anonymous
>>48398899
i lol'd
>> Anonymous
MOAR!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48398771
GRUE U SAY?
>> Anonymous
>>48398530
Thanks again for that /b/ro.
>> Anonymous
>>48398612
Well, alright. I'll tell you about the relic known as the Doppleganger's Heart.

Even I'm not really sure of the origins of the thing. I'm pretty sure it's of this world, though, as much as that makes me shudder to think it. It looks like a black dodecahedron made out of obsidian. Very shiny, very pretty, but always cold.

The basic idea of the Doppleganger's Heart is that, when you touch it, it rips your soul in half; half of it stays with you, the other half is shoved into another person's shell of your choosing. Since both bodies have your soul, the two of you will be supernaturally in tune and will work extraordinarily well together. This makes the artifact indispensable to power brokers and politicians.

But, the half-soul in an alien body slowly becomes twisted from its occupation. It's very hard on your soul's state of peace to be in a place it doesn't belong. The duplicates made from the Heart invariably go insane, and they can become incredibly powerful; a soul driven to madness by being out of place can invoke terrible sin rites to provide superhuman abilities.

This artifact has a particularly long history with Russia. Rasputin? A doppleganger, initially created by Tzar Nicholas II to keep an eye on his wife. I think we all know how that turned out. Stalin? A doppleganger of Lenin, created to help him spread communism.

The scariest thing? Vladimir Putin is looking for the Heart. I guess he wants to make sure his successor follows in his footsteps. I'd stay out of Russia for a while if I were you.
>> Anonymous
>>48398725
on the edge of a forest lies a house covered in crackling white paint. if you go enter the house through the window, you can find a trap door downward into a large network of caves. be sure you have plenty of sources of light. Many have entered these grounds, but their lights have all been extinguished, and they have never returned to the surface world.
>> Anonymous
>>48399132
Do go on. Also, how do I become said Treasure Hunter, if I wished to do so?
>> Anonymous
Clerico approves of "The Treasure Hunter"
>> Anonymous
>>48399132

cant say i was plannin on it anytime soon anyway -_-
>> Anonymous
>>48398899
I chortle'd heartily
>> Anonymous
>>48399132
Russia seems to have a history with that thing....
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
guys, I see nothing wrong with this picture?
>> Anonymous
>>48399285
You don't find us; we find you. There are a few freelancers that aren't connected to us, but they tend to have very short life spans, considering what's lurking in the cracks of human civilization.

I'll tell one more story before I get some sleep--I'm feeling better already.

This is one I'm sure most of you will recognize; the Bullet of Bond. Yeah--James Bond.

The Bond movies you see have a grain of truth in them. England does have a single super spy (though the explosions and all that are lies), and he has been active for as long as even my old ass has been alive. So how does he do it?

It's not the same body.

The Bullet of Bond looks like a standard revolver bullet and it can kill you just as easy as any other bullet. The difference is, though, that if you survive the shot, and your body heals around it, you pick up Bond's expertise and habits. It takes about a month for the entire process to happen. You don't lose your soul or anything; if the bullet is ever removed, you lose all memories of what happened, but otherwise, you're fine. The British Secret Service routinely shoots their most eligible agent, lets them serve for 5 years, then removes the bullet and claims they were wounded and in a coma--they give them a new identity and everything.

The usual place for the shot? The left buttcheek. That's where another bit of the movies comes in truthfully--Bond always be on top in sex, since the bullet in his ass is really painful when the woman's on top.
>> Anonymous
>>48399285
You don't find us; we find you. There are a few freelancers that aren't connected to us, but they tend to have very short life spans, considering what's lurking in the cracks of human civilization.

I'll tell one more story before I get some sleep--I'm feeling better already.

This is one I'm sure most of you will recognize; the Bullet of Bond. Yeah--James Bond.

The Bond movies you see have a grain of truth in them. England does have a single super spy (though the explosions and all that are lies), and he has been active for as long as even my old ass has been alive. So how does he do it?

It's not the same body.

The Bullet of Bond looks like a standard revolver bullet and it can kill you just as easy as any other bullet. The difference is, though, that if you survive the shot, and your body heals around it, you pick up Bond's expertise and habits. It takes about a month for the entire process to happen. You don't lose your soul or anything; if the bullet is ever removed, you lose all memories of what happened, but otherwise, you're fine. The British Secret Service routinely shoots their most eligible agent, lets them serve for 5 years, then removes the bullet and claims they were wounded and in a coma--they give them a new identity and everything.

The usual place for the shot? The left buttcheek. That's where another bit of the movies comes in truthfully--Bond will always be on top in sex, since the bullet in his ass is really painful when the woman's on top.
>> Anonymous
>>48399868
You sir are made of win.
>> Anonymous
Fail.
>> Anonymous
>>48399964
lol i though 007 was just one a string of other 00's
>> Anonymous
I wouldnt mind being found by Treasure Hunters...ive always had an interest in things of that nature
>> Anonymous
>>48393157
JESUS CHRIST FUCKING SPIDERS
>> Anonymous
>>48399964

marked.
>> Anonymous
>>48393926
>>48393926
>>48393926

The problem with that one is, it's true :\
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48399850
That's because there's nothing wrong in this picture, just a troll for newfags.
>> Anonymous
>>48392831
I lol'd
>> Anonymous
My problem with a lot of these stories is that most of them entail no more than "go to this location and either die or keep on living normally or with some power that won't matter in a few days because you'll go insane lol": there needs to be some actual appeal to do this shit.
>> Anonymous
>>48396360
Is string theory right?
Is there at least one god(dess)?
>> Anonymous
please stop posting chain letter instructions.

Why would I do something if all that is going to happen is supposedly I get eaten by ghouls??
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48393855
>> Anonymous
One sleepy afternoon a man of 36 was strolling the forests of Washington on the border of Canada. Armed with his rifle and the instincts of a lifetime hunting with his father, he sought game to trophy back at home, where his young wife and newborn son awaited him.

A rustle in the bushes, and clatter of hooves, and the hunter takes off after the fleeing buck. He tracks the mighty stag to a rocky cleft in the side of a hill, where the trail abruptly runs cold.

Shining his flashlight into the cave, something catches his eye. He ducks under the rocky overhang and clambers into the small chamber.

The walls are painted in ochre and filled with mouldering trinkets. Idian relics, antique woodcutter's tools, old rifles, stone tomohawks, a broken car battery.

The hunter exits the cave and hurries back to his homestead beyond the woods.

The place could use some new paint, he notes absently as he walks up to the door. Wiping his feet, he steps inside.

Things seem different... What's this new picture framed in the hall? An old woman next to a young man... The old woman is wearing his wife's necklace...

Slowly he turns and sees the calendar on the wall.

June 12th 2032.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
WINRAR
>> Anonymous
>>48400241

Look outside the window at the bottom. >_>
>> Anonymous
>>48400311
Old guy here. I was going to bed but saw this. Just had to reply.

I wouldn't know anything about whether or not String Theory is right. Sorry.

As for God...well, I guess it depends on your definition.

Is there an obscenely powerful, unseen force that could crush the entire human race in an instant, but doesn't for some unknown agenda?

You bet your ass there is. I don't claim to have any first hand knowledge, but some things are just beyond human design. Like this one thing I found myself in Chile. I call it the Cosmic Mechanic.

It's a single rectangle that has a strange screen on one side and a bunch of alien script and unmarked buttons on the other. You'd have to have either...2 sets of eyes, or omniscience to use it effectively. It...seems to have access into the spine of the earth, though. It's a very frightening thing. I was trying to learn it with experimentation, clicking around one day. The screen started flashing red and vomiting up a bunch of text in some weird language...then it got very hot, so I reflexively dropped it and it melted into the ground.

The next day, I heard that Mount St. Helen had erupted. The Cosmic Mechanic appeared again right where I had dropped it. So yeah, that volcano eruption? My fault, may every power in the universe forgive my blind, asinine arrogance for playing with the Mechanic.

A week later, I travelled to Hawaii and threw the Mechanic into an active volcano crater. I know for a fact that it still exists, but may it never be found again.

And with that, I'm going to bed. Thanks for listening to an old man, /b/.
>> Anonymous
thanks /b/ im now shitting my pants, im off college because my parents left the house and didn't leave me a key so i can't lock up, and all the doors to the room im in are shut, i don't dare move now.
>> Anonymous
I want to go to sleep but this treasure hunter guy is keeping me up...*sigh* hes leaving now tho, good stories, who knows if they are true
>> Anonymous
You have yet to scare me tonight.

Candlejack is creepy than this shi
>> Anonymous
;_; Old guy must back sometiem

someone save his stories
>> Anonymous
>>48394782

FUUUCK YOU ANON
>> Anonymous
old guy should go to \x\ not updated as fast
>> Anonymous
>>48400263
>>48400374
see
>>48398377
>> Anonymous
>>48394833

FUCK YOU ANON THIS PERSONALL LEVEL OF COPYPASTA IS MAKING ME SHIT MASS BRICKS!!!
>> Anonymous
Only, if you ask her “What happened when it was first created?” she will become silent to glance up towards your face. Her beauty will render you breathless, and if you are still capable of any thought it will be only the realization that in her you see everything in this world that you truly love. Suddenly, you will realize that the girl is bleeding from her nether regions as a grotesque phallus emerges from the petit orifice between her legs. The object will pulsate with its own life, and you will find that it is hypnotizing you. Do not look away, for you do not wish to try its patience.
>> Anonymous
>>48392705
>>48399850
>>48400241

omg seriously scariest thing i've seen in a long time, i seriously shat massive soul screaming bricks
>> Anonymous
>>48401633
Save'd.
>> Anonymous
>>48398661
If there was a boy under my bed i would kick him in the fucking mout then probally murder him.
>> Anonymous
>>48397932
>>48397881
>>48397829
>>48397773
>>48397750
>>48397723
there are 538 pokemon
>> Anonymous
>>48402315
Needs screencap or something.
>> Anonymous
>>48398530
holy shit, bricks where shat. follow the rabbit hole, see how far it goes.
>> Anonymous
If you have ever encouraged a person to die on an internet image board, moments later you may have felt a presence in the room, it will make
you turn around to look behind you, there is nothing, but the presence remains.

It's easily dismissed as paranoia, just your imagination running wild, you might not even remember if you tried.

The meaning of that presence is not certain, but it is always later found that, both people in question have died.

The circumstances surrounding the first differ in details but are nearly always the same, suicide without a trace of foul play.

The second always appears to have commited suicide by suffocation, however their hands are tied perfectly behind their back.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
thank you /b/, you kept me up all night. you win. you win so hard. have some doom 3.
>> Anonymous
]~Ç
>> Anonymous
>>48403019
HAY WAIT THAT'S BATTLETOADS...!
>> Anonymous
>>48401996
WTF are you talking about? Did anyone see this post before it died?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48403019
FIXED
>> Anonymous
>>48403252
this thread is now about SHOOP DA WOOP
>> Anonymous
That sound that you hear on a cold night, the sound that your parents always told you was your heartbeat...it's not your heartbeat, it's hooves.

The sound is most noted to occur after eating an animal with hooves - such as a cow, and thereby consuming beef - and quite often is heard in Spain, the night after the Running of the Bulls.

The hooves themselves are the spirits of those creatures which have passed...and their running is running towards you as you hear the sound.....
>> Anonymous
>>48393596

Fuck me. Bricks were shat...

Hats off to you anon, that was some good copypasta.
>> Anonymous
>>48394475

Lmfao. Well played anon!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Anybody want a bundled up ghost baby?
>> Anonymous
Bump for MOAR.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This photo was taken in 1936 at Raynham Hall in Norfolk, England, by two photographers of Country Life magazine. Raynham Hall was long reputed to be haunted by the ghost of Lady Dorothy Townshend, who died in 1726. The ghost had been seen on many occasions throughout the years when it was spotted descending these stairs by the Country Life photographers, who quickly took a snapshot. This is considered by many to be the most highly regarded and reputable photograph by a ghost yet made.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This one became fairly well known after it was released in December of 2003. Hampton Court, near London, was one of Henry VIII's favorite hangouts (it's because of him that Anne Boleyn is now a headless ghost roaming the Tower of London). A fire door inside the castle kept being opened when no one was supposed to be around. Guards checked the security cameras' videotape... and spotted this figure in period costume walking through the door. Castle personnel swear they don't know who did this, noting that they don't even have a costume that looks like this. 'Course this could be some prankster at work, but I felt this was yet worthy of including in my top ten list... until we ever find out otherwise. It might turn out to have just been some tourist in an overcoat. Anyway if you want to watch the actual footage of the specter opening the door L.E.M.U.R. Investigations has it on their website.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Reverend K.F. Lord took a picture of the altar at his church in North Yorkshire, England (why are the GOOD ghosts always found in England?) and this is what came out. The picture and the negative are said to have been thoroughly examined by photographic experts and they can't find any evidence that this was either a double exposure, or artificially altered. The "thing" is calculated to be standing nine feet tall, and no one's found any record of a monk that humongous ever being at Newby Church. Who is it? What is it? Trick of light or something else? Either way it's way too creepy to not mention on this list.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I found this one at the L.E.M.U.R. website also. The photo was taken in 1999 at the Historic Worley B&B Inn in Dahlonega, Georgia (YES finally ghosts in our neck of the woods!). It wasn't until four years later that this photo – which seems to show a figure resting on a bed – was really given notice. It's thought that this might be the ghost of a young man who died in the house in the 1800s after being struck by a train, and if you go to L.E.M.U.R.'s page you can find a picture of the lad (when he was still alive) to compare this photo with.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Freddy Jackson was a mechanic in the Royal Air Force in World War I. Freddy Jackson's squadron served onboard the H.M.S. Daedalus. Freddy Jackson was killed in 1919 when an airplane propeller hit him. Two days later when the squadron assembled for a group photo, Freddy Jackson faithfully showed up, grinning behind the ear of a fellow comrade. Guess nobody bothered to tell Freddy Jackson that he was dead. His face was widely recognized in this photo by members of the squadron.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Remember how Archie Bunker liked his recliner so much that he never let anyone else sit in it? Well, ol' Archie doesn't have anything on Lord Combermere. After being ran over by a horse-drawn carriage he died in 1891. A photographer set up a camera with its shutter open for one hour in the manor's library while the entire staff was off at Lord Combermere's funeral, some four miles away. When the plate was developed, the startling image of what looks to be a man's head and arm sitting in the chair was immediately noticed. Many of the staff said that the image looked very much like the late lord, and it happened to be sitting in Combermere's favorite chair in the library.
>> Anonymous
>>48404276
Reminds me of the Menos from Bleach.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In 1959 Mable Chinnery went to the cemetery to visit the grave of her mother, as any devoted daughter is apt to do. She took some photos of the gravesite and then turned and took this picture of her husband sitting alone in the car's passenger seat. The film was developed and this came out: somebody sitting in the backseat wearing glasses, clear as day. Mrs. Chinnery swore that the "backseat driver" was none other than her own mother... whose gravesite she was standing next to when she took the picture! Hmmmm... a live husband and a deceased mother-in-law looking over his shoulder: there's a joke here, I just know it.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Ike Clanton is from the same family that produced the Clanton gang of O.K. Corral fame. He’s obviously proud of his heritage, and he shows it on his website TombstoneArizona.com. Back in 1996 Ike Clanton took this photo of a friend wearing western duds, in the middle of Tombstone's Boothill Graveyard. They swear that nobody else was in sight when they made this picture. Furthermore, some time later they tried to restage this picture with someone standing at the spot where the "mystery man" appears in the background. Ike Clanton says that it was impossible to take such a picture and not show the rear person's legs. Clanton said he wasn't so sure about Tombstone being haunted, but this photo made a believer out of him. There's so much ghostly activity going on in the famous town that Clanton's set up a special section of his website dedicated to Tombstone's population of yesteryear. Well worth checking out, if nothing else than for the sense of history that this excellent website conveys.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
here you go, this one aint no silly photoshop or old photograph trick, but a picture taken in 2007 in indonesia if i remember it right.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
On November 19th, 1995, Wem Town Hall in Shropshire, England was engulfed in flames and burned to the ground. As firefighters tried to stave off the inferno a town resident, Tony O'Rahilly, took pictures from across the street using a telephoto lens on his camera. There, rather clearly in one of the photos, is what looks very much to be a small girl standing in a doorway, with the brightness of the flames behind her. No one ever remembered there being a small girl present on scene, much less in that close a proximity to the fire. The photo and the original negative were turned over to a photo expert who decided that the picture was 100% authentic: "The negative is a straightforward piece of black-and-white work and shows no sign of having been tampered with." Okay, so what's a girl ghost doing in such a big fire? Well in 1677 a fire destroyed many of Wem’s wooden houses. The fire was said to have been caused by a 14-year old girl named Jane Churm, who had been careless with a candle. Churm died in the fire along with several others, and her ghost is said to still haunt the area.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
this gives me the creeps
>> Anonymous
>>48404581
i remember that, they said it came out of a cow if i remember correctly
>> Anonymous
MOAR
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48404890
not that creepy
>> Anonymous
>>48404581

moar on this story.. anyone have a link or something?
>> Anonymous
/r/ MOAR i dont wanna sleep
>> Anonymous
>>48392927

FUCK me.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
its creepy going for a midnight walk on a farm..
>> Anonymous
>>48405010

Not really, only if your from the city and not used to darkness.
>> Anonymous
Ghosts are FAKE! Thats why all ghost pics are in horrible quality. And all ghost pics in good quality are shooped. Period.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48404618
creepily beautiful, i'd say.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48405177

No shit, Sherlock!
>> Anonymous
>>48405339
Not shit, fact!
>> Anonymous
>>48405300
That's Ryuk from Death Note you newfag.
>> Anonymous
>>48405300

gtfo
>> Anonymous
>>48404618
Sephiroth?
>> Anonymous
>>48392596

That one freaked the hell out of me, and its daylight here.
>> Anonymous
>>48404581
WTF is this shit?
>> Anonymous
fark, just finished that dionaera house story...creepy as.
>> Anonymous
Jesus H. Christ, creepy threads are the longest lasting threads on /b/ (save for stickies) hands fucking down. Seriously, this shit has been here for fucking ever. I'm not complaining, mind you.
>> Anonymous
Pics or it didn't happen...
>> Anonymous
shit
>> Anonymous
There's all these old tales of female ghosts, dressed in white or brown (the Brown Lady being one of them i might add) that are coldly beautiful but they have NO FUCKING EYES.

They stand over the foot of your bed in these castles in britain and shit, and you wake up and they're staring at you with empty eye sockets.

I don't know why but those stories have always scared the living piss out of me, even now.
>> Anonymous
this thread needs added video ghosties.
>> Anonymous
Legend has it that if you travel east to Japan, you will find an old man living on the coast just 40 miles south of Tokyo. If you give this man $500,000 he will take you to an island just off the coast that can't be found on any map. This island is filled with people without faces or names, who hold grudges over the most trivial of matters. When you arrive at this island the first thing you will see is a swimming pool that is never open. Just beyond the pool you will find a town that is filled with cats. You must find a white cat wearing a pink bow. If you ask the cat how to get to Mexico, he will stand up and ask you for three things: Your name, your face, and your soul. If you agree to give them to him, your face will vanish and you will forget your own name. You can live on the island and have whatever you desire, but you can never leave the island. The only way to escape is to find the cat again and ask for a young child. The next day a van will pull up in front your house. You will hear a knock at the door, and a voice will ask if you want to come to a party. No one knows what happens if you answer the door.
>> Anonymous
Read "Guts" by Chuck Palahnuik sometime. Should be right up your alley, /b/.
EDIT: Linkage:
http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/books/haunted/guts.php
>> Anonymous
>>48405300
Oh lawd! That is Ryuk from Death Note
>> Anonymous
There was this story i read as a kid, some chick in a mansion or something... and there was a locked room, and she went into it, and there was a dead chick in the bed, and she freaked out and ran into her room and ran a fever... and then she died or something, and she wound up looking like the corpse from the locked room....

GODDAMN IT i wish i could remember more of that story - i can remember it seriously terrified me. there was something about it that was so completely horrifying. every time i read it i'd have trouble getting to sleep for a week.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
Alright. A few questions for the old man. Lets see if he knows his hunting as well as he says he does.

What is "E'lleshaiir"? Who are the Akral people? And, lastly, where can I find the King of Men?
>> Anonymous
>>48405248
>>48404890
>>48404590
>>48404581
>>48404539
>>48404501
>>48404459
>>48404411
>>48404357
>>48404309
>> Anonymous
Stories tell of a certain type of visitor who may show up at your door of an evening, near sunset maybe or a little later.

They will appear to be normal folk, usually preteen children, and will ask if they can come in to use the phone. Sometimes they claim that they are lost or that they desperately need to contact a friend or relative.

If refused, they will become aggitated and more demanding, but will never attempt to force their way in, and will give up eventually.

All in all, seems fairly normal right?

It would be, except every person to have encountered one of these visitors has found themselves utterly stricken by instinctive fear. Why are people so afraid of them? We can't tell, perhaps its an aura, but more than likely it's a strong unnerving that comes from meeting their gaze. For you see, their eyes are completely black.

>> Anonymous
/x/? In my /b/?

It's more likely than you think.
>> Anonymous
>>48394927

I can't believe he lied to me, he said it was only for me :(
>> Anonymous
http://www.warehouse23.com/basement/box/
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48404890
Umm...guys?
>> Anonymous
Posting in creepy thread.

Bump for more terrifying stories, it's nearly 4am and I don't plan on sleeping until the sun comes up now.
>> Anonymous
For some reason, the text always gets me more than the crappy pix.
>> Anonymous
>>48412007
Yeah same, I put myself in the situation somewhat.

Causing some epic scariness.
>> Anonymous
Scary thread is scary. I was already up at 4am, now I'm a little spooked. Not quite totally freaked.
>> Anonymous
>>48394143
Ooh this was a new one to me, I've read all the other creepypastas in the thread so far
thx men
>> Anonymous
>>48413470
>>48414080
A few of these stories are sort of scary/makes one pause, but none are brick shitworthy.

I don't think anything on /b/ can make me shit brix.
>> Anonymous
this thread sucks balls, moving back to /x/ ->
>> Anonymous
If you ever find yourself in Chicago, Illinois on a full moon, head on out to Grant Park. Sit on one of the benches, any will do, and ask "is the one watching me?". If you hear a small voice whisper back "yes he is", then you are lucky. Ask again, "what does the one want from me?". The voice will reply back, "It is small and white". Ask again, but much softer, "who is the thief?". The voice will reply back, "I'm not certain" in a barely audible whisper. Ask one more question, "Is this object your iPod Mitchell?". You will start to hear a crying noise. Follow that noise to the point that it stops and bend down. At your feet you should find an iPod nano. Ask the sky, "Would you like your iPod?". The voice will respond, "yes please. Leave it where you found it." Respond back, "No bitch, this is my iPod now." Suddenly the ground below you will start to shake violently, what happens next is a mystery, but be warned that out over 9000 who have stolen Mitchell's iPod, none still walk this Earth.
>> Anonymous
>>48414640
LOL CP FUKKIN SAVED
>> Anonymous
>>48406784
don't you mean a cartoony anamorphic, smiling brown bear instead of a white cat?
>> Anonymous
>>48406824
Thanks for ruining my life...where's that picture of the guy with the cheesegrinder on his?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
it thinks your tasty to
>> Anonymous
Videos are kinda scary. Pix are also kinda scary.
Nothing beats the story.
This video is backed by a news report a year or so ago in which 3 or 4 kids in Indonesia crashed their car. The video was found later and uploaded to Youtube.
Someone else here should have the link to the news story but I can look for it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXlIKjFQ6ys
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This work? BTW the email address is just for fun. I don't think it exists.
>> Anonymous
Here's a nice trick to play on them.
Find a room in your house with only one mirror(the bathroom works best.) Use aluminum foil and duct-tape and tightly tape over the entire mirror to ensure no light gets out.
Next take a sheet of white or notebook paper and write a message in sharpie. Next, hold the paper up to the still covered mirror. Finally, tear off the aluminum foil in one quick motion and watch as 'he' tries to catch up to you.
>> Anonymous
>>48417355
someone do this
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
it can see forever!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48417977
Yeah please! I'm too scared!
>> Anonymous
>>48417977
I did it 2 weeks ago lol

nothing happened
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48418868
ya rite u lier
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>48419159
slightly unsettling
>> Anonymous
>>48419421
fuck.. that did it
>> Anonymous
>>48418868
Oh, well then nevermind.
>> Anonymous
>>48419421

reminds me of this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dROOGGyJQvA
>> Anonymous
One day a man walked into a Motel, tired and hungry from his long flight. He walked up the receptionist table and asked for a room. The Receptionist gladly obliged but gave this warning. "When you walk to you room, do not go in the first door." She seemed to be rather seriously but the man took it as a joke. As he walked to his room sure enough he tried the doorknob of the door that he was told no to enter. It was locked, he looked at the door strangely then knelt down and look through the keyhole. All he saw was a pale girl in a white dress looking at the wall. He stared at her for a couple seconds the got up shrugged it off and went to his room. The next morning he was walking to the diner in the motel as he past the door again he decided to look in one more time. But this time all he saw was red, an unmoving bright red color, Nothing else. He was alittle freaked out and walked to the receptionist desk and asked about the room. She shook her head and said. "Did you look in the keyhole?.." The man nodded. The receptionist sigh and said. "I'll tell you the story, a couple years back a man went crazy in that room and killed his wife brutally, now that room is haunted by her ghost. Their body is all white and pale, except the their eyes, which are completely red."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time.

Although the scene was originally labelled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm's well (which had apparantly dried up earlier that year).

Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. The camera then continued to stationarily point at the oven for another 45 minutes until the batteries apparantly died.

To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well.

...or why the physical stature of the woman on the tape did not in any way resemble the stature of the woman found in the oven.
>> Anonymous
There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, which is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase. The case is filled with unmarked books; bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood. However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out. The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape is to douse the light.
>> Anonymous
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.

She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.

In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.

Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.

Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
>> Anonymous
There was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the baby got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he disappeared. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told. About 45 minutes later, a man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in less than the 45 minutes he was missing, he was cut open, all of his organs removed, and was stuffed with cocaine. The man was going to carry him across the border as if he were asleep.
>> Anonymous
>>48422345

Oh my god. This was especially hilarious because I misread "shopping spree" as "Shooting spree"
>> Anonymous
A man and wife were driving late one night when they were flagged down by a woman that appeared to be hurt. She claimed she'd been in an accident and her baby was alive but trapped in the car. The man told her to wait with his wife and he'd see what he could do. He got to the car and found a couple obviously dead in the front seat but a baby crying in a carseat. He cut the baby loose and returned to his own car. When he got there his wife was alone, he asked her where the woman had went and she replied that she'd followed him to the wreck. He left the baby with his wife and went back to the car to find her. When he got there he realized the woman who'd been instantly killed in the front seat had been the one who'd flagged him down.
>> Anonymous
In the very outskirts of my town, there was a run down, spooky looking "haunted" house. We had always heard the rumors, but we never really thought much of them, until one day we went to investigate. We hadn't really had much of anything to do that day, so we rode our bikes out to the house. Upon entering though, we discovered something horrid.

The rumors were true.

The rumors we had heard told us of four hideous...things that lurked in this household. One tale we heard told of a giant man composed of the parts of corpses, a terrifying, dimwitted gargantuan that could tear your arms off without a second though. Another told us of a sharp dressed gentleman who lived there, a man who had been living for centuries without any sign of aging, his pale white skin as smooth and young as the day he was born. Others told us of man whose wild lack of inhibitions had created a beast out of himself, and others told of a corpse thousands of years old, that still roamed the house.

And yet, if you do enter this house, if you are truly willing to risk your lives for the greater good of mankind, then heed my warning. If you enter this antique hellhouse and if you can truly handle this incredible commitment, then play a few notes on the organ in the hall. If you do, you just might become the Big Bad Beetleborgs.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
When I see lips begging to be kissed
I
can't
STOP

I
can't
STOP MYSELF
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
ITT, Linux fags enter banner into a terminal, give it a word and paste results.
>> Anonymous
>>48423418
NO U
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Oh you shits. You kept whining for a fucking /x/ board. Now you have one. Take your shit there.
>> Anonymous
>>48393295

>>Somewhere in NYC

>>always sitting at the corner of Lexington and East 21st, near Granmercy Park.

Durr hurr
>> Anonymous
>>48422654
holy oh my god, that is amazing.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>48422259
>> Anonymous
>>48422345
the only post so far that made me shit a full brick
>> Anonymous
>>48398116
/thread lolwut