File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
In 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 this short on supplies.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark 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, with 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, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body 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
     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)
Rumor has it that every Halloween during the hours of 2am and 5am, there exists a void. You must stand in front of a mirror in a pitch-black room with your gaze fixated on the mirror. If you remain in the room when the moment arrives, you will feel a chill seize your body. Place your right hand on the mirror and whisper, "I accept." If done correctly, in the mirror there will be a faint image of a fleshless infant with pitch black eyes. He will stare directly into your soul and you will hear the buzzing of flies and nervous whispering. You will not be able to make out the image in the mirror but you will be filled with unspeakable terror. The infant will ask you five questions about events that have occurred within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper and will be devoid of all emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed. For each question that is answered correctly, you will be able to recite the name of someone you know. That person will be found dead the next morning, after a night of unimaginable horror, with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Awsm
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A degenerated VHS dub was discovered in the University Library containing five minutes of inexplicable amateur footage. In one continuous shot, the camera momentarily focuses on a doorway on the north wall of a living room before the operator climbs outside of the house through a window to show the exterior white clapboard. The camera then moves inside the house through a second window completely circling the doorway and so proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that insulation or siding is the only possible thing this doorway could lead to. A hand appears in the frame and pulls open the door, revealing a narrow black hallway at least ten feet long. The camera begins to move closer, threatening to actually enter it. A voice can be heard, "Don't you dare go in there again, Davy," to which another voice adds, "Yeah, not such a hot idea."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In a small orphanage in a small village in Russia, there is a young boy. His hair is jet black, and messy, and he tattered jeans and an old dingy grey shirt.
Nothing is known of him. For 10 years, he sat in the bed in his room, never moving, never blinking, never eating or sleeping. In the 10 years, he has not seemed to age at all, continuing to look like a 7 year old boy. The only thing that proved he was alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and the refusal to take his eyes off anyone who enters the room alone.
A lone psychiatrist came over in an attempt to find out why the boy had done nothing in 10 years. He entered the room, and shut the door behind him.
30 minutes later, the orphanage's nurse came to check on the 2 of them. Opening the door, she saw the child, still sitting, still not moving, eyes fixxed on her. However, something seemed different. He appeared a slight amount larger, not by much, but enough to make him look like a late 8 or early 9 year old. The psychiatrist was no longer in the room. The door was the only exit, as the room had no windows, vents, or anything, and it was, in fact, in the exact center of the orphanage.
>> Anonymous
In 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 this short on supplies.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark 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, with 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, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body 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.
It was about this time my mom got scared
and said youre moving with your aunte and uncle in bel-air
>> Anonymous
>>50998657
He continued to sit, only seen occasionaly by the lady who came in to check on him, and she never closed the door upon entry.
A week or so later, 2 law enforcment personel entered the orphanage, demanding to speak to the boy about the disapearance of the psychiatrist. The 2 of them entered, clsoing the door behind him, as the head of the orphanage stood outside the door.
30 minutes passed, and not a sound came from the room. The Head eased the door open. The boy was still on the bed, but the officers where no longer there. The boy was know quite noticably bigger, about the size of a 15 year old. His skin was darker than usual, and he looked angrier than ever. But one thing remained the same: His cold, unforgiving eyes that stared at whoever entered.
>> Anonymous
>>50998688
Eventually, the law organized a large group of 10 officers to speak to the boy. They entered the room, and left the door open, until one of the younger orphans ran up and shut it, appearently in a daze.
The head quickly ran to re-open the door, and upon doing so froze him in horror. A low rumbling noise came from the room....

".....One....more...."

If you return to that orphanage, you will see it still continues to run. The orphans live in good care, health, and education. However, there is one room, that you sill see is boarded up, and far from enterable. If you ask what is behind it, you will be removed forcefully from the orphanage.
However, when no one's looking, if you place you're ear to the door, you will hear a low ominous growling sound, and if you listen for a bit, you will hear....

".....One.....more...."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
these threads fucking rock.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.

Today a friend of mine told me a story.

His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):

"They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
>> Anonymous
>>50998941
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren't already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door...

Once for you bones, which she'll use to patch her own decaying flesh.

Twice for your muscle, which she'll gnash her teeth on between victimes.

Thrice for your bones, which she'll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victimes.

Four times for your heart, which she'll wear around her neck.

Five times for your teeth, which she'll polish and keep in a box.

Six times for your eyes, which she'll see the faces of your loved ones through.

Seven times for your soul, which she'll eat whole - you can never pass while you're in her stomach.

She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.

You can try to outrun her, but she's faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she's knocking on your door, she won't be so courteous when she catches up to you.
>> Anonymous
>>50998982
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that's right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again."

Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints."

His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.

He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
>> Anonymous
>>50999030
Then a little girl's voice spoke over the line: "WITNESS." I hung up.

Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She's doing it slowly... I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn't get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.

Nice knowing you guys, it's been fuy5
WITNESS
>> Anonymous
>>50999087
i lol'd
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
CREEPYPASTA IS THE CHEMO THAT'S CURING /B/!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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 themself "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, 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, 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 2538. They must never come together. Never.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Some hobo sold it to me for a pack of cigarettes and half a bottle of scotch. Only a few thousand ever made, he said, and this was the twenty-first. Quite the collectable he said. Probably worth quite a bit if I could get it appraised. What the hell.

I brought it home, left it on the table while I went in for a shower. When I came back all the food in my kitchen was rotted and all the pets in my house were dead.

I still didn't know what it was. I put it in my bedroom closet. I was then treated to six nights of the same nightmare: fleeing across a desolate field with the ground writhing and wrippling with the mating throes of massive underground snakes.

On the seventh night I woke up to Sarah's gurgles as she vomited up a live viper. She died of its bite. When I opened my closet I found a... nest.

I burried It in my back yard. The next morning there was a twelve-inch sappling growing from the spot. By noon it had grown two feet. And had eyes. Dozens of them.

I cut the growing thing to shit, dug It up, took it out of town and threw it into a river.

It came back.

It still spits out eye-spiders every couple hours. They follow me and stare and then they make this little mouse-noise and burst. In the beginning I screamed but now I just kinda giggle and gibber. Its such a fucking mess..

Now, I'm going to do the only other thing I can think of. I'm going to dress in my seediest clothing, hit the streets, and see if I can hock it for a pint of LTD. There has to be someone out there as stupid as I am.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
If you ever find dargaia's nectar, you'll probably be one of the ones who have been looking for it all their lives, and thus won't need any instructions on what to do with it.

Just the same, it's pretty simple, at least to start with. Make sure your affairs are in order (incase you have a bad reaction), and then? Bottoms up.

The coming months are the least pleasant part. You'll find yourself unable to keep food down weeks before you stop needing it. Same with sleep. The color of your blood will be off, making your viens stand out. Expect a few ingrown body parts; little things, just fingers and ears and teeth, usually pressing up against the skin. Make sure you're caught up on your booster shots because you're never going in for a checkup again. Or wearing anything more revealing than a trenchcoat in public, most likely.

Eventually, a little cut on your belly will start 'unhealing', becoming a puss-filled wound in a few days. Over the coming week, Three things will emerge from this.

The first object resembles a greasy black beachnut with maybe a tooth or two growing from it. When you're dead someone will eventually find it and use it to make a new batch of dargaia's nectar. Hide it well, make things fun for future generations.

The second object basically looks like a softball-sized cluster of veins, many of them broken and leaking oily black stuff, all wrapped around something. Then it'll squirm and you'll notice the twisted little skinless fetus in the middle. It will only survive for about twenty seconds. Burn the remains.

The third object will.. well, let's just call it "object 3". It's easier that way.
>> Anonymous
>>50999470
You can plant it anywhere you want. I advise someplace where you don't mind spending all your time and no one else will go. Your back yard or under your cellar works if you don't have any roomates; as long as there's fertile soil. Dig at least five feet down. It won't want to be buried, but just keep piling dirt onto it (if you can still hear it when you're finished you didn't go deep enough).

Its veins (or roots, I guess) will eventually spread in all direction about a foot and a half for every year of your life. Grass and weeds will grow stiff and bony, or black and oily, or take on the color and texture of a spider bite, or rice paper. Wood will be infected too; you'll hear the arteries in your walls pulsing on quiet nights. The ground will rot with dead insect and animal life. Don't mow your lawn; it bleeds like hell.

This is your sanctuary.

No matter what threats or injuries beset you outside, here you will be safe and healthy. Well, what passes for 'healthy' for you now. And if you really hate someone, bring them here. Trick them into coming. They'll get infected, one way or another; a lungfull of spore, a thornprick, a bit of residue on their hand. They will blood-vomit and the blood will have tiny centipedes in it. They'll shit out their own spinal fluids. Their eyes will milk over and hatch; little spines and brambles will grow from the sockets. They'll survive for months or years, doctors will be baffled, it will be completely fucking great.

That's all for starters. You'll learn more as you go. Much more. But if I told you everything now you might not do it.

Whatever you do, just guard it with your life, your very soul. If you think you're in danger of loosing it, dig it up, kill it with a silver needle, let someone else make a new one some day. You'll feel as if you've pierced your own heart, but it's better than letting it fall into the wrong hands.

Because you're a Holder now.

And you'd better not let them come together.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
ITT creepy shots
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I can't say exactly where the Twenty-Ninth is, because like the First it demonstrates a vast multipresence, if not omnipresence, as does its "holder". I'll not name him because I loath having him gaze over my shoulder.

Number 2325 is the size of Rhode Island, and all the little negroids living on it think they're worshiping "the land". In a sense they're correct, but they still haven't figured out why their land demands so much more than anyone else's.

The ninety-eigth is called Gegnaiek. A tree you might call him; though older than the sun, he has found perfect nourishment in homo sapien

You'll notice me personifying these objects at times, speaking as if each is possessed of a certain alien intelligence. In fact, this is only the case with a very few, perhaps a hundred; the rest are merely created to perform a function, or innumerous functions, and with crushing indifference they perform them, incapable of seeing or caring what gnats and flies may be crushed into the gears.

We are the monkeys staring down the gun barrel, the moths bathing in flame, the babies with a playpen full of knives and needles and cyanide. Our doom is wrought by our own fumbling hand, and like the cave-beasts we are, we call the tools of our suicide "wicked" and "evil", pretending our murderers to be the faceless boogiemen who must have set them in our path..

How know I so much?

By consulting object 2537.. The Index.
Though apparently sentient, The Index has never tried to mislead me or do me any harm, merely spelled out on its stiff yellow pages honest and up-to-date information on the Objects. All of them. Location, function, associated dangers.. everything a Gatherer could wish to know. In plain, modern English.

It is the single most dangerous object in existence.
>> Anonymous
>>50999240
heared this way back in like grd 7 and thats telling you something, it wasn't creepy when i was a child and its not creepy while you're are child, get some new pasta
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>50998154
Superior version here. Open in WinRAR and be a winnar.
>> Anonymous
>>50999330
>>50999470
>>50999510
are these from books or just shit written for creepy threads to be copypasta for ever?
>> Anonymous
>>50999814
It's called creepypasta, honorable newfag.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In Portland, Oregon, on Southeast Division Street near Mount Tabor, there is an ancient building. It is somewhat cylindrical in construction, squat and wide, and made of dark stone. At first glance it looks like the corner tower of a medieval fortress. It even has a crenellated parapet. Records on file with the city indicate that this "house" was built in 1899 by a man named Francis Hodge. However, no other records of a Francis Hodge, including birth and death certificates, seem to exist anywhere in the area. In fact, by reading copies of The Oregonian (the local newspaper) from 1898, it is not too difficult to find a single article that briefly mentions the house, called the Division Enigma at the time, in reference to a fire that destroyed building records and blueprints for many of the houses in southeast Portland. It simply states that "In addition [to the building records], all public records regarding the unusual building near Mount Tabor, called the Division Enigma, were unfortunately also lost." For whatever reason, nobody spoke more of it publicly after that, and it was registered to a Francis Hodge the next year. It has been treated as a normal residence ever since.
(to be continued)
>> Anonymous
>>51000346
(continued)

However, if you know who to talk to, the curator of the Oregon Historical Society has access to an extremely interesting document regarding the Enigma that was spared destruction, as it was in a private library at the time and had since been quite forgotten about until the library's contents were donated to the Society in the 1950s. In the field notebook of an amateur archaeologist named J. Pickett, he explains how he found a hidden passage in the basement floor by prying stones from it. According to this man, the Division Enigma is just what it looks like: the tower of an immense castle that was buried almost completely in the earth, so old that "even the Indians here, in their stories, say it existed before their creation on this Earth. The chiefs tell the tale that it is connected to the world of their animal spirits and gods, et c. However, they caution as to its danger. Apparently the belief is that whatever is inside the structure is rather malicious." The man himself only went far enough down (the trapdoor opens onto a spiral staircase, he wrote) to see that there were long stone halls at the base of the tower, with all the windows filled in by rock. At this point he found a human skeleton, and vowed to return later with a team of men to "really light the place out. The archaeological value of such a find cannot be understated." This was all near the end of his field notebook, which, it should be added, is dated 1898. According to the curator, no further notebooks exist. However, the Enigma itself still stands....
>> Anonymous
This is the Chemo that is saving /b/.
Really, I come to /b/ hoping for an AWESOME ASS topic like this one.
>> Anonymous
>>50999330

I'm too much of a pussy to click on the image (.gif on a creepy thread, duh). Could someone describe it to me?
>> Anonymous
>>51000346

Well fuck, I live in SE next to Mt. Tabor...
>> Anonymous
>>50998486
thats from jericho???
>> Anonymous
This is true.

Stand in the bathroom, alone enough that you can't hear anyone else in the house and they can't hear you, or, preferrably, completely alone. This is so that you won't be distracted, not because it makes things "scarier"... they don't need to be. You can do this any time, day or night, provided you have a quiet setting.

Look at yourself in the mirror. Give yourself a good look, and resist any urges to comb your hair, wash your face or anything else like that. You aren't trying to fix yourself. You're just trying to see yourself.

Think back to your earliest memories, happy, sad or otherwise. Remember who you were when you were a child of two, three, four years old. What did you want? What did you fear? What did you dream about? Now, stare your reflection straight in the eye, and ask:

"Who are you?"

Be patient with yourself. Ask again. For most people, they have a strong impulse to follow up the question with "You aren't me... so who are you?" Go ahead and say it if the urge strikes you. Just make sure you aren't drowning yourself out. The words are meant to help focus you towards looking yourself in the eye and seeing yourself stripped of conceit and white lies and presuppositions.

I discovered how to do this when I was a teenager, by accident. No one I know who has tried it, including myself, can keep it up for more than a minute or two without becoming very mentally agitated.
>> Anonymous
Moar! Increase the levels to maximum.
>> Anonymous
>>51000634
You've seen it then? On a green lawn at around, oh, 66th, I think (though it might be Stark Street and not Division... hard to remember). The house is definitely there.

(39th and Holgate here)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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.

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?"
>> Anonymous
>In 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 this short on supplies.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark 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, with 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, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial.
Each of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.

fix'd
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
The House on the Borderland is a classic tale of horror by the author William Hope Hodgson, who met an untimely death on the battlefields of the first World War. It can be read here: http://eserver.org/fiction/borderland/
But for those of you without patience, it begins with two British fellows who take a trip into the Irish back country and find a diary that tells of the last days of the old man who had lived in abandoned ruins at the edge of a great void. It is a harrowing tale of cross-dimensional travel and horrifying incursions upon the world of men by foul pig-men pouring from a chasm deep within the earth, a chasm which, at the time of the story's setting, no longer exists, having been swallowed up by the massive void. Though Hodgson wrote other stories, none have had the consistent pull on readers' minds, or have generated as much genuine discomfort, as this one. It is rumored that, when Hodgson's effects were being sorted through after his death, an old water-logged journal was found amongst them. It was penned in a delicate script entirely unlike Hodgson's own. Minus the entire cross-dimensional trip sequence, and minus some of the usual Gothic horror embellishments such as extraneous verbal punctuation, the journal is a nearly exact word-for-word account of the events that transpire in the published book. Adventure seekers at the time of the rumors set out to find whether or not such a place actually existed, but no one who returned (a handful did not) could find anything. Some say that the reason Hodgson's book holds such sway over those who read it is because it touches a fine filigree of the innate knowledge humans have of truths too terrible and maddening to face consciously. Particularly the pig-men seem to jump off the page, as though there is a part of our brains wired to accept that such things could and do exist.Is this creepy? Not if you haven't read the book, I suppose. But if you have read it, you'll see what I'm talking about.
>> Anonymous
>>51000594
the head just moves down a little not really creey...
>> Anonymous
Sometimes in the morning, only half of you wakes up. Your spirit will awaken but not your body.You will be in an astral state and can wander anywhere in the world withought being stopped by anyone or anything. Your senses will be acute, and you will have access to extra senses as well. You can only move at about the same speed as an average bicyclist, but you will be able to use telescopic 'far sight,' see through walls and other solid objects when you want to, and hear even the quietest conversations nearby, just by willing it.

However, it is of utmost importance that you never go too far away from your body. Should it wake up when you are too far away to be rejoined with it, another wandering spirit may steal it before you can return. Should your body ever be stolen you will be doomed to wander the earth in your astral form.

After your body is lost, demonic spirits will begin to hunt you down. They are relentless, experienced and delight in cruelty and mind games. Should they ever find you they will drag you to a place worse than you can imagine. The only way to escape them is to find another host body for your spirit, dooming the owner of that body to the same fate as yours.
>> Anonymous
>>51001063

What if you're alone in the basement and everyone else is sleeping, and the light directly behind you is out?
>> Anonymous
>>51000685
It's called "Self Induced Hypnosis". It can be dangerous if you actually succed in hypnotizing. Not mentally, but while I was studying psychology in college, I read about it and people used to get all sorts of injuries from falling after inducing self-hypnosis.
>> Anonymous
i have shat a dead bloody fetus wraped in hot leathery skin and hair from reading this thread.

continue...
>> Anonymous
>>51001177
You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be scared, then, I presume....
>> Anonymous
>>51001161
Your half right.
It's called "Astral Projection" and it was actually used by the russiansduring the cold war by enducing a semi-concious state with drugs. They actually recovered some of the research work, and saw that the russians had somehow found out locations of facilities that were classified and that they would not know about.
>> Anonymous
This thread has me not wanting to turn around...
>> Anonymous
(part 1)
If you wait at any given train station and keep watching, a train will show up that isn't on the train schedule. Any staff present at the station will act as though it does not exist, and people who aren't looking for it won't see it. If you get on the train you will find that the inside of the train, despite what the train looks like on the outside the inside, will be very elegant and old fashioned.

Have a seat and enjoy the train ride. By this point there is little you can do to save yourself and you should enjoy this short period of luxury that precedes the horrors you might face. The train is full of other passengers dressed very fancily in Edwardian garb. None of the passengers will talk with you, but they will smile if you make eye contact. There will be waitresses and waiters that will serve you, but do not eat or drink anything. If you do, your flesh will rot, and then begin to dessicate, at an astounding rate. Your mind will remain active throughout this gruesome process until you finally die, but your body will be unable to move itself effectively, and the last thing you want is to be unable to leave.
>> Anonymous
>>51001447
(part 2)

After what seems like a long period of time, the train will pull up to a stop. You will have one minute before it begins moving again. During this interval a member of the waitstaff will try to delay you by asking that you "wait for the conductor." You do not want to meet the conductor. Instead, concentrate as hard as you can on any place and time where there might feasibly be, or have been, a train station, and get off the train. The waiter/waitress will say anything to keep you onboard, but they cannot prevent you from leaving.

If you do not get off at this stop then the train will continue on, but all the passengers will be rotting corpses and the train will never stop. The entrances will be sealed and you will be stuck until you die in a smelly train filled with disgusting rotting corpses. However, if you do step off the train, you will be greeted by an elegant, wood-paneled lobby area with a door at the far end. When you step through this door, you will be standing in an out-of-the-way spot at whatever train station you concentrated on, in whatever time period you chose. If no station actually existed at the spot you were thinking of, you will be standing outside about a hundred yards from that location. Bear in mind that the door will not be there again, no matter how hard you look for it.
>> Anonymous
>>50998154
Because the medic did PCP and had AIDS.
>> Anonymous
>>51001447

Random noncreepy thought, what happens if you try to rape someone on the train? Does your dick fall off?
>> Anonymous
>>51001312
though some of that could have been remote viewing as well. astral projection is more... total, if you will. Have you ever read Oliver Fox's account of AP? It's a bit dry stylistically (old book), but it's really quite fascinating.
>> Anonymous
>>50998579
House of Leafs.
>> Anonymous
Creepy threads are about as stale as /b/ gets. We literally repost reposted reposts for hundreds of posts, and we'll sometimes do this five or six nights a week.

But every now and then they're pretty cool, if only for the nostalgia value.

/x/ often endeavors to cook up new pasta for us, but they haven't really delivered much.
>> Anonymous
My parents heard about a "ghost light" that would appear on railroad tracks near the Dismal Swamp in Virginia. So They and a few of their friends went down to look for it.
Sure enough, right about dark, this big floaty ball of light appears on the railroad track. Now the thing about the "ghost light" was, if you moved toward it, it would constantly match your speed and move away from you.
So the group moved toward it and it kept moving away. My dad said, "Okay, I know what we can do." He and a couple of friends went back to the car and drove down a parallel road to another railroad crossing on the other side. My mom's group was now on one side of the ghost light and my dad's group was on the other. They began to walk toward each other. There was maybe ten yards between them when the light suddenly disappeared. Then my mom said "turn around".
The light had reappeared behind my dad and his group and resumed its normal behavior.
They never did figure out what the hell it was.
>> Anonymous
Alright
ready for a true story /b/?

This is something i actually experience while I was a paranormal investigator on an investigation in the Pirates House restaurant in Savannah GA.
Anyway, being a paranormal investigator, we had access to areas of the restaurant that were normally restricted to people who worked there. Such as the basement. Now, they did tours occasionally, but here was what happened during our investigator.
I was demonstrating how to operate our IR thermometor and our probe thermometor to 2 of our new members, and while looking toward a walled off area with a tunnel behind it (closed due to safety reasons), I heard a thump by my feet. I figured one of the new people had dropped something so we all looking down at the ground for it. I was looking right below my feet, and we head again (lighter) a thump and this time, Dust move about (you know, like if you step in a pile of dirt, how some pushs to the side, it looked like that) and it left a slight impression of a shoe. After leaving the room with the new members (I only had the 2 new members with me, and needed one of the main members to confirm it), our audio recorded 6 more light thumps, and when we returned, the spot we had seen was gone (but the dust-clouds were on the video). Now that, IS FUCKING CREEPY. I have another story as well if /b/ would like to hear it.
>> Anonymous
>>51001588
Yes.
>> Anonymous
>>51001601
No. I didn't. But during my time in Army Intelligence (I post here often, so you might recognize me), I was able to read up on declassified cold war files, and thats how I came up on the Astral Projection thing. I do know that both sides used remote viewing and map dousing though. Pretty weird the lengths we were ready to go though, and the fact that they were effective. Problem is, nowadays if you wanted to do that to find say, bin laden, you'd be told you were crazy and locked up.
>> Anonymous
/b/ I live in calgary and it's a cold winters night with howling wind tonight.

This is exactly what I needed.
Thanks anon.
<3
>> Anonymous
>>51001992
i live in washington alone with nothing but trees for miles...
>> Anonymous
>>51002092
Are you sure there's nothing else besides trees outside your window?

MUWAHAHAHA
>> Anonymous
I fucking love these threads.
>> Anonymous
http://www.dionaea-house.com/

Make sure you have a few hours to read, and that you don't need to sleep until a few hours after that.
>> Anonymous
>>51002138
DONT EVEN JOKE. im sleeping with my Berneli tonight. but seriously

continue...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>50998941
>>50998982
>>50999030
>>50999087
Funny thing is, I heard something after reading that.
>> Anonymous
Calgaryfag here again.
PLEASE POAST MOAR.
>> 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
>>51002318
i got like two 'entries' into that and had to stop, it's fucking lame. terrible/cheesy writing.
>> Anonymous
Don't look behind you, David
>> Anonymous
>>51002473
ok. this one struck a f minor in my heart...im starting to get more and more freaked out as time goes on.
>> 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
Michael

...I am still watching you
>> Anonymous
The following story is not terriby creepy when considered in the context of most horror stories: as a means to provide entertainment via works of fiction. However, the freaky part of the story is how true it really is. The sister of my friend James, Caitlin, was a photography student who lived in Maine. I knew her pretty well, as I was close friends with James and would frequent their house. Caitlin, two years ago, went out on a camping trip out in Canada to take wildlife pictures. She drove out with her tent and food and supplies already in her backpack and went off Northwest. She found a very small town in Ontario and parked the car there, and got out and started hiking.

She walked away from the town for the entire day. She walked about 40 miles into the wilderness, where there were no signs of man. There were no roads, no paths, no cans, no signs, no markers, no nothing, only 10 miles in. The last 30 were completely void of all humanity. She found a relatively comfortable patch of grass and set up her tent, and stayed there for 3 nights, taking pictures of the woods and the woodland creatures. After those three days she returned to the small town, got in her car and drove back to her house in Maine.
>> Anonymous
>>51002814
I lol'd
>> Anonymous
>>51002921
When she developed her pictures, she found very odd pictures. There were of course many that she had taken, but on every roll of film (she took about 10 rolls) there were about three or four pictures of her, sleeping. They were taken at different angles, with her in different positions, just sleeping. There was no one who lived out there. If someone cared enough to follow her, it would have been a lot of work. We don't know who took those pictures, and never will. After that trip, Caitlin has been slightly messed up. She's been in the Psychiatric Ward twice in the past two years and is on anti-psychotics. I have seen the pictures though, she is not making those up. (Side note James and I have grown apart too, I rarely see him anymore.)
>> Anonymous
Pics or it didn't happen.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Look out your window, right now
>> Anonymous
>>51002974
Bigfoot's a creeper
>> Anonymous
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 be looking at SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container. Personnel are to warn each other before blinking.
Description: Moved to Site19 1993, little is known about item number SCP-173's origins. It is constructed from concrete and rebar and was once painted with Crylon brand spraypaint.
SCP-173 is animate and malevolent, if given the chance it will kill anyone within its line of site. Its weakness however is that it does not move while being watched. Despite this paralysis it is still highly dangerous, able to cover at least 2 meters in the literal blink of an eye. It typically kills by either snapping the victim's neck from behind, or grabbing the victim's throat and strangling them. Whatever animates SCP-173 does not give it much force with which to break things; as seen above, a large room with unbarred windows is fully capable of containing it. Its grip however is unbreakable, as when it is not moving the statue is as hard and strong as concrete.
While left alone in its room, one can hear a stone-on-stone scraping from within that is believed to be the sound of the SCP-173 moving about.
The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. We don't know where it comes from or how it arrives but SCP-173's container will slowly fill with these substances. In order to ensure that bacterial growth within does not begin to damage the building it is contained in, and to maintain some level of sanitation, the enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.
>> Anonymous
>>51002882

Casandra, I'm aware, and watching back.
>> Anonymous
((Creepykeeper's note: all typos are (sic). This is how the pasta was first posted about a year ago.))

when i was younger my friends and i used to go to a pool hall a little ways outside of town. we'd all grown up in an apartment complex relatively close by, and we'd been swiping smokes out of the vending machine since we were 10, and shooting pool there since we were 13; and now that we were 18 or 19 the bartenders were pretty good about forgetting how old we were. so this was a place we went to a LOT, i knew and was friendly with almost everyone that walked in the door. one night i was pretty much the only customer in the place, so the bartender and i were playing 14.1 continuous shots before each time the other person broke. since wed been playing for hours i'd done a lot of shots (the bartender not so many :P ) when the door flew open and in walked two of my friends, call them jake and jenny. now jake was just about the biggest badass of a 19 year old id ever met in my life; before that night i would have sworn there was nothing in the world that could have scared him. if any of you have ever read any of the sin city graphic novels, or seen the movie, this kid is a younger version of marv. prettier, i imagine, since his face wasnt all scarred up, but other than that just like him. nevertheless, he was obviously nervous about something. he had both of his arms around jenny and she was just curled up against his chest about as tight as she could get. it was really cold out, and i couldnt see her face because she had it pressed so far into jakes coat, but i could see her shoulders shake as she sobbed against jakes chest.
>> Anonymous
>>51003331
jake half carried her over to where the bartender and i were playing and tried to sit her down, but she wouldnt let go of him. i had to help detangle them, and when we finally got her sat down she grabbed both of us and wouldnt let go. so we sat right next to her and the bartender brought her some coffee-+, and we began to get her settled down. when she was finally calm enough to talk, what she jake told me was probably the creepiest thing id ever heard up to that point. but what she told me next was downright scary... and the WAY she told it ill remember for the rest of my life. she spoke totally without emotion. like someone that knew she was going to die and was resigned to her fate, just reading lines out of a script because shed been had told to and didnt know what else to do. all the color that had come back into her face since she arrived drained back out. she didnt start sobbing again, but tears poured out of her eyes and she wouldnt look anywhere but in her lap, and god help me if i never see anyone that scared again ill have no complaints about my life. t seems that jenny had been alone in her house and heard a knocking on her door. expecting jake (they were probably gonna bone) she'd gotten up from the couch and unlocked the door without looking to see who it was, saying 'come on in!' as she returned to her seat.
>> Anonymous
>>51003169
Thats from a tv show.
>> Anonymous
>>51003376
she said as she sat down she looked back because she hadnt heard anyone come in. the door was wide open, and there was a young kid standing in the entryway, his eyes wandering over the house. then he smiled and walked in bringing a shadow or something with him (not really a shadow, i guess, what she actually told me was that when he came in it looked like the night came after him, but im pretty sure if i had just said that people would call it hokey and laugh this story off or say i was just making it up). and then he looked at her, still smiling, and began to speak. but she didnt hear what he was saying, because as soon as their eyes met she felt pure terror, and that the 'world started to go out'. the last thing she remembers before coming to in jakes car were the thoughts 'mistake. die. help.' jake took over after that, saying when he pulled up to her house he could tell something was wrong; said he could just feel it. he was surprised to see the door open and the lights off, so he rushed in calling for jenny or her folks. according to jake, as soon as he crossed he felt different. said it was like the air was thicker and darker, hard to move through, harder to think in, impossible to see. he felt fuzzy and sleepy and scared like hed never been before, but he kind of shook himself out of it and called jenny's name again. when he did, he said he heard a kind of hiss and felt something looking at him. he said he felt HATED by it. he didnt know how long it watched him, but he was terrified until all of the sudden there was a bang loud enough to rattle the doors on the cupboards and the presence he felt was gone.
>> Anonymous
>>51003451
at that point he could see again, although the lights were still out, and what he saw was jenny standing sort of to the side of the couch, just staring off at nothing. he shook her and she didnt respond, he slapped her and she just moaned a little. since he was scared shitless and the lights didnt work, he carried jenny out to his car and decided to drive to the pool hall where he knew there were lights and probably friends. i didnt know what to make of the story. my normal inclination would be to call bullshit, but jakes no actor and i could see he was scared shitless, and jenny was in a state beyond acting. neither was up for the kind of civilized company that would probably be rolling into the bar later, so i told them to head back to my place. they both had keys, so they were going to go let themselves in while i chatted with the bartender till someone else came in (he threatened to throw me a severe beating if i left him alone after what hed just heard). finally one of the other regulars came in and i went out and started up my truck. i was letting it warm up a bit when there was a rap on my passenger side door. for a second i felt a kind of dread that till that point id only imagined could exist, but only for a second. then i went numb. i could still feel the fear, but it was distant. kind of like a toothache that you put that ambasol shit on, it still hurts but youre kind of disassociated from the pain. anyway, i reached over and opened the door (window didnt roll down) and there was THE kid, and he started talking.
>> Anonymous
why did you leave me, anthony

why?

...
>> Anonymous
>>51003494
'hey, mister, its awfully cold out and im all alone, can i have a ride?' youd think that someone that had just heard all that i had would just fucking bail at that point, but to tell the truth i didnt feel that was an option. it was like it just wasnt allowed for some reason. also, i felt exactly the same thing jake had described when it came to being fuzzy; i was already sort of buzzing and when i saw the kid it was like my brain shut down almost totally. it was like it was very difficult to think of anything he didnt want me to think of. i started to choke out the word 'no' but before i could get it out he spoke again: 'come on mister, its freezing and im so young. besides, you know what its like to be a kid, alone and afraid and COLD. dont you?' and the thing was, he was right. as a kid id run away from home on more than one occasion, and at least once probably nearly died because of pulling that shit at the wrong time of the year. i remember thinking, 'hey, this kid aint so bad. hes just scared, like i was. and if i dont let him in, hell probably die.' i thought about it and all the sudden it popped into my head that if i didnt give the kid a ride and he died id be a murderer, and to this day i think that little boy put that thought in my head. so what i did was leave the door open and put my hand back on the wheel. the boy climbed in and shut the door, and when he did the numbing sensation left me; all the fear came back full force, but i still couldnt think straight, or do it quickly. i remember saying 'where?' and the boy looked at me
>> Anonymous
>>51003610
'boy it sure is cold. thanks for the ride. just take me where your friends are going mister. wherever they are going, take me there and drop me off.' 'cant,' i said. he looked straight at me and smiled. 'oh, its ok, mister. just drop me off wherever they are, its ok. i'll be fine.' 'cant. dont have any friends,' i explained. then he looked at me, and i could tell he was angry. his forehead bunched up like he was concentrating and he said 'dont lie to me. why would you lie to me? im just a poor, lonely little boy, whos cold and scared and HUNGRY, and youre lying to me.' and at that point i had to admit to myself, i WAS lying to him. so i put the truck in gear and started driving home. the little boy said nothing on the way; just sat in his seat, looking straight ahead, smiling and humming to himself. my head was still feeling fuzzy, and imo i would probably have done whatever the kid asked me to do; but at that point a cruiser pulled up behind me and flashed its lights. it gave me a little shock, a small fright next to the big one my passenger was causing me, but it shocked me enough that i came back to my senses a little. that kid was pissed, tho. he told me to tell the officer to go away. he said 'tell him your going home and he should leave you alone. tell him to do that and he will.'
>> Anonymous
>>51002379
ANother calgaryian here =[
>> Anonymous
>>51003676
what i did instead took more willpower than anything ive done before or since. when the officer got out of his car, i opened my truck door, got out and put my hands on my head, walked towards him and said 'ive been drinking. drinking and driving all over the goddamn place.' i heard a shriek from the cab of the truck, a godawful noise i'd never care to hear again in life. as shitty as a dui is, i knew right then that id made the right decision; instead of having to get back in the truck and take the kid to my house to do god knows what with my friends, i got to take a breathalyzer. which confirmed that although i wasnt legally drunk, i did have alcohol in my system, and in my state that will get a minor a dui regardless of whether they are legally drunk or not. and so i got sat in the cruiser to wait while the cop processed my stuff and the tow truck came for my vehicle. while i waited i looked out the window right next to me to see the little boy standing directly outside the window, staring at me. HATING me so badly it made me sick to my stomach then, and makes me shiver to remember it now. and thats pretty much the whole story. before anyone asks, i dont actually remember noticing the kids eyes at all; the whole period of time from when he tapped on my door till i got into the cruiser i remember as kind of a vague fugue state. like a dream i had, but a true dream nonetheless. neither jenny nor jake ever mentioned the kids eyes, either. in fact, neither ever mentioned the kid again, and i didnt share with them my own encounter.
>> Anonymous
If you go into your daughter and/or younger sister's room, right now, and place yourPENISinto her tight, juicy, delicousVAGINA, you will find that you are transported to a magical new place...
called Heaven.

do this now, in memory of me,

Amen
>> Anonymous
>>51003378

OP here. Got a source?

Because I sure don't, and I've read multiple threads in /x/ about this pasta (and the cheesy paper-mache bird thing that's usually posted with it).
>> Anonymous
I have to tell you this AS, I have tried this and it works.
I have also paid dearly for my curiosity.

The others have rules, ones which they cannot break. If they do so, unspeakable horrors will be unleashed upon them. However there is a loophole that can only be accessed by the client side. That is, us.

If you are brave or fool hearty enough, you may exploit this loophole as I did.
You see, they aren't like us, they simply have the ability to look similar to us.

Similar enough to trick us, but not perfect.

Go grab a ruler and sit in front of a mirror, any mirror will do, and look yourself dead in the eyes. Then pick a characteristic about yourself that changes over time (I suggest the length of your hair) and start measuring it randomly and quickly, while only reading the measurements in the mirror.

You need to keep measuring as random as possible to make sure it cannot keep up.

After a few random measurements look at the length in the mirror and then check it with your own eyes. You'll notice it's different, quite different.

You'll also notice that your reflection is beggining to move under it's own volition.
At that time you must act quickly and whatever you do, never, ever turn your back on that mirror because now you know the truth now, that they are real, and it knows you know.

To turn your back will mean you will take it's place and it yours.

You must cover that mirror with a black cloth, and make sure while there is breath in your body and life in your bones no harm ever comes to that mirror.

If the mirror should ever crack or break it will escape and you will die a death of unimaginable pain and grief.

And now you know.
>> Anonymous
Let's talk about spontanous human combustion.

According to forensic evidence, fire (or rather, heat) starts at the core of the body and burns outward. Organs go first. Sometimes the heat come and go in a flash, killing in seconds; at others, boiling fat acts like candlewax to keep the body burning for several minutes. All without any warning or discernable cause. Neither conventional nor paranormal science has much to put fourth in the way of a theory; hence "spontainous". Though very rare, it strikes at random, and its aftermath is horrific.

It probably isn't going to hit you, but if it does, there's jack-all you can do about it. Which is ironic because the only factor linking all known cases is distress. One survivor had fallen asleep on his bed brooding after a divorce; he awoke to find his sheets aflame spreading out from his leg, which was reduced to blacken ruins. Traditional cases tell of SHC taking drunks, who certainly have their fair share of troubles.

Now that I've gone over what is known, I'm not going to waste your time with some bullshit occult theory. Instead, I pose you a question: might the source of a victim's fatal distress be fear? Creeping, brooding dread? Excessive contemplation of ghosts, mirror-worlds, the afterlife, or, say.. spontainous human combustion?
>> Anonymous
A knock at the door one morning, and suprise, it's a package for you. You thank the delivery man, close the door, and open the small box. Inside are two things... A wooden cube with a red button on top. The button is covered in a glass enclosure with a hinge, to ensure it is not pressed accidentally, of course. The second item is a typed note, with no address or other identifying feature. It reads "Press this button and we will come to your house the next day, with a cheque for 5 million dollars. We will also take the button unit at that time. As a result of pressing the button, one person, who you do not know, will die instantly." After much thought and anxious pacing, you press the button. The next day, a man arrives with a cheque in your name for 5 million dollars. He takes the button unit from you, but only after assuring you it will move on to another person...
Someone you don't know.
>> Anonymous
Alright
This is a TRUE STORY, not copypasta. I posted the one about the savannah pirates house (if you go there, ask to see the certificates from SPIRIT investigations).
Anyway...
This was about a year into my being a paranormal ivnestigator and it was at a private residence investigation.

Me and 3 other members of the team had just "cleared" (term used once we finish taking base readings, doing any EVP questioning, and taking final readings of a room) and reported back over the radio. Now, normally when we call over the walkietalkie, the EMP meter fluctuates. I was holding it and noticed that it did. We tested it again and reported it, same thing. A straight 1. Well, we were standing in the doorway and all of a sudden, the member on my right, said "Hey whats that in the hallway" I started to turn and saw a black figure out of the corner of my right eye, and it flew towards us. FAST. It went through me, and I felt stunned for a moment and fell to me knees. The guy next to me recoiled his arm, and the female behind me dropped the walkie talkie. It had passed through all 3 of us. We immediately radioed back to base for assistance. We checked our EMF recordered and saw that during that time, the base reading had gone from a 1 to over 200. Temperature had also dropped in the room we were in and the hallway by a few degrees. Once we got back to base (I had to get back with help since I couldn't really stand yet), we immediatly recorded the events and interviews with the people who were there seperate. We all described the same thing. A black shadow that looked "watery" and was roughly 5 feet tall. One of the strangest parts, was that during the time, both of our cameras in the area had IR malfunctions so we only caught a slight shadow moving through other shadows. That was the CREEPIEST moment of my life. I've got one last story and then i'm out for the night.
>> Anonymous
>>51003908
FUCK YOU
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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, that 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
GTFO!

back to /x/ !!!!
>> Anonymous
If you go into this one tiny, dingy one-story bar in Paris, and the right bartender is behind the counter that night, you might be able to see a very exclusive gallery show of the lost works of one Henri Beauchamp. But, to get in, you have to prove you're a devotee of the artist.

You'll be asked, in clear and perfect English, "What would like to partake of this glorious night?". Answer absinthe, no matter what. Any other drink, from whiskey to water, will kill you as you sleep.

The next question will regard the type, and you MUST answer one of two things: "The stuff that Man himself could not bear to take," or, "The good stuff. The best stuff." If you ask for any other absinthe, in any other way, you will be plagued by nightmares for 13 days. Each night's dream will be more horrible than the last, until, upon the thirteenth dream, your nightmare will follow you, every moment of your waking and sleeping life.

Don't try and cheat the barkeep: the door locked behind you.
You have to drink what he gives you, doom or not.
That such a powerful man granted you audience should be enough.
Besides, I've heard that the dying complimented his drinks in their death throes.

If you make it that far before sealing your fate, the bartender will say, "Be sure you handle this with care; this is the finest I have." From here, you may do one of two things: Say, word for word, "I overestimated my fortitude, and I bid you good eve.". If the barkeep nods, you may leave the door you entered, unharmed and with nothing gained and nothing lost (except the time spent inside).

Or you can go on.
>> Anonymous
>>51004306
NO. im not sleeping. go away.
>> Anonymous
>>51004411
You will be given a glass with a seven-sided rim, with twist ever so delicately around the basin until forming a sleek and simple handle. You will also recieve a very, very, very special absinthe spoon, in the shape of a key; the holes at the key's top serve as the draining point for the alcohol to pour over the sugar cube. And, of course, an unmarked bottle, stripped long ago of its label, scraps of paper sticking to its sides, covered in the rot of the decades past.

The spoon is completely flat, but has two distinct sides: one with a groove along the shaft of the key, and one without. Turn the shaft down, so its groove will be face down. If you attempt this face up, your absinthe will taste foul, your nose will burn, and youe eyes will shrivel in their sockets with unspeakable horrors not of this world.

Now, if your spoon is the right way up, begin preparing the absinthe as one would (put the sugar on the spoon, and pour the alcohol over so it gains its color and "special qualities").

Say "cheers" to your friend, the barkeep, and bottoms up. If you don't, the absinthe will burn every innard it touches with the power and pain of sulfuric acid.

If you've done it right, the already dim lights will go off, and darkness will consume the bar. Don't be afraid; the darkness is the cue that you've been approved for the exhibit. Wait out the darkness, and keep silent as the dead, lest the bartender decide to make you so.

Eventually (not too long, two to three minutes), a green floodlight will shine brightly on a door on the far wall of the bar. The bar will be bathed in green, and not just from the floodlight. Little luminescent spheres will gently drift through the room, and the barkeep will no longer be there... nor any other unassuming patron inside before.
>> Anonymous
>>51003950
HAHAHA OH WOW ROCKED
>> Anonymous
>>51004486
There's no danger by this point... consider it a safe point. If you didn't finish the absinthe, you don't have to, but you might need the alcohol. Either way, take the spoon and put it in the keyhole of the geen-lit portal's doorknob. It will fit perfectly, and reach the end of the keyhole with a resounding click.

Inside is a small elevator, with the most beautiful woman any mortal eyes can imagine, bathed in the green glow in just such an angle that the light refracts beyond her into the shape of wings.

The Green Fairy herself will ask you, "Going up?", and considering all the trouble you went through, it would only make sense to say yes.

Now, you have one more hurdle to clear. She will ask you, as you cross the line from the bar to the compartent, "How would you compare Beauchamp's surrealism to that of, say, Rene Magritte?" For your reply, you must say, "I've come to see more than art tonight."

I you don't, the green floodlight will blow out, the doors will slam shut, and the elevator will plummet through a seemingly infinite blackness before a read light grows brighter as the elevator nears the very depths of Hell.

Now, if your elevator begins to go up, the green light will also fade, but in its place will be the cool glow of the moon. But, before you even recognize it, the elevator will reach the top of its... well, let's call it a shaft to not get too intricate.

Now, I'm not as sure about this as the rest, but I've heard that, if the Green Fairy kisses you on the cheek as she leaves the elevator, you will always be blessed with a creative inspiration: a permanent, ever-changing muse. You can't ask her, you can't kiss her; she has to do it of her own volition. If not... well, nothing, but no reason to do it anyway and anger the woman who is responsible for keeping the Beauchamp paintings safe for so many years.
>> Anonymous
>>51004622
You will enter, from the elevator, a turn-of-the-century parlor, with a large poster of Henri Beauchamp on the left side of the opposite wall; on the right is a door.

Taking the time to read the poster is a fairly good idea, as it explains the very significance of Mr. Beauchamp. You see, he was a struggling surrealist in the 1920s, always making art to try and be free of all premeditiation, and managed to do so. But, after one night in a tiny, dingy one-story bar in Paris, he began to paint... patterns.

First it was geometric patterns. Then complete fractals. Then images that would be in the newspaper the next day. The next week. Then from fity years ago. 100 in the future, 200 in the past...

Then, on his last night of life, he kidnapped three young girls from theit night, murdered them, and painted his finest masterpieces' reds and yellows with the blood and bile of virgins.

He committed suicide immediately after painting exactly 13 of these.

These are behind the door.

The first six, from the left, show, from left to right: the genesis of the universe, the only true visage of God as viewable to the eyes of man, the true image of Jesus Christ, the sprawling clouds of Heaven, every Pope from the first to faces not yet recognizable, and a portrait of Jesus' appearance in his Second Coming.

The other six, on the right, show, from right to left: the cataclysmic of the universe, the only true visage of Satan as viewable to the eyes of man, the true image of Judas, the sprawling flames of Hell, every human-embodied demon from the first to faces not yet recognizable, and a portrait of the Antichrist in his Second Coming.

Now, six and six make twelve. But what of the thirteenth?
>> Anonymous
>>51003974
alright, my last story.
This is what got me intrested in the paranormal and happened in Iraq.
My unit was preparing to leave a FOB and return to the US We were on FOB honor in baghdad. Me and another soldier were told to head to what we called the "tomahawk" building (If you've been to Iraq, you know which one it is). Our job was to clear the building of any equipment that might accidently gte left behind (Cots, Flashlights, Chairs ETC). We did the first 2 floors and thne moved to the basement.
Now, "rumor" was that there was a room in the basement that was a circle and had 3 cells in it. It also was said to have bloodstained floors. This wasn't really unusual for Iraq, since Saddam had at one time used to building as an office complex for the IRG and they tortured political prisoners. Anyway, we were moving through the basement and hadn't seen anything for awhile. Soon, we saw 2 ground-level reflections at the end of the hall. There was no power in the basement, but we had NVG's so we figured it was a cat, and decided to go see if it was stuck or something. About midway down the hall, my NVG's burned out. I pulled out my LED flashlight and we continued. A bit closer when we could start to see that the little orbs were eyes and about 1 foot off the ground and the other soldiers NVG's went out. He turned on his surefire (attached to his rifle). We continued down the hall. Then, the eyes disappeared. We decided that it didn't need help and started to turn to leave. When we started to turn around, on the wall to my left was a pentagram and the worlds "666 sign of the beast" carved into it. Well, at that point I drew my pistol and loaded it, as he loaded a magazine into his rifle. We tried to call back to the TOC over the radio, but since we were underground it didn't work. Anyway, I pulled out my camera and took some pictures of the area. There was a hallway right to out right that went to a barred door.
(Continued)
>> Anonymous
>>51004665
It's turned around on its wall pin, the image facing the wall. The space around it is roped up at a very wide diameter, and under the flipped image is a sign, in three languages. The top is in the scriptures of the seraphim, the bottom in the runs of the highest demonic orders, and in the middle, in Roman letters.

DO

NOT

TOUCH

Now, like the kiss, I can't say this part with as much certainty, but all the same... I heard that, somehow, as he died, Beauchamp flayed his skin, his organs, his very soul, into some sort of collage. How he took his dead body and created such a horiffic masterpiece, I could never say, nor would I ever dare to.

So... if you make it, maybe you flip the canvas over and tell me sometime? You can tell me about over a drink.
>> Anonymous
>>51004777
WE didn't go that way, because we weren't retarded, BUT, I assume it lead to the rumored room. Anyway, with loaded weapons, we slowly made out way back out of the area, and on the way out saw the eyes only one more time. the other soldier shined his light at them and there was nothing there. We eventually left and reported what had happened. A 2 squad team then went in to check what we had reported (They went it with extra equipment and alreayd loaded weapons). The SCO gave them permission to fire if they felt threatened. I also went with, and brought one of our audio recorders and a camcorder. While we didn't run into any eyes this time, we did find the carving again. The SSG in charge of the group determined that due to structural damage it was too dangerous to go down the hallway we had seen before we left, but the gate was still there and it was closed.
Anyway, we did experience equipment manfunctions on the way out (Almost all out flashlights and NVG's stopped working). Also, the camera though recording, had only recorded souths. The Audio recorder though, had captured some phrases in arabic that our translators couldn't understand and said was just "gibberish". Anyway, thats my other scary moment in life. (Not counting IED's or getting shot at) BTW, we looked at the LED lights afterword, and they were FRIED. I never even knew you could fry an LED flashlight. The circuitboard was literally melted inside the flashlight. I'll post tomorrow if i can find them, but i'm off for now.
PEACE /b/!
>> Anonymous
>>51003908
I'm going to need a bit less PHAIL if you want to remain in this thread...

Also, part of the reason they think drunk people are more susseptible is the fact that alcohol is flammable and that it is spread throughout your body. Because of that a mis-fired severed nerve in a cavity within your body (For example, your Sinuses) can cause your blood to ignite, which of course, makes your organs burn from the inside out.
But thats just one of the theories.
>> Anonymous
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage). So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the clown statue in the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have a clown statue."

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown statue was ever found, but there were footprints in the grass outside the window. .
>> Anonymous
I don't know if any of you have ever spent any time in prison but I was locked up for 16 months back in 1986.
When they assigned me to my cell and walked me in, I saw my cell mate standing against the wall eyeballing me. He didn't have any belongings in the cell which was good, it meant I'd have more room for my own stuff.
Throughout the entire 16 months he never said a word to me. No matter how much I tried to start up a conversation he would never respond.
I never saw him out on the yard either but, in this particular prison, yard time was scheduled in shifts according to your name, just like meal time. I always assumed that he would do things whenever I was out on the yard or at chow because, otherwise, I never saw him do anything other than sit.
Upon my release, I said goodbye to him and, of course, he didn't say anything.
I turned to the guard escorting me out and I said "Well, I sure did like my cell mate. I never heard so much as a peep out of him."
He laughed. Then he turned to me and said "Yeah, how did you like having the whole cell to yourself? With the new prison up in Sandusky, we've got enough room to give everybody their own cells."

Needless to say, I shat brix.
>> Anonymous
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage). So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the grinning man statue in the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have a grinning man statue."

The police found every cock in the house had been mongled, including the babysitter's, within three minutes of the call. No grinning man statue was ever found, but there were reports of at least one happy negro being spotted outside the window. .
>> Anonymous
>>51005379
Probably just a mentally created image due to the extreme stress caused by being imprisoned after getting caught having sex with a panda.
>> Anonymous
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage). So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the mudkips doll in the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not liek mudkips."

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No mudkips doll was ever found, but there was some mud and water spattered across the window. .
>> Anonymous
>>51005519
That was actually a REALLY good story till you ruined it with the ending. It sent a chill up my spine till I read the "Cock Mongled" part. Then I just thought about how close you came to EPICALLY WINNING.
>> Anonymous
there is a hole in my walls were the voices come in. the hole is only the size of a pencil eraser however depending on the severity of the weather outside and the isolation of the subject within the house the hole can stretch and scew to a size comparable to that of a human mouth. The voices, varied as they are always speak the same words and always echo the same inaudible mechanical static. The hole is in my room just inches from my bed. I often ake up from a pleasant dream due to a sudden horrific image invading my mind. A column of teeth growing around my wrist or a blackened eye staring at me from an inch away. I never wake up screaming, the wall takes care of that for me. It beckons me to put my eye to the hole. Blackened light pours out or should I say the light from the room is snared and pulled inextricably into the void. I want to teach you my horror, i want to tell the world of my terrible plight, however my friends have all left for the evening and there is a terrible storm brewing outside. I can feel the light draining away and pulling me towards that hole in the wall. I can hear the voices reaching out to me like bloodied fingers. 'don't you want to take a look?'
>> Anonymous
>>51005607
see>>51005303

This is the original. It isn't bad when you first read it, but it's been fucked up repeatedly with people inserting unfunny and unscary things (like angel statues and birds) in place of the clown.

Please don't reply to this post. Please don't post anything until you've lurked for at least another month.
>> Anonymous
requesting more creepy images, please
>> Anonymous
In the early 1900's a little known monastery in Missouri, which was home to around 40 or so monks, was investigated for its complete and utter abandonment, seemingly overnight. On the morning of June 8th, a monk who had been ill returned to the monastery after a week in the town's hospital, nearly 5 miles away. When he arrived, it was completely deserted.

Authorities were to discover that the grounds were empty. No sign of turmoil, struggle or violence was observed. Clothes, possessions and food were seemingly all left behind.

The stumped officials soon decided to bring the lone monk in to determine if anything looked out of place. After hours of carefully scouring the grounds, they finally came upon the catholicon (the main chapel). The monk, instantly shocked, fell to his knees and gasped. The crucifix had been turned upside down and stained black. As a result of his shock, the previously ill monk tipped forward and died on the spot.

Officials continued their investigation without any luck. Before long, the case was shut due to a lack of sufficient and tangible evidence. Interestingly, the grass outside the main hall, chapel and living cloisters was blighted dark grey, as if it were burned.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>51005948

Soon the monestary was renovated and a new order was brought in. Within weeks, it was evident that something was clearly wrong. Items would frequently go missing, certain areas were extremely cold and others (sometimes feet away) hot, a low droning chant was reported to be heard on numerous occasions, and the chapel was entirely devoid of echo.

It was around the time of renovation on the old headmasters quarters that a hidden alcove was discovered. It was located when one of the monks removed a loose panel behind a bookshelf. In it were many bizarre relics and texts. Among them were skin, animal teeth, a vial of blood and a set of runes carved onto pelvic bone fragments. One of the headmaster's personal books revealed that he had been leading the unknowing monks in deceptive satanic rituals. With the reversed intent of the prayers and ceremonies, the headmaster had succeeded in leading what could best be described as a satanic cult.

About a six months after the new order had arrived, it was decided that the monastery should be abandoned and boarded. It's news pressing garned local attention and four people had come forth and reported a bright yellow flash in the sky over the monastery the night of June 6th.

The monastery is still boarded up to this day and is in an advanced state of deterioration. Local teenagers still frequent the location for a cheap thrill and a place to drink. People have been reported missing in this area over the years, and although none of the cases had been officially linked to monastery, local lore says otherwise.

>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
think about it, have you ever seen a person die? yet later when you go to the funeral you are made to believe what you are told about the circumstances of this death. Your friend was said to have gotten drunk and driven his car into a light pole. But your friend was not a drinker. Your friend wouldn't have even taken that road, and strangely enough during the entirety of the funeral his wife does cry or bat an eye even once. If you wear to put an ear to her mouth you would hear the words that sent your friend beyond oblivion.
>> Anonymous
behind you
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>51005863

I don't have many pics on this comp, andy my Grade A Creepypast doc is officially depleated.

I could start getting into the second-rate stuff, but I get the feeling this thread has run its coarse. At this point we usually just screw around; if we're lucky, a few folks will stick around to talk about shadow people/relate real-life creepy stories/otherwise make this their private /x/ for an hour or two.

If we're REALLY lucky, someone will post some fresh pasta. That usually happens at the end of the thread, as people are inspired to start writing near the beginning.
>> Anonymous
>>51006220


Fresh pasta is here>>51005948and>>51006004
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
If anything in this thread has scared you and you need to sleep

Here.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=bh6xpck4OSQ
>> Anonymous
>>51006310

Yea, I posted before I read that.

Well written, polished, uninteresting and predictable.

A big crutch here is the length; yea, it doesn't take long to read, but there is still a lot more pressure on multi-post creepypasta to deliver.

Still, writing consistantly at this level of quality is how you stumble upon epic pasta. What
>> Anonymous
>>51005607
just replace mudkip with statue or soemthing
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Hello whispering lambs.

Amidst the fire that burns with hallow light is a sole figurine that remains chilled. Beware this figurine, as upon the moment that your eyes make contact with its surface, it will temporarily awaken. No lack of sight or involuntary action that results in this shall return in pardon.

Halt. You now have a choice amongst four.

Wait
Run
Open
Try

Gauge the man you are and choose wisely. Now is the moment to choose in absolute -- What is the proper decision?

To this question I have no true answer. I have no thought that cannot be questioned by the validity of the statements laid before me, laid before you.

All I have are the final words of a man scribbled onto paper. The final words of my father.


The final utterance that escaped her lips was a humble warning amongst blood curdling screams:

As it sleeps whispers escape its confines. Hysterically, these faint sounds enthrall those furthest from its reach.

Be aware
>> Anonymous
in 1994 i was only years old. I knew nothing about death and I had no idea what a human skull looked like. I lived with my mother on the end of a dead end road that lead into the forest. This was before New Jersey was built up into suburbs and my house was the only one for miles in all directions. The nearest building was the police station 3 miles down the other end of the dirt road. Well one day while playing at the end of the road where the trees had been chopped and the was room to play with my cars i came upon a new pile of dirt that was not there the day before. Happily i began to plow threw it with my tonka truck and even took some of the sand into my hand and put it into my pocket for later. Over the course of the summer i managed to move half of the 6 foot tall hill of sand from one end of the grove to another. then on July 23rd my tiny fingers fell upon a yellowish material I had never seen before.
>> Anonymous
>>51007037
Thinking it as a large stone I wrapped my finger into a black hole on it's surface and tugged at it with all my might. Try as I may I was unable to break it free. Thinking it might bye a nice gift to present to my mother I decided to stay in the meadow until dark and dig the object out completely with my hands. light fell behind the canopy of the trees and soon there was nothing but starlight on my shoulders. My mother worked until very late and I thought that a nice gift might be just what she needed to brighten up her day. Final after hours of digging I wrapped my hands around the object and began to loose it from the soil.Feeling very anxious my eyes fell upon a star in the sky. It shifted first to the left and then to the right. At that moment I believe I heard.. voices approaching from the road in the distance. A flashlight fell upon my face and I fell back from the pile with a jerk. Sounds like approaching dogs flooded over me and it was as if a black drape had been pulled over my face and beaten about by a unforgiving wind. I took the object in my hand and screaming madness ran with it all the way back home. I waited in darkness for my mother to come home that night but she never did. Come to think of it I hadn't seen her but out of the corner me eye for the entirety of the summer. 3 days later my father came to pick me up for our weekly visit. He began to shake when he saw the skull bleaching on the window sill. He pulled a gun from suitcase and put it up to his head.

Now there are two piles of sand in the meadow beyond where i used to live as a child. I can never go back. I don't want to go back. My childhood is over. That summer is gone forever.
>> Anonymous
Ever brows your creepypasta.doc and find random gibberish- in big, bold red text- that you KNOW you didn't put there?

This time it says "ECNELIS". It wouldn't be creepy if this were the first time it'd happined.
>> Anonymous
>>51007133
>>51007133
YOU FOOL YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL!
>> Anonymous
>>51007133
silence
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
when you see it,
well, you won't know until you find it
or vice versa
>> Anonymous
>>51007062

First half is pretty cool. Second half (which is to say, second 4th of the whole two-part pasta) is part cool and part ehwhatever.

Good pasta is hard to finish.
>> Anonymous
>>51001161
fucking lame, gb2/newagehippycrystalshop/
>> Anonymous
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather gave me a cuckoo clock today
my grandfather has been dead for 37 years.
>> Anonymous
>>51001161

So when the first person projected who stole his body?

Where does the surplus of spirits relative to bodies come from?
>> Anonymous
>>51008249
from legion
>> 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
there is no heaven
there exist no place called hell

however you will die and there is a place that waits for your entry.

walls run along the floor and the ky is but an illusion raise your hand and the wind will cut it, stand to tall and your head will press against infinity. Dawn approaches in the distance draining away instead of bringing in the light. your body breaks like brittle christmas ornaments and fractures blowing away as pure energy into the wind. Your conciousness is pulled along towards the light in the center. you edge in closer and closer feeling warm and at peace as you reach the very outermost edge. it is then that a human hand latches onto your wrist. your body is shoved into the ground and used as support for a terrible beast to inch itself closer to the light. it means to take your place. ad soon you will take it's.
>> Anonymous
>>51008512
now see that is how you do it. i was just about to nod off you fuck wit, now I'm going to be up past sunrise.
>> Anonymous
>>51008602

Love you too
>> Anonymous
There is a creature that stands at closed doors.

One day, it will be there when you open the door.
>> Anonymous
The lights in your hallway begin to flicker. When the light is on, you see nothing. But each time it goes out, you can make out the silhouette of a figure. Each time the light goes off, it gets closer.
>> Anonymous
>>51008334

So go take Legion's body.

Motherfucker.
>> Anonymous
>>51007429
I don't see anything...
>> Anonymous
on the back of your head there exists a mark. it can be seen be nobody other than you and it cannot be perceived through a reflection. i am sorry to tell you this but the day will come when you do see this mark. it will be the last thing you ever see.
>> 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
Fuck you, /b/. I was about to go to sleep, then I stumbled upon this thread.
I knew it was a horrid idea, but I was so driven to read it all.

I won't be sleeping for awhile.
>> Anonymous
>>51004237
stupid and unscary
>> Anonymous
>>51008512

Short, sweet, and effective; a classic.

And one of the few really good ones to come out of /x/.

... I should save that, actually.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>50998154
>> Anonymous
Don't close the curtains or the blinds.

It wasn't a figment of your imagination.
>> Anonymous
>>51008851

Arguably, very few of them are "scary".

They're just supposed to make you think, and to enduce a certian mindset.
>> 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
>>51008512
yeah, that one gave me a chill x_x.
>> Anonymous
>>51008824

Just hit 6:00am, and my phone rang, no message was left.

Fuck you!
>> Anonymous
>>51009251

Dood, what're you talking about...the post you're linking to has nothing in it
>> Anonymous
>>51009251

lul dumb nigger responding to a blank post. gb2bed man, you need the sleep
>> Anonymous
Any night, around 10 or 11 pm, take yourself to a flat, open area where you can walk in a straight line for two minutes or so without running into anything. Once there, face in the direction you plan to walk, with your arms at your sides and your hands relaxed. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath. At precisely 11:09 and 20 seconds, start walking. Be sure to take one step every second, no more, no less. Do not open your eyes, and do not hesitate. Count your steps in your head as you go. On the one hundred and eleventh step, say the word "One" out loud, and stop. Your breath will catch in your throat, and your hair will stand on end. For the next ten seconds, you will be unable to move a single muscle in your body, no matter how hard you try. After these ten seconds, you will be able to move and breathe again – however, you will then start to feel the sensation of cold metal claws seizing each of your fingers by the base and plucking them clean off of your hand. It will not hurt. You will surely be horrified, but do not open your eyes, and do not move. If you move or open your eyes, all that anyone will ever find of you is your two fingerless hands, severed cleanly at the wrist. Once the claws have stopped, and all of your fingers have been plucked off, stay still for another ten seconds. It may help to count. After these ten seconds have passed, you may open your eyes. You will find that your fingers are still quite firmly attached to your hands. Go home immediately, and go directly to bed. Speak to no one for the rest of the night, and enter no building that you do not consider your home.
>> Anonymous
>>51009367

Yea, it must have been deleted, I've got a dead link (i.e. green text with a post number).

Can you copy/paste for us?
>> Anonymous
>>51009586

The next day, you will have become One of Them. Once per day, as long as there is even a sliver of sunlight, you may point at someone and speak the word "One." That night, he will face the same trial that you faced. If you see that person the next day, you will know that he, too, has become One of Them. If not, then do not be alarmed if you do not feel hungry the rest of the day.
>> 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
I play the harmonica terribly. In 1998 my brother Thomas K. and I (Joseph K.) went canoing through the river behind or stepfather's parent's house. It had snowed fiercely the night before and the middle of the river was a constantly rising mound of white. My brother and I were joking about the red haired girl who lived next door and how terrible her breathe was when we heard the sound of a gun shot. Then we heard nothing. Not a footstep in the snow, not a bird in a tree. Even the river suddenly fell silent. My brother and I took our oars in hand and held our heads down low looking at each other in a fit of dismay. We continued in this way downstream in complete silence for minuets that seemed like hours. Every passing second taking us farther and farther away from the safety of our stepfather's parents house. Now we were in the tangle of the woods. The ice in the middle of the river continued to rise and the trees on periphery grew closer ad closer to us on the boat. At this point we the river had picked up in pace and my brother whispered to me that the only way we could go home would be to dock near a tree and walk back through the snow.
>> Anonymous
>>51008512
I don't get it. Someone please explain it to me.
>> Anonymous
>>51009783
Try as we might neither of us could grab hold to one of the snarled branches however close they grew. My hands fell upon a blackened finger of a branch and snapped between my fingers. The sound exploded like a cannon through the silence of the forest. Suddenly the water roared and animals called out in every direction through the surrounding darkness. They seemed to call out in order to hide something. As if they were drowning out an even more terrible noise. soon the river slowed to a crawl and we were nearly able to come to a stop. The ice ridge in the river began to slope down and down stopping at the end of the river were the water flowed into the nearby lake. Again the world was silent. I heard one footstep in the snow. My brother turned as he heard the other.

The bullet entered through his jaw throwing his body into the slope of snow that fell into the lake. what remained of his head was small enough to scoop up and fit into your pocket. Running towards my step grandparents house I could not bring myself to look over my shoulder. Trembling stumbling I ran through the fading light of the forest falling into the river several times along the way. The animals, the birds the deer, the wild dogs, they all called out in order to shield me from the horrible sound. They called out in pain and died one by one. Soon there was nothing but the clam bubbling of the river to cloak the sounds of my footsteps and I was only 30 feet from the back yard gate when that disappeared as well.
>> Anonymous
>>51009849

A foot step approached through the distant snow. I turned to look and was greeted face to face with a twisted and decaying face. It's eyes were filled with the muck of the river and it mouth hung low as it let out a maddening cry. In fear I screamed. I screamed so loud the noise of the beast itself was drowned away and in that flash of blood and snow it completely disappeared.

Now as I lay awake at night I can swear I hear a footstep. I play my harmonica to keep the boogieman at bay. I never returned to that land to find my brothers remains. I never even had a chance to retrieve my canoe. Suddenly the clicking of my keyboard fells silent. I heard a doorknob turn on the other side of the house.
>> Anonymous
>>51009829
stop making us read it again you asshole that is seriously creepy!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>51008729
well looks like i'm never leaving my apartment.
>> Anonymous
>>51010401

I dun get it
>> Anonymous
One day a little girl came home from school, a freshly colored drawing in her hands as she skipped through the front door of her home. She found her mother in her parent's bedroom, where the woman was making the bed after a quick afternoon treat with her husband. She smiled at the girl and asked what she had in her hands.
"I drew a picture for you today," she replied, and held up the paper.
Her mother stopped making the bed and stared in shock at the paper, which depicted a man and woman sleeping soundly in bed, and the window beside it open, with a large, scary looking figure leaning down over them, dressed exactly like the man sleeping in bed and holding a knife into him while smiling wickedly.
"Sweetheart, why did you draw something like this?" asked the mother, horrified.
"Our teacher asked us to draw something we dreamed about," answered her daughter. "And I dreamed that when I got up to ask you for a glass of water, I saw a man that looked like daddy holding a knife and standing over daddy's bed, and then he pulled daddy out of bed and put him underneath it, and climbed in beside you."
The girl's mother dropped to her knees beside the bed and smiled shakily at her daughter while pulling up the bedskirt. "Well I guess we just need to show you that it was only a dream, right?" She looked beneath the bed and started to scream as the doorknob turned and a man entered the room, the smile on his face growing larger.
>> Anonymous
>>51010467
look at the furthest tomb stone ad read the name out loud, blink then read it a gain to yourself.
>> Anonymous
>>51010512
dribble i say!
>> Anonymous
>>51010514

I can't read it, I've been screwing up my eyes all day with a microscope. Hint plx?
>> Anonymous
>>51008824
Please please tell me others can see this please
>> Anonymous
>>51010820
that link doesn't work
>> Anonymous
>>51010820

Dood, what are you talking about?

I don't see anything.
>> Anonymous
>>51010845
>>51010841
Please. Im really serious, im actually really scared right now
>> Anonymous
>>51010820
you just typed>>51008824but it's not a link to me
>> Anonymous
>>51010878
Don't take your eyes off your monitor. It's outside your window.
>> Anonymous
Fuck off guys seriously.

Would you please just say you can see it
>>51008824
>>51008824
>>51008824
>>51008824
>> Anonymous
>>51010878

Hey, we're not messing with you. You're just giving us a dead link.
>> Anonymous
>>51010922
oh jeezus, its too late for this. i hope thats my cat, seriously oh christ
>> Anonymous
>>51010947

Dood, seriously, quit posting the same dead link.
>> Anonymous
>>51010998
You took your eyes off your monitor, didn't you. Now it can come in.
>> Anonymous
>>51002473
you know fuck you i live an hour from the cities, now im going to find my gun
>> Anonymous
GUYS! My cat is right next to me.

She wasnt the one making the sounds

oh fuck, please help me. say you can see this>>51008824
>> Anonymous
BEFORE THE LAW stands a doorkeeper. To this door-keeper there comes a man from the country and prays for admittance to the Law. But the doorkeeper says that he cannot grant admittance at the moment. The man thinks it over and then asks if he will be allowed in later. "It is possible," says the doorkeeper, "but not at the moment." Since the gate stands open, as usual, and the doorkeeper steps to one side, the man stoops to peer through the gateway into the interior. Observing that, the doorkeeper laughs and says: "If you are so drawn to it, just try to go in despite my veto. But take note: I am powerful. And I am only the least of the door-keepers. From hall to hall there is one doorkeeper after another, each more powerful than the last. The third doorkeeper is already so terrible that even I cannot bear to look at him." These are difficulties the man from the country has not expected; the Law, he thinks, should surely be accessible at all times and to everyone, but as he now takes a closer look at the doorkeeper in his fur coat, with his big sharp nose and long, thin, black Tar-tar beard, he decides that it is better to wait until he gets permission to enter. The doorkeeper gives him a stool and lets him sit down at one side of the door. There he sits for days and years. He makes many at-tempts to be admitted, and wearies the doorkeeper by his importunity.
>> Anonymous
>>51011095

I'm not seeing anything guys. I think this /b/tard is just crazy. Or needs sleep.
>> Anonymous
>>51011121
The doorkeeper frequently has little interviews with him, asking him questions about his home and many other things, but the questions are put indifferently, as great lords put them, and always finish with the statement that he cannot be let in yet. The man, who has furnished himself with many things for his journey, sacrifices all he has, however valuable, to bribe the doorkeeper. The doorkeeper accepts every- thing, but always with the remark: "I am only taking it to keep you from thinking you have omitted any- thing." During these many years the man fixes his at-tention almost continuously on the doorkeeper. He for- gets the other doorkeepers, and this first one seems to him the sole obstacle preventing access to the Law. He curses his bad luck, in his early years boldly and loudly, later, as he grows old, he only grumbles to himself. He becomes childish, and since in his yearlong contempla-tion of the doorkeeper he has come to know even the fleas in his fur collar, he begs the fleas as well to help him and to change the doorkeeper's mind. At length his eyesight begins to fail, and he does not know whether the world is really darker or whether his eyes are only deceiving him. Yet in his darkness he is now aware t of a radiance that streams inextinguishably from the gateway of the Law. Now he has not very long to live.
>> Anonymous
People on the internet can't see me. I'm not online, I'm in your home.

Stop wasting time, They are going to catch you. You have seven minutes tops.
>> Anonymous
>>51011159
Before he dies, all his experiences in these long years gather themselves in his head to one point, a ques-tion he has not yet asked the doorkeeper. He waves him nearer, since he can no longer raise his stiffening body. The doorkeeper has to bend low towards him, for the difference in height between them has altered much to the man's disadvantage. "What do you want to know now?" asks the doorkeeper; "you are insati-able." "Everyone strives to reach the Law," says the man, "so how does it happen that for all these many years no one but myself has ever begged for admit-tance?" The doorkeeper recognizes that the man has reached his end, and to let his failing senses catch the words roars in his ear: "No one else could ever be admitted here, since this gate was made only for you. I am now going to shut it."
>> Anonymous
Oh my lord, this is the creepiest pasta (i hope to god its pasta) i have ever read in my entire life
>>51008824
Someone, im not joking. I dont think im gonna be able to sleep in the dark tonight
>> Anonymous
>>51011167
OH JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSS HELP ME

SAY YOU CAN SEE THIS GUY?

CRUISE CONTROL FOR TERROR
>> Anonymous
>>51011227
It will enter through your window. In the corner, where you won't notice until you're in bed that the window has opened just a tiny bit. By then it's too late.
>> Anonymous
fuck off

whoever that is

fuck off

I cant believe you fucking deleted that post

you goddamn sunofabitch

>> Anonymous
oh jesus, im so freaking scared
>> Anonymous
>>51011227

What are you talking about?

>>51008824

That isn't a link. It just shows up in green for me.
>> Anonymous
>>51010947
hey douchebag, shut the hell up, giving a dead link isn't creepy or funny
>> Anonymous
>>51011417
hey, post creepy or gtfo
>> Anonymous
>>51011265

That's, umm.. That's a dead link dude.

Green text.
>> Anonymous
Well /b/, its been nice knowing you.

And might I say, the best creepy thread evar.

I bid you, adieu. I'll be dead by tonight
>> Anonymous
>>50999240
Shat brix.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Yesterday upon the stair, I saw a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish that he would go away
>> Anonymous
Why are you still here?

Listen. Very faintly you will hear an irregularity in the fan. Listen for it. A kind of scratching, uneven rattle like a pulse.

That's the static it makes as it tries to cross over. It's not the fan.

Find a mirror. I can help you
>> Anonymous
she is dying you know, you could have helped her. she will not begrudge you though.you will know why soon enough
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>50999087
Haha, someone did just knock on my door right after I finished reading that.
Gave me the fright of my life but it was just my brother.
>> Anonymous
OP/creepykeeper here here. I'ma hit the hay, but it's been fun. Newfags abound, but that really makes these threads all the more called for.

I'll claim that my angle is "spreading the love" to new users (rather than, say, using creepy to punish them mercilessly for coming here).
>> Anonymous
I have insomnia, now I'm going to be sitting on my couch shitting myself everytime I hear a creak.

fuck you anon, fuck you.
>> Anonymous
>>51001161
to much acid men...too much...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
No.50999470
So what happens whene you bring all the objects togeather? I need to know.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
INCREASE LEVELS
>> Anonymous
I've been up all night long, /b/. About halfway through, I popped a couple of PM pills and have been sipping from a bottle of Old Crow for the past hour.

It was a mistake.

I can see the sun shining outside, but the light doesn't come in through the window any longer. I can feel it on the hairs of my neck.

I'm fading fast. I can barely keep my eyes open. I can only see it when they close.

For the love of God somebody
>> Anonymous
This isn't creepypasta this is something that really happened to me but I figured would be interesting in this thread.

Back in like 1994 or 95 I was stationed in Germany (I was in the U.S. Army). A request from the marines came to our Corp headquarters requesting someone to come down the Africa to help with computer and electronics repair. Zaire was having a rebellion and the marines were there incase the US embassy in Zaire (now the republic of Congo after the rebellion) was taken over or some other shit. The request was passed around between a few units because their IT people were either sick or some other bullshit excuse. Well when my section OIC got the request she told me she would get me out of it when my command came to see. Well when my commander got there I told him I would be HAPPY to go (which made my OIC alittle upset as I was the only Computer guy in the unit at the time). Well 3 days later I was on a plane to Africa with a stop off in Spain and then some other buttfuck no where landing strip. Once I finally got to Congo I was met by the Marines there and I worked with them for 6 or 7 weeks fixing computer hardware or trying to do maintenance on satellite phones (which I had no clue on how to fix). Well the meat and potatoes of this story is this. One night while I was working REALLY late replacing a bunch of RJ-45 cable that had been cut by some asshole dragging a huge metal something over it I went out to our wooden shiters they had out back.
(continued)
>> Anonymous
After taking a piss I went out to the back of our little "fenced in area" if you could call 3 thinks of razor wire stack up on each other a fence. to look out into the jungle or whatever was surrounding the airfield we were stationed at. Being a Sergeant at the time I was also interested I checking out how the Marines down there were doing security and I needed some air. When I got to the southern (I think southern) guard post (there was only like 6 guard posts it was a real small area of like 50 people at night) I sat and bullshitted with them for awhile. They told me they had been there like a hour already and were laughing about them wanting to shoot the people out there in the jungle because the were freaking them out. They had NVG (night Vision Goggles) and when I looked through them I could see pretty far into the over growth with them. And damnit there was some people moving around out there. They were maybe 150 meters out and since there were quite a few trees you couldn't see them very well and could only hear them when the breeze blow towards us or stopped. We made some stupid jokes for awhile and I ended going back to work. About an hour or so later I took a break and went to go outside again and when I got to the guard post it was a new set of guys (they were doing 2 hour shifts) I told them about the guys walking around out there and they said they already knew. Well I used the NVG (which I liked using because I had a set in Bosnia when I was there) and wanted to see the "jungle guys" some more. They were still out there but alittle closer because it seemed I could see them better. What I thought were just skinny kids when I first saw them I could see that they were something completely different. I swear to god these things were only maybe 4 feet tall with overly sized heads.
(continued)
>> Anonymous
The NVG we use, use the light in the surroundings and really magnify them so you can see in almost pitch black. The few times I could see there "faces" The only thing I could see where two HUGE looking dark spots for eyes maybe 3 times the size of a normal persons eyes. I passed the NVGs to the two marines and told them to really look at them and tell me what they saw. They both agreed that they did not look human and called the SOG to their post (Sergeant of the guard) The SOG took a look and was also pretty confused. He called on the QRF (quick reactionary force basically the extra guys on guy incase something happens) guys who were on duty and had them come down to that guard post and keep a double shift there. I went back into the building but didn't get anything done the rest of the night. We never found out who or what they were and the following nights we never saw anything else. All I know is that those things were out there doing something and they were not human. It wasn't until years later when I was watching the discovery channel on aliens that I saw a picture someone drew of some alien abduction thing that looked exactly like I saw. I refuse to watch anything on aliens anymore as it gives me nightmares.
>> Anonymous
>>51017405

There's no such thing as RJ-45 cable. I'm a Comm Marine in Iraq, RJ-45 is the tip that plugs into your computer, the actual cable is CAT-5 (Catagory 5) Internet Cable.
>> Anonymous
>>51017793
Yeah you are right. My bad.

Cat-5 I always just called it rj-45 being that the ends are what I am usually using.
>> Anonymous
>>51017793
I was with working with the 22 MEU then the 26 MEU down there in congo at the time BTW if you care.
>> Anonymous
hai gaiz,
what's the original sauce on the creepy-pasta shit about the objects, The Holder of the End,... I would very much like to read it in its
entirety cuz of complete awesomeness. halp a /b/rother out

sincerely,
yet another fag browsing /b/
>> Anonymous
>>51019231
All the pieces haven't been found or identified. There is no place with all the items.
>> Anonymous
>>51018546
I'm lolling, but I think it's a nervous lol like "haha oh wow that was funny, I am totally not scared by anything else here- WHAT WAS THAT NOISE!?"
>> Anonymous
>>50998579

House Of Leaves = Win
>> Anonymous
>>51020819
a lot scarier at 3:30am