File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Who's up for some CREEPYTHREAD!?!?

/r/ original content, plox.
>> Anonymous
one day I....
>> Anonymous
NO u
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
We had an almost decent one last night.
Can it be accomplished again?
>> Anonymous
>>63437658

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FLYING FUCK!?
>> Anonymous
>>63437725
You've got to space things out. Lrn2takeADDpills
>> Anonymous
>>63437361
whats creepy about this? its dirty and wierd, but not really creepy.
>> Anonymous
rusty doors are pretty creepy.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63437771
>> Anonymous
Plague doctors are waiting at your door.
>> Anonymous
>>63437771
cloverfield monster. also, cocks.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63437981
ITS RAININ SIDEWAYS
>> Anonymous
A couple got married in 1924. They were both religious, so they waited until they were married before they consummated their love. They then proceeded to have sex in the missionary position for the purposes of procreation.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Early one evening, just as the sun began to rise from behind the purple mountains, a strange sound was heard in the distance. Could this be the return of the one legged witch which had terrified the castle many years ago? The butler decided to investigate and he farted.
>> Anonymous
>>63438098

Fuck. I won't be able to sleep at night now.
>> Anonymous
>>63437658

moar now.
>> Anonymous
>>63438114
bricks = shat
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
heard u like me
>> Anonymous
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Flame Broiled". 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 heavy breathing echoing through the halls. Your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.

Should the breathing stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to snack." 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 breathing 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 king in the corner, his mouth frozen into a insane grin, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. "What happens when they flame broil it fresh when you order instead of leaving it under a heat lamp?"

The king will then stare into your eyes and say nothing. 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 eat the object in the king's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of high cholesterol and unrelenting hypertension.

Your death will be in that room, by that BK Breakfast Sandwich.

The BK Breakfast Sandwich is 1 of a 6-part value menu. They must never come together. Never.

Available for a limited time at participating Burger Kings.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
ok so there was one last night it was awesome, so i screen shot that bitch cause im too lazy to copy it, lolz...have fun
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
HHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Heads or tails?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63438442

screamer from last night
>> Anonymous
call it friend-o
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
that one was from last night in '07?
>> Anonymous
dumb nigras need to try harder
>> Anonymous
>>63438379
WHAT THE FUCK!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
u fucks cant scare me i dont get scared u fucks
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63439036
LOL i guess thats why they call this RANDOM!11!! XDD
>> Anonymous
>>63438536
what are we calling for?
>> Anonymous
>>63439324
Fuck, that one gets me every time.
>> Anonymous
>>63438695

What was the name of this film, again? Somebody help me out here.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63439690
Begotten, you stupid fuck.
>> Anonymous
>>63439324
im in your condemed basement, stroking my weener
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63439770
I don't see it. Where's the mindfuck?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63437941
No, I'm right here. Hello.
>> Anonymous
You bastards! Continue....
>> Anonymous
>>63439770
>>63439906
this isnt the "share your uncreative artfag photography" thread.
>> Anonymous
moar creepypasta plox
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63439930

is no mindfuck, just original content i took of an abandoned house
>> Anonymous
>>63439800

Fuck off, you slimeyVAGINA. I just forgot the name. Thanks for telling me, though. Asshole.
>> Anonymous
>>63437771

looks like one of the Black Plague masks....
>> Anonymous
>>63440073
Agreed.
At least shoop a fucking monster face in there or something.
>> Anonymous
>>63439770
HOLY FUCKING SHIT A CLOCK
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63440128
see
>>63437917
>> Anonymous
>>63439690
Begotten.
It's interesting for a while, but I got bored and stopped watching eventually.
>> Anonymous
>>63440107
It's only posted in every other thread.
Lurk moar, etc. Enjoy your movie.
>> Anonymous
>>63440246
this isnt /p/
>> Anonymous
>>63440082
Moar? There isn't any to start with.
>> Anonymous
>>63438263
DO NOT WANT!

I kept looking for Photoshoping...but....
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63439995
>> Anonymous
>>63440087
Abandoned house doesn't equal creepy. Unless there's a ghost showing his cock in one of those pics, don't bother posting moar. God, at least shoop Cookie Monster in there or something.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
He's watching you.
>> Anonymous
lern2/x/
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Know what this thread is missing?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63439995
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
giada creeps me out
>> Anonymous
>>63439036

PROODLEFUCKER

>>63438442

"creepy" isnt a suspicious filename at all.
>> Anonymous
>>63440927
Not to mention it''s a gif.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Easter Woman came today and took away my wife.
Took her through an open doorway...
to the afterlife.
>> Anonymous
>>63440908
but man, her mouth is so huge, I bet she could suck off a 2 liter.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
http://www.ghostvideos.ws/ghost-of-a-young-girl-cries-in-the-corner.html

i exuded masonry at full force
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Gamma
>> 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 labeled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm’s well (which had apparently 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 point at the oven for another 45 minutes until the batteries apparently 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 body of the woman on the tape did not in any way resemble the body of the woman found in the oven.
>> Anonymous
>>63437658

Looks like Black Spy...Where's White spy?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63440550

only in /b/
>> Anonymous
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.

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 skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
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.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
just look at it with all the lights off
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63441245
I still don't see it.
>> Anonymous
>>63441329

so did I, /b/rudda. holy shit.
>> Anonymous
>>63441575
I love you.
>> Anonymous
>>63437658
HOLY SHIT IT SPY VS SPY
>> Anonymous
>>63441599
and Eight times for losing the game.
>> Anonymous
>>63441599
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.

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.

Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
>> Anonymous
>>63437658
HOLY SHIT IT SPY VS SPY
>> Anonymous
>>63441575
Well played, good sir.
>> Anonymous
>>63441952
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 funjklm,.-

WITNESS
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63441748
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A person was locked here by accident and scratched the the inside of the door, not to escape, obviously, but out of panic. Desperation. Death came after some days. Its a cellar, none could hear the screams.
>> Anonymous
>>63441790
>>63442031


/b/ annon attacks
other /b/ annon returns fire
>> Anonymous
http://video.xtube.com/watch.php?v_user_id=x10x10&cv=0&idx=8&v=KqyGejl411_&cl=OsTfhd
VgBr_&from=&ver=2

I challenge you to watch the entire length of this bloody anal prolapse video.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63442256

Fuck dude, the shredder is behind you!
>> Anonymous
>>63442134
it's called rust, faggot
>> Anonymous
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
http://img.4chan.org/b/thumb/1208574242663s.jpg
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
Are you the same guy that always posts this?
Cos if you are i applaud
>> Anonymous
dude Run
>> Anonymous
>>63441952
HOLY FUCKING SHIT ANON RUN ITS GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU HOLY SHIT OMFG FUCK MAN GO FUCKING HIDE THAT SHIT IS GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU HOLY FUCKING SHIT FUCK NIGGER CUNT DICK LICK IM GAY FUCKING HOLY SHIT WAIT, WHAT? DISREGARD THAT I SUCK COCKS ITS GOING TO GET YOU IF YOU DONT HURRY UP AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE HOLY SHIT RUN!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>63442122
Thanks. Is it just me, or does it seem to have eye colors to match Suiseiseki's?
>> Anonymous
>>63442380
gg anon, but the "ocarina" she's playing looks wierd...
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
this is hilarious!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Wow /b/, you have perfect timing. In my photo 2 class we have to shoot creepy/horror kind of things. This is some good inspiration. I'll post some that I have done.
>> Anonymous
>>63442122

LEATHERFACE
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63442122
That's a pipe if you look at the dark one. Light made it blurry.
THE REAL MINDFUCK IS THOSE FUCKING GLOWING EYES.
>> Anonymous
>>63442821

is that a shoop?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63442965
No, that is a done with Nikon Black and white camera. I left the shutter open 30 seconds.
>> Anonymous
>>63442134
you ever hear of oxidation?
>> Anonymous
>>63442966
There was too much AIDS in there. It was for her own good!
>> Anonymous
>>63443042

looks pretty good
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63442821
Not that scary. The girl should have been hidden or something.
>> Anonymous
>>63443196
HOLY FUCK IT'S CANDLEJA
>> Anonymous
>>63438442

ACK! ACK! FUCK YOU!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443255
Is that that little Indian girl who got her braid caught in a lawnmower and it ripped her face off? I lol'd hard.
>> Anonymous
>>63443196
Holy fuck, THAT is creepy.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443346
Why does she have a walrus mustache?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
the fuck is that shit
>> Anonymous
>>63442122
Holy fuck. Crocodile.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443754
A TARP!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63440908

creepy? nah
>> Anonymous
>>63443752
Lol @ emo camwhore
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
WTF IS THIS SHIT?!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
ok wtf is that
>> Anonymous
>>63443994

a shoop from like 10 years ago
>> Anonymous
>>63439846
If it wasn't dead, sir, then YOU have killed this thread.

Kudos.
>> Anonymous
>>63443921
>>63443921
>>63443994
>>63443994
Cold Fear for PS2 viral ad.
>> Anonymous
>>63439846
bahahahaha
10/10
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADAM Cason.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63443530

Yeah serious, sauce on that pic
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
.gif ......yeah cause im retarded.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63444183
Seriously fucking scared me.
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
Brain parasite? Sauce please.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63438098

HOLY SHIT, THIS THREAD IS SHIT EXCEPT FOR THIS

GODDAMNIT /b/ NOW I CAN'T SLEEP
>> Anonymous
>>63442134


That just looks like rust.
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
Yes, viral marketing is quite creepy.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
for sum reason i think this is the scariest thing i've ever found on /b/ ... animooted.
>> Anonymous
>>63444225
Saw the nigra; brix were shat
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
Fucking asshole. Got to the part where lighting the match too late...
>> Anonymous
>>63444098
confirmed
>> Anonymous
>>63443298
I would hit that. Right there.
>>63443346
Ok, never mind. Arousal has been quashed.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442

this just scared the crap out of me.
i screamed and jumped like 10 feet.
haha well done
>> Anonymous
>>63444597
Maybe because it's A FUCKING FURRY.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63440908
She scares my cock stiff and makes it want to hide inside her.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
I saw .gif so I had my hands covering my face waiting for something to pop out. It still got me...
>> Anonymous
>>63444183
Jesus fuck, resize those shits.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63444597
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

That IS creepy. And I'm not just saying that in the obnoxious, /b/tard-esque way of "'CUZ IT'S A FURRY" but shit, that honestly gave me the willies...

I mean, shit, it's just some fursuiter, but damned if I wasn't freaked out.
>> Anonymous
>>63444499

Anything made of iron will get rusty after years, disregarding what happend in that place.
>> Anonymous
>>63444986

Get bigger monitor fag
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
omg the kids in painting scare me
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A few weeks back, me and a couple friends were going through the woods. We knew there wasn't a town around for miles, then we found this place. We explored around for a while, and the place was totally deserted
>> Anonymous
>>63445192


Oh yeah, let me rip off my laptop screen and put a bigger one on there.

Fucking idiot.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63445195
NIGGER, I AIN'T OPENING THAT GIF
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
When we were looking around though, we saw these all over the place
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
On april 30, 2008, I will rape the girl in the picture. Her name is Sarah Owens. She has 2 brothers. Her parents are divorced. She is currently in 6th grade. On april 30th, I will wait until 3:30pm, at which she leaves her final class. at this point, she will begin to walk home. I will pull up in my van, and grab her and throw her in the back. I will drive off for about 3 miles, when I reach a dirt road with not much traffic. at this point, I will open the back of my van and tie her hands behind her back. Then I will proceed to molest her. First, I will rub my cock on her cheek. This will cause her to scream. I will then hold my hand on her mouth. at this point, I will then remove her pants and proceed to rape her. When I'm about to blow my load, I'll pull my dick out and cum in her mouth. She'll probably be passed out by now. I will return to my house, and lock her up in my basement. She will be my sex slave for the rest of her life.

Nobody will suspect me, since I have an outstanding public record. I served 11 years in the military, and then became the owner of a popular food establishment in my city. I have donated thousands of dollars to charity. There is NO way I can get caught.

I reveal this to anon for the same reason a hunter mounts the head of a deer to the wall, and also to scare the shit out of newfags when they come to the realization that there is NOTHING they can do to prevent this. Call the FBI, cops, whatever, I don't care. They'll never suspect me, for the reasons I listed above.

also, you got a boner when I described how I would assault her. and you lost the game. this is NOT copypasta.
>> Anonymous
>>63445326
>>63445195

Traps
>> Anonymous
>>63438445
what was the sauce on this?
>> Anonymous
Someone go to pripyat and take pictures of the insides of various buildings. I'm sure you'd come up with some interesting shit.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Its all bulshit and all, but I still love this painting
>> Anonymous
>>63445336
I have a 19'' LCD screen with 1920x1200 resolution on my laptop. L2notbebroke, nigga.
>> Anonymous
ITT: newfags posting .gif files thinking no one will notice
>> Anonymous
>>63445478
dayum hawt for a sixth grader
>> Anonymous
>>63445516
Dude, that's the motherfucking Exorcist movie.
Are you retarded?
>> Anonymous
>>63445608

We can't all suck daddys cock for money.
>> Anonymous
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCFhRFSek_4

Creepy video
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
get the hell out with the bimbos this is scary thread
>> Anonymous
>>63445828
EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE GIFFAG.
>> Anonymous
>>63445828
THE FUCK IS WITH ALL THESE .GIFS?
I'm not opening that, nigger. I just might shit out another pussy.
>> Anonymous
>>63443793
I'm not sure why, but that one creeped me out the most.
>> Anonymous
>>63443963
Keep away from Pumpkinhead,
Unless you're tired of living,
His enemies are mostly dead,
He's mean and unforgiving,
Bolted doors and windows barred,
Guard dogs prowling in the yard,
Won't protect you in your bed,
Nothing will, from Pumpkinhead.
>> Anonymous
Well hay guise.

Is this one of them you laff you lose threds?
>> Anonymous
Actually, I really want to open these .gifs and see the pictures. I just don't want to HHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGHGHGGGH.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63446125
You raff, you ruse.
And yes it is.
>> Anonymous
Keep away from Pumpkinhead,
Unless you're tired of living,
His enemies are mostly dead,
He's mean and unforgiving,
Bolted doors and windows barred,
Guard dogs prowling in the yard,
Won't protect you in your bed,
Nothing will, from Pumpkinhead.
>> Anonymous
>>63445478
i'll be your sex slave
>> Anonymous
>>63446230
Is that aVAGINA?
>> Anonymous
>>63445478

if it were true, let me warn you; many have done the same as you. look at Ted Bundy. no one ever suspected him. but the evidence linked up. no one is above the law.
>> Anonymous
>>63445468

keep posting pix..
>> Anonymous
>>63445805
Not that creepy but kind of funny
>> Anonymous
i just dint see what crreepy 'bout 90% of these threads...
>> Anonymous
>>63446125

more like "I laff you loose"
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63446378
I think it's shoop da whoop
>> Anonymous
Somewhere in NYC there is an old homeless man missing both his legs from the knees down, whose spot along the streets is the corner of Lexington and East 21st, near Granmercy Park. Approach him after nightfall, give him some change (NO pennies, NO dimes) and ask him, "What did you see on the other side?" He will then tell you all about his travels to other realms and times, where he lost his legs, how he lost his money. It is up to you whether to believe him or not, but as you listen you'll find yourself being drawn in with every story. You must stay alert, or the old man will notice your inattentiveness, and with a scowl he will stop imparting his wisdom; he will chase you as fast as he can, tottering on his stubs. The other reason why you must stay alert is to check the time. Before midnight you must interrupt him (do NOT let him finish whatever story he's telling you at the moment) and say "I've heard enough, old man. Good day and good luck", then walk away. Make at least two left-hand turns around the block before going about your business. You must do this, because anyone who has stayed to listen past midnight is never seen again, at least not in this particular plane of existence.
>> Anonymous
>>63446792
wtf
>> Anonymous
>>63446584
wat.
>> Anonymous
Someone with photoshop, some small amount of skill, and a little time needs to shoop up a little original content.

If everyone clamoring for MOAR got to work with me we could have epic creepypasta. I'll be back later on, in a new thread with better shit. See you guys there.
>> Anonymous
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key 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. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she 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 were red."
>> Anonymous
>>63446792
>>63446792

obvious copypasta is obvious
>> Anonymous
>>63446792

you know. some of the shit we have as creepy pasta, I wouldnt be surprised if a few people had some work published in a magazine somewhere.
>> Anonymous
>>63445338

wat the... FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKCKCKCKCKKCCCCC!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!1111
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
animooted
>> Anonymous
It was a pocket radio that buzzed, hissed and chattered where it sat alone on the stool of the bar, I was hesitant to pick it up, I don’t know why, the little brown thing just filled me with an uneasy feeling, an itching under my skin that no amount of clawing or rubbing would take away. I grabbed it eventually conquering the churning of my gut, its just the hunger I reminded myself, you’ve been on the road a long time. I could barely remember where I was or how far I had to go, the night seemed endless, it was all pitch and lacking in stars, I’d driven what, four hours and slept at least three, it should be morning now, it should be light, but it wasn’t and the wind that howled and slapped against the windows of empty diner worried me more than the itching of the radio and the horrible sense of foreboding this abandoned place was starting to push upon me.
As I grasped the radio I flipped it off, holding it out a second as my ears adjusted to the near silence of the place, where was the wind? Just seconds ago it had been fighting with the awful chattering and hissing for who would claim the noise most likely to send me running blindly, why was I so scared? And why was this diner deserted, it was open, surely then someone must be working here, someone pulling the night shift, someone left the radio out as they went to the back, and that awful wind rushing out of the starless night had knocked it out of tune, surely that was the answer.
>> Anonymous
If you are watching television, and the signal cuts out to static, turn the TV off immediately. If you watch the static on TV for long enough, the static will suddenly pause. All sound in the room will cease; even the white noise of the TV itself will disappear. If this happens you must not look away from the screen. You will probably not notice at the time, before you lose your gaze on the TV, your body will freeze as well. Time around and with you have paused completely. Specks of the black and white dots slowly come to life, creeping slowly in seemingly random directions. Not static as you know it, but organizing themselves into a moving picture again in front of you. As the static returns to normal, and the white noise of the TV comes back, you will regain control of your body. You must never watch that television again. It will only play static, even when unplugged. If you watch the static any longer, these same events will reoccur, but with disastrous results. What exactly happens is unknown, as it is obvious that anyone that has been unfortunate enough to experience this has disappeared. It is rumoured that if one continues to watch the static again, or during their experience, looks away, the white and black specs will slowly start to move again, but you will not. Your eyes will then be permanently fixated on the screen as you watch the picture come back to life, and what seems to be your station's signal return. You learn soon this is not the case, as all sound is still absent, and the picture on the TV shows a familiar surrounding: the room in which you sit. The only thing you see next is movement on the TV, as you see yourself from behind, and subsequently, the cause of your disappearance.
>> Anonymous
>>63447414
I made to the door, fingers reaching slowly to it, testing it, my fears were proved to be right, it was locked, but how could it be locked, I had entered that way, I was sure of it, sure as my car keys were in my pocket. I fumbled into my pockets, first the right and the left then I thrust both hands into the back, nothing, but how could there be nothing, two receipts, my wallet and my keys that was what was in my damn pockets when I woke up in the car, how long ago was that? My head hurt, span, when I blinked it wasn’t black but vibrant disturbing whirling patterns, get a grip, get a grip your fine, must have dropped my keys I must have dropped my keys, I strained to look out through the dirty plastic of the door, it was a cheap grubby diner, they couldn’t afford the glass, probably a good thing with all that wind, that wind, where had it gone? All I could hear now was a rasping sound, quiet but distinct, like a saw pulling lightly against a piece of wood, the teeth getting caught then releasing, caught then released. I squinted through the dirty plastic windows again, nothing; the night was a brick wall of black, not a shape to be seen in it, as solid as the floor below me it seemed. That rasping, was it getting louder, was it rasping there seemed a labour to it, some kind of moist sound, I looked behind me, there was still no one here, all the lights were on, but no one home. Again that rasping, more moist now, sounding almost animal in origin, a noise caught in the throat of something, someone wheezing perhaps, it was hard to hear, it was still muffled, strangled or just too far away.
>> Anonymous
Somewhere in West Philadelphia, you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles, and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the lisence plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will think that cabs like these are rare, don't say anything about it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be somewhere between 7 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo holmes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these intructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
>> Anonymous
You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken breasts.

After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage." Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother.

Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says.

You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?"

"Hi hun, it's me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too."

"No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."
>> Anonymous
>>63447756
I stood for minutes, erect, tongue caught between my front teeth, eyes searching back and forth, scanning the floor then the bar top, floor, bar top, floor, bar top, floor and then backroom door, what was that? A flicker at the small window, a crackle of light perhaps, no more likely my eyes, please let it just be my eyes. The rasping was still there but louder now, it baffled me, I hadn’t moved yet the volume increased, but as I listened and the nausea crept into the pit of me once more, I realised the source was no closer, it felt suffocating, made the air clammy now, it was cold before, now I began to sweat. I wrinkled my brow, fighting the inner questions of confusion as I listened harder, then it happened, the sound changed just for a second, but it was enough to make solid the saliva in my throat, the sound cascaded briefly ascending to a louder version of its former self, more wet than moist, before snapping off with a quick breathy burst of a sound akin too HEP HEP. I stood frozen to the spot, chest locked with the previous breath, refusing to let it out as I stared straight ahead, searching the space around me with my ears, hoping my hearing would not betray me now. But I heard nothing, no HEP, no rasping and no slick moist sound, just silence.
>> Anonymous
>>63447643

wat the... FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKCKCKCKCKKCCCCC!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!1111>>63447643
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
what the fuck is that!!
>> Anonymous
this thread is so fucking weird fuuuuuuuck!!!!!!!!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>63447881
I dared to move after yet another minute had passed, sighing heavily, my head no longer hurt, my stomach had surrendered, no longer a pit, I felt full and warm, though even this worried me lightly, felt like a false complacency, one that I shouldn’t be feeling, was I safe here, I didn’t know this place, these roads, this country, I was a stranger here, and this place was the strangest of strangers to me. I jumped, startled the wind again, it slammed against the window, as heavy as some forest beast trying to smash the plastic in, my eyes wild were locked on the far window of the diner, refusing to move as the wind once again made more horrendous noise, slamming and shaking the plastic, I gulped again, looked down at the brown radio, then up, up into the shadows behind the bar top. Those shadows there seemed to squirm for a second and a voice just to my left spoke “Been stood there a while m’lad, get ye’self moving I would.” It was a warm voice matching the breath that spread across my shoulder, that pulled my eyes to where someone should have been but there was no one. I began to breathe deeply as my exposed arms rose in goose pimples and the hair on my neck stood at attention, accentuating the fear that oozed into my brain, slowly, like the slime of terror pouring over folds of reason, sinking into them, infecting me with a slow realisation that things were not right here.
>> Anonymous
I am Thomas's reflection. Every morning, he rises from sleep and walks into the bathroom. ...and he makes faces. I am so tired of the faces. He makes them for at least half an hour. Mocking, ridiculous faces. I have no choice but to mimic his every action, although inside I am seething with anger. He does this every day... well, USED to. One morning he awoke as usual, and entered the bathroom. On this particular morning, against his will, he picked up a pair of scissors. On this particular morning, against his will, he gripped those scissors tightly in his fist. ...on this particular morning, entirely against his will, he plunged those scissors directly into his right eye. Thomas screamed, and screamed. I screamed and screamed too - with one difference. I can't mimic his pain.

Just

his

face.
>> Anonymous
>>63448163
Fear was forcing my legs to move towards the back room, I felt very little in control of what my body was doing now, I could feel the floor under me, but I could not gauge myself moving over it. Disorientated I was pulled to where I had before perceived a light or a trick of my eye, the back room, hope was fleeing me now, I wasn’t walking there I was being pulled, I so wanted to turn, I wanted to run, but even now I remembered the door would offer no solace, only a barrier for my possible freedom.

I wanted to black out, wanted to escape the suffocating feeling, the awful knowledge that as I moved towards the matte black door, the diner around me seemed to pull in, I was sure if I looked behind myself I would see the walls squeezing me towards the door, as though even the building itself was forcing me in this direction and not just the fear that pushed me, gripped me, much like I held a death grip on the radio in my palm.
I reached the door, stopped in front of it, and it seemed to melt away, slide out of view, my peripheral vision was quashed, I could no longer see to my left or right anymore, I could just see the door, the door which was becoming a black tunnel, pitch and starless as I had seen the night just minutes earlier, had it been minutes, the dragging of my limbs towards this place had felt a lot longer now. I became acutely aware then of a noise the radio emitted, high pitched, like a monotone squeal, it forced my eyes to push somewhat closed, the door becoming blurred, I wanted to drop the little brown box but could not, my hands were not mine to command, just as my legs obeyed another master so too did all my limbs. Only my eyes seemed to remain mine alone, however the shrieking forced them closed as I could not shield my ears, there was a slight pain building in the centre of my skull from it, beginning to resonate outwards to my face, an ache behind my eyes that forced them shut now.
>> Anonymous
Have you ever gotten a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye? A simple movement caught in your peripheral vision. Most will simply dismiss this as a shadow brought about by a flickering candle, or perhaps a pet jumping down from a piece of furniture. Ninety-nine out of a hundred times, these people are right.

But then there's that one elusive sight. It can easily be explained by the above conditions, but something feels wrong about it. A chill down your spine, a slight pain in your side. Maybe even a complete blanking of your mind, only to recede moments later.

Should any of these symptoms be felt, there may be cause for worry. Our peripheral vision is designed to catch motion, even in the dark. This was used to defend against predators in our early days, and as with many aspects of our human nature, it has remained, but weakened.

This view out of the corner of our eyes still alerts us to danger, and although predators have dropped on the list of dangers we may face today, they still exist. Should you ever feel that queer chill in your back, try not to focus on that shadow you saw in the corner of your eye. It might be better not to see.
>> Anonymous
>>63448337
As my eyes shut then, I felt the ground below me tumble away, yet upright I stayed, my remaining senses told me that there were things whizzing past me at great speed, large things cutting the air with huge whooshes, displacing the air around them and forcing it against me, clammy and sticky, it felt like treacle sliding over my arms and face. I was sure now that I did not want my eyes open, sure now that I did not want to perceive what was happening around me, even now through my eyelids I could see a bombardment of colours and patterns that for some reason caused the terror still rooting in me to push deeper, into the pit of my stomach, the goose pimples about my body and every single hair that garrisoned a pore, it made them stand on end.
Despite all that was going on, I still felt the awful presence draw near me, the oily flesh press against me, the freezing cold breath wash over my face “Your not supposed to be here” It said in a thousand variations of my very own voice, every single word colliding with an altered version of itself, the echoing driving the pain of confusion deep into my mind. I felt a cold, sweaty hand clamp around my wrist and begin to dig its fingers into the skin, pressing into, bypassing the flesh touching against nerves and veins, pressing them onto the bone, the intense pain and overwhelming unfamiliarity of it forcing my mouth open in a silent scream. My eyes snapping open to reveal the staring mad vision of a malformed copy of me, sunken eyes of crimson with a lopsided jaw, protruding upward teeth elongated, almost touching at my own cheek, nose split in two at its middle. As my mind broke, gave up its ghost all I heard were a million different cackles resonating in my skull.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63442033
Im so proud and priveledged that you spent your last minutes of life with us, on /b/
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
I live in the UK. A colleague at work heard this from her boyfriend. He works with someone who said that his sister's friend got the last tube (subway train) home a couple of weeks ago. When she got on there were 5 rows of seats empty but the last row had three people sitting in them. As she was a little afraid, she went and sat opposite these people. She settled down and looked up to see the woman sitting opposite her really staring at her. So she got out her book and started to read but every time she looked up the woman was still staring. The train pulled into the next station and a man got on. He looked up and down the carriage, took a look at her and the people opposite her and came and sat next to her. As the train left the station the man leaned back and said quietly in her ear "If you know what's good for you, you'll get off at the next station with me". She was scared but thought the best idea would be to get off at the next station as he asked as there might be people around. The next stop comes up and she leaves the train with this man. The man says "Thank God, I didn't mean to scare you but I had to get you off that train. I'm a doctor and the woman sitting opposite you was dead and the two men either side were propping her up". According to the guy who told this story, the girl and the doctor called the police who stopped the train at the next station.
>> Anonymous
There is a nigger outside your door right now. If you go to the keyhole, you'll see him. Eating watermelon with his vacant stare. Sitting. Always sitting. Because niggers are lazy.
>> Anonymous
>>63448768
that looks like frylock from ATHF
>> Anonymous
>>63448955

fffffffffffuuuuuuuuck
>> Anonymous
>>63448695
Is that all?

Geez, that's a shitty ending.
>> Anonymous
im just fucked up
>> 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
>>63449339
Sorry i was going for a lovecraft inspired ending and i did write the damn thing at 4am in the morning
>> Anonymous
Let's get a few classics in here...

In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed.

She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She went to the police, who raided the address on the envelope, where they found heaps of human flesh for sale.

And what was in the envelope? "This is the last one I am sending you today."
>> Anonymous
A couple with children were trying out a new babysitter. About an hour after they left for a night on the town, they realized they had forgotten to give her their cell phone number, so one of them called her.

After she wrote down the number, the babysitter asked if she could watch satellite TV in their bedroom. She had just put the children to bed and wanted to watch a particular show. (The parents didn't want their children watching too much garbage, so the living room TV did not have satellite channels.)

Well of course she could watch TV in their room, they replied. The babysitter had one other request: could she put a sheet or blanket over the clown statue that was in the bedroom? It kind of made her nervous.

Take the children and go to the neighbors, said whichever parent was talking to her. We'll call the police. We don't have a clown statue.

The police caught the clown as he was running through the neighborhood.
>> Anonymous
If you ever find yourself in LA's Old China town, head into the square, past the statue of sun Yat-sen, past the hip-ultramod toy store called "Munky King" and look for an import store next to what used to be a wishing fountain. Go into this store ad head all the way straight back, you'll see a selection of weapons, Look for a weapon called a Jiujiebian, a sort of multi-sectioned whip. it MUST have exactly nine segments, no more, no less. This will be called the "chain of night" as of now, there are 48 notches in it's handle. It will cost you 29.95. Then after that, go outside and wait till dark, as the moon rises, take a quarter from your pocket and cast it at the wishing well. as it lands focus on that spot exactly and slowly chant under your breath: "by the circles of lao-tzu, the void inside of matter, I call forth the spirit that lingers here!" this phrase is best said in the origional mandarin, but the spirit will understand a sincere supplicant regardless of language. A girl will step out of the bottom of the fountain, about nine years of age. She will ask you: "Where has my mother gone?" you must respond with: "She has long since gone from earth, but look to the sky, and see her there!"

this spirit is not that of a little girl, but of a bog-hag, cursed to obey this one command regardless of who says it. At this moment, you must attempt to strike the girl with your Newly Acquired Jiujiebian. SHE will then snarl and attempt to fight back. Should you win, all the money ever thrown into the fountain will await you. If you fail, all that the folks in chinatown know is that a bloody Jiujiebian lies at the door of the import store with a notch in it's handle. To date, there are 48 notches in the handle.
>> Anonymous
>>63449533


It's a good story, it just needs a bit more closure before the ending.
>> Anonymous
A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, un-moving.
At this point he was confused and a little freaked out. He went to the front desk and asked the lady about the room. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and the lady said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."
>> Anonymous
win
>> Anonymous
Many classic horror icons share common characteristics. Pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, elongated faces, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire horror and revulsion in many, and with good reason. The characteristics shared by these faces are imprinted in the human mind. Many things frighten humans instinctively. The fear is natural, and does not need to be reinforced in order to terrify. The fears are species-wide, stemming from dark times in the past when lightning could mean the burning of your tree home, thunder could be the approaching gallops of a stampede, predators could hide in darkness, and heights could make poor footing lethal. The question you have to ask yourself is this: What happened, deep in the hidden eras before history began, that could effect the entire human race so evenly as to give the entire species a deep, instinctual, and lasting fear of pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces?
>> Anonymous
>>63449873
I'll sort it sometime when im not trying to clean the fatigue from my eyeballs, i only wrote it for the creepypasta thread didn't wanna make it to TL;DR
>> Anonymous
They say that somewhere in western America, some say in Utah, others say on the California coast, there's a certain small motel on the side of the road.

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

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

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

I wouldn't advise looking at a mirror for at least a month after doing so, though.
>> Anonymous
Ha ha! Fuck you creepy thread! Not tonight. I'm just in here long enough to post and tell you to got fuck yourself before I go to be...

... the hell? Hold on a sec, I just heard something behind me, it...

Ugh, why did I ever hang that mirror over my bed, staring right at my back as I type.

Fuck, there it is again. It's like every time I turn back to the screen I can feel this pressure building up behind me, but it's cold.

Oh my fucking god and now the mirror just fell onto my bed. Nice, And there's a big fucking crack in the paint on the wall, like a spiderweb.

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

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

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

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

The strange man had only taken one of the apples, and didn't even touch the glass of milk. No houses were broken into, and no one was killed. For decades, the town continued to place out an apple or two every night, even long after a single apple stopped dissapearing.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
original content. some niggers in africa.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Holy Shit /b/ i finally found this picture again
This was taken from a house that i was living in a few years a ago. the chick in it is my buddy "Cathy".

Those little spots that you are see are called orbs
those are the things thing that 9 times out of 10 represent spirit activity

the house that this picture was taken in was in shepherdstown wv, which served as a hospital town after the Antietam battle during the civil war.

the dead love lively areas like this. durring the night of this party there were atleast 30 -40 people there
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63450787
It called dust faggot.
>> Anonymous
bump
>> Anonymous
There is a moment each leap year, at exactly three minutes past three on the morning of February twenty-ninth. If you possess the courage, await that moment in darkened room, with no other present. At that moment, the darkness will deepen. If you were to hold you hand directly before your face, you would not see a thing. But you must not do so. No, for that would be to waste the moment. Instead you must reach out, into that impenetrable darkness.

And it will reach out to you.

An unseen hand will grasp yours. You must not flinch away, nor tighten your grasp. To do so will only slough away more of the decrepit flesh that covers it, and anger its unseen owner. Remain perfectly still, as the withered fingers move over your palm, tracing unknown patterns. Do not move an inch as it crawls slowly up your arm. And most of all, do not even breathe as it caresses your face, touching what cannot be seen.

Should you remain still through this, the hand will be withdrawn and a voice will speak, so close you can feel its breath on your face, smell the scent of decay it carries. It will ask you for one simple piece of information: your name. Answer truthfully. Answer truthfully, and the presence will retreat, leaving only a whisper in the air as the darkness lifts. "It is done."

From that day on, untold good fortune will be yours, and mysterious power. You will lack nothing, and have everything. But in a year, perhaps two, you will feel your skin begin to decay, and smell the sweet smell of death upon your breath...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, 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 to get in.

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.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
GOD DAMN IT!! I LOVE CREEPY THREADS!!
>> Anonymous
>>63450912
fuck i wasnt expectin that...
>> Anonymous
>>63451346
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. You will be given a glass with a seven-sided rim, with each side twisting ever so delicately around the basin until forming a sleek and simple handle. You will also receive 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 your 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").
>> Anonymous
>>63451401

when you see .GIF in the pictures link, expect it newfag
>> Anonymous
>>63451434
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. 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 green-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.
>> Anonymous
>>63449166

Fukken Creepy!
>> Anonymous
>>63451574
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 compartment, "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."

If 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 rea 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
>>63451668
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 to be free of all premeditation, and managed to do so. You see, 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. Then next week. Then from fifty years ago. 100 in the future, 200 in the past...

Then, on his last night of life, he kidnapped three young girls from their homes at night, murdered them, and painted his finest masterpieces in 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.
>> Anonymous
>>63451729
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 makes twelve. But what of the thirteenth?
>> Anonymous
>>63451808
This thirteenth painting is 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 runes 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 horrific masterpiece, I could never say, nor would I ever dare to.

So... if you make it, maybe you can flip the canvas over and tell me sometime? You can tell me about it over a drink.

'Night, /b/.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were demons in the base. He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad "I want to be on the ships daddy."
Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY DEMONS"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were demons.
"This is Joson" the radio crackered. "You must fight the demons!"
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the demons
"I will shoot at him" said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the demons" he shouted
The radio said "No, John. You are the demons"
>> Anonymous
Now, I'm not exactly a newfag and in my time here I've seen shit. Shit most people would refer to as "utterly fucked up". But these pics, I can't look at without having the girl in the pics haunting my mind for at least 2 weeks.
Go have a look for yourself, /b/

http://poetry.rotten.com/blonde/
>> Anonymous
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMFolaY-VWY
the definition of creepy,
in b4 you shit brix
>> Anonymous
>>63452309

jesus christ thanks a lot faggot
>> Anonymous
>>63450787
dirty camera lens
>> Anonymous
bump
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Photo taken by me. This is an underground brick kiln under a ghost town in Pennsylvania. I followed it for about 100 yards before crawling out of a cave in. It went on, but I wasn't sure I wanted to go on.
>> Anonymous
>>63452503
what is it?...im not clicking it lol
>> Anonymous
>>63452309

Seriously, whenever I view these photos I'll spend 2 weeks scared in the dark, constantly looking over my shoulder and shit, even though I usually lol hard at gore.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
GOD DAMN IT I FUCKING HATE YOU
:'(
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Starbuck waited. The lights above her blinked and sparked out of the air. There were cylons in the galactica. She didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. Her warnings to Admrel Adama were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
Starbuck was a viper pilot for fourteen years. When she was young she watched the spaceships and she said to mom "I want to be on the ships mommy."
Mom said "No! You will BE KILL BY CYLONS"
There was a time when she believed her. Then as she got oldered she stopped. But now in the hangar bay of the GALACTICA she knew there were cylons.
"This is Adama" the radio crackered. "You must fight the cylons!"
So Starbuck gotted her rifle and blew up the wall.
"SHE GOING TO KILL US" said the cylons
"I will shoot at her" said the centurion and he fired the rocket missiles. Starbuck fireded at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the cylons" she shouted
The radio said "No, Starbuck. You are the cylons"
>> Anonymous
>>63452309
>>63452309
>>63452309
>>63452309
>>63452309


Creepiest post in this thread
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
The only genuinely terrifying one I know.
>> Anonymous
moar creepy pics
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63453022
>>63452309
>> Anonymous
>>63444597

HOLLLLLLLYYYYY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT
>> Anonymous
A mother and father lived with their 6-year-old son in a suburban neighborhood. One night after eating dinner their son excused himself from the table and started carrying his half finished plate of food upstairs. When his mother inquired about it he told them it was for his imaginary friend. His parents didn't give much thought to it as he was only 6 years old and an only child.

A few days later the child emerged from his room with a drawing. His parents were watching TV in the den. He shoved the paper into their faces before they could ask him what it was a picture of. The drawing had two stick figures, him and a tall man standing beside him. When his father asked who the other person was, he told them it was his imaginary friend.

Several days later the boy's father woke up to see that his cellphone had disappeared. He had put it on the nightstand the evening before going to sleep. The father looked all over the bedroom before giving up and going to work.

The next morning the boy's father woke up with his cellphone exactly where he had left it the previous night. When he turned it on he saw that the background image had been changed. It was a picture of his son asleep with a shadow looming over him.
>> Anonymous
>>63453241

Then who took the photo?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Tito climbed into Reggie's room and immediately punched her in the face, knocking her out cold.

Upon awakening Reggie found herself bound and gagged to a chair. Tito was naked, standing in front of her with a big Hawaii boner staring her in the face. "As the ancient Hawaiians used to say... it's time for a dicking!" And at that, Tito leaped forward and grabbed Reggie's undeveloped breast. He grabbed with all his might, and ripped the skin from her body. Her muffled screams fell flat, and no one came to her help.

The blood aroused Tito more than he'd ever been aroused. It reminded him of the stories his mother used to tell him of the ancient Hawaiin sacrifices in which the subjects would receive wounds to which the sacrificers would rape. He couldn't wait, Tito grabbed a hammer and smashed at Reggie's ribcage, again her screams were not heard. After breaking an opening to her insides, Tito plunged in.

He thrust in and out in complete ecstasy. The pain was unbearable for Reggie and she lost consciousness. Tito came almost immediately, but he was by no means done. He pulled out of her chest, hisPENISdripping blood and semen. Tito cleaned his dick off with Reggie's tongue.

Tito tore out a few of the ribs he had broken and shoved them up his ass to stimulate his enormous prostate. Tito then undid Reggie's restraints and began fucking her now lifeless corpse. After deploying his Hawaiin happy sauce, he decided he wanted a better look at Reggie.

Tito shoved his hand up Reggie's ass. He thrust it in as far as he could and grabbed on to the first organ he could, and then pulled out. He ripped out her entire small intestine and part of her large. Tito started to giggle and coiled up the small intestine like a rope.

He noticed the sun was coming up so he had to finish in a hurry. Tito went to his clothes and dressed himself. He pulled a large knife from his pocket and began to skin Reggie's body.
>> Anonymous
>>63453427
TIME FOR A DICKING
>> Anonymous
>>63452503
>>63452997
>>63453111
faggots
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
FUUUUUUCK..I DIDN'T SEE UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE THAT IT WAS A GIF. ;_;
>> Anonymous
>>63453427

Just then Tito remembered, he was not man, but bear. He Skinned himself to reveal his true identity, a Grizzly Bear. He sat in the center of the room for several hours until Reggie's father came in.

"Reggie it's time for schoo-HOLY FUCKING SHIT A BEAR OH MY GOD REGGI-" and Tito attacked and ate Ray. Then Tito went outside and let out a bear noise and a ray came from the sky and swept him away to his home planet of Canada.
>> Anonymous
>>63453489

NO U
>> Anonymous
>>63453521

How could you fall for that? It's posted in every single creepy thread.
>> Anonymous
>>63439324
>>63441219
brix have been shat
>> Anonymous
>>63453612
I tend to stay away from creepy threads. >_>

This was one of the few i've gone into.

AND EVERY TIME, I FALL FOR A DAMN GIF.
>> Anonymous
>>63452309
Seriously guys, I'm not going to the link.....please provide description.
>> Anonymous
less talking, more pics
>> Anonymous
>>63453427
>>63453553
Ever day, I fear running into the /b/tard who originally wrote this copypasta.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
For some reason these pics of a deserted mental institution (Lennox Castle near Glasgow) scare the willies out of me
>> Anonymous
>>63453842

it's a dead girl with green skin. the pictures aren't that creepy.
>> Anonymous
>>63453427
it's not the copypasta itself that is creepy as much as the combination of it and the pic of tito. i mean, the guy just looks so capable of something like that
>> Anonymous
>>63453908

Hello David. I'm outside your window right now posting from my iPhone.
>> Anonymous
>>63454001

hell fucking yes they are

look at her godamn face
>> Anonymous
>>63454001
thanks...and I do believe I've seen that already....lol internet
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63453934
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63454311
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63454421
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63454523
>> Anonymous
why was the ward abandoned?

they just left it to rot?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
FUCK YEAH HYUNDAI TIBURON!!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Mahhhhhhmeeeeeeee...
>> Anonymous
>>63443255

lol, any backstory on that?
>> Anonymous
>>63442033
O SHIT SOMEONES KNOCKING ON MY DOOR NOW

FUUUUCCCKKKKKK

o wait it was just my friend nvm
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item # SCP-100

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-100 is to be kept in a locked room of 50 x 50 meters. Only class D personnel are allowed to enter SCP-100, although it is very discouraged for any person to enter SCP-100 regardless of clearance level. Personnel entering SCP-100 must never close SCP-100’s door and must enter in groups of at least 2 persons. Any analysis of photos or footage of SCP-100's insides must be analyzed by at least 2 persons at the same time.

Description: First discovered in 19?? by 28-years-old ??????? ????? (from hereon referred to as Victim Zero), SCP-100 has the physical appearance of a typical portable toilet. When Victim Zero entered SCP-100 for the first time, he was taken out after 20 minutes when a passer-by heard him screaming from inside SCP-100. After being taken out, he was extremely disturbed and aggressive. Victim Zero was arrested and became highly introverted and reluctant to speak to anyone. When asked about what he saw in SCP-100, he became aggressive and started screaming in terror about "The worst thing in the world" being inside SCP-100. Reports of cases like his continued appearing for some days and site 19 eventually arrived to investigate the case and took Victim Zero under custody.

Apparently, SCP-100 has the property of attracting people in a radius of 20 meters and tempting them to enter it and only attracts one person at a time. Most of the people who enter SCP-100 are never seen again. Those who escape present behavior similar to that of Victim Zero, including the reaction when asked about what was inside SCP-100. Also, many of the survivors developed suicidal tendencies. Apparently, this effect upon people only takes place once the door is closed. Somehow, SCP-100 has the same effect on people even when they are looking at it’s insides through remote monitoring devices.
>> Anonymous
>>63452314
Thanks, I was planning on sleeping tonight.
>> Anonymous
>>63454993
When SCP-100's door is closed its inner area increases dramatically. When entered by more than 1 person at the same time, its insides are a completely empty, white room. Photos and video footage of the insides of SCP-100 show the same empty room when material is viewed by more than 1 person at the same time. When only 1 person enters SCP-100 or sees material of SCP-100, said person suffers the psychological effects of SCP-100

Addendum [SCP-100b]: After much psychological therapy, Victim Zero confessed that he was responsible for creating SCP-100. According to his statement, he used SCP-100 (when it was still a portable toilet) for a ritual he found in a text on the internet. Victim Zero still has given no details about the contents of this text and his reaction when asked about the insides of SCP-100 has not changed. A special team has been formed to locate and take down permanently the text. As of now, there has been no success.

Addendum [SCP-100c]: Attempts to destroy SCP-100 have been futile and have shown a certain level of self-awareness in SCP-100, as people involved in the destruction attempts have exhibited behaviors typical in SCP-100's victims even if they never entered SCP-100. As a consequence of incident SCP-100-0, all future destruction attempts have been suspended (for more information on incident SCP-100-0, see document SCP-100-0b)

Document SCP-100-0b [DATA EXPUNGED]
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63454651

It's fucking criminal what's happened, the castle itself is unsafe and no-one has the funds to restore it, so it sits waiting to fall down, while the surrounding land is being developed into lots of little identical homes for salesmen and their identical little families.
You wouldn't know that - even though the place terrifies me - I have a love for the place, was born there.
>> Anonymous
>>63451990

GODDAMN, I POOPED
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63455091
>born there
Shat bri/x/s
>> Anonymous
>>63454993
>>63455069
Anyone have the paper statue version??
kthnx
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63455091

It didn't all look quite so pretty, here's the main dormitory areas.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442

Good one anon, that made me jump
>> Anonymous
FUCK THATS NUTS!!!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0
>> Anonymous
>>63451207
http://killinginthenameof.ytmnd.com
CBTS
>> Anonymous
>>63452314
I shat brix
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
http://es.youtube.com/watch?v=5BRbOSvl5VM&feature=related
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item #: SCP-173

Object class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container.

Description: Moved to Site19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.

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

>> Anonymous
>>63449834
I bet the owner of the store wrote this because they need to sell their over stock of jiujiebians.
>> Anonymous
>>63443530
Wooaahhh what is this exactly?
>> Anonymous
>>63455726
>>63455726
I REALLY want to hug it
>> Anonymous
>>63456209
I REALLY want to hug you toojgyutrxycrewrxc.
>> Anonymous
>>63437658that resembles a kind of mask that doctors used to wear during the black plague.
>> Anonymous
>>63445026
this confuses me, every time i see it.
>> Anonymous
>>63452997

it's just a corpse, get over it
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63456326
that's because it IS
>>63439995
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This guy looks pretty creepy...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63456755
>>63456755
oh shi
>> Anonymous
>>63441454
>police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found.
then how do you know about it?
>> Anonymous
>>63443255
>>63443255

Is this one real? This idea of people's faces used as masks always scared the fuck out of me as a youngster.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
=/ definatly not sleeping tonight because of this thread
>> Anonymous
The digital clock humming quietly on my nightstand was the only sound that my ears could pick up from my surroundings. The night was dead quiet. I knew he was there. Right on schedule, he would be standing outside my window. He would knock. I, for reasons I wish I could explain, would open the blinds. He would stare at me, and I would stare at him. He would leave soon after, and I would stay awake until the sun began to rise. This was our routine.

My mind was wondering a thousand miles away when he first knocked, though my eyes had stayed lingering on the window. I told myself that I wouldn’t open the blinds. I told myself that tonight he wouldn’t scare me and that I would get the rest I desperately needed. He knocked twice more. I held a pillow over my head and began humming an old song I used to sing in elementary school. He knocked again, and this time, he had a done it a lot less courteously than he had in the past. It had become a loud thumping noise.
>> Anonymous
I threw the pillow off of my head and opened the blinds. His pale, wrinkly face leered in at me. His lifeless, black eyes, that shone despite their darkness, peered into my own. His stringy hair fluttered a little in the wind. He seemed to be breathing somewhat harshly, and though it was hard to determine his mood as anything other than emotionless, I could sense an amount of animosity I had never felt before.

After what seemed like hours, he turned around and was on his way. I faced the ceiling and wept.

This had been going on for more than a month. I had tried to talk to others about it, but I could never finish my sentences. They’d degrade into quiet mumblings and whimpers. I was so tired, and I had even began to wonder if I was losing my mind. I had tried sleeping pills but even they couldn’t help me to sleep through the night. The weirdest part is that I always woke up about five minutes before he knocked. I knew, instinctively, that he would be there. I was so tired.

The next night, I told myself that under no circumstances would I look out the window. I didn’t even care if he was on the verge of breaking the glass, I would not give him what he wanted. I would not feed him. He’d have to find someone else to terrify. He’d have to leave me alone.

I woke up, and I instantly knew what was going to happen. It’s funny, I was anticipating his knocks, and yet I still jumped a little when I finally heard him. I laid in my bed quietly, as if I hadn’t heard anything. He knocked again, and I hid under the pillow once more. He knocked again, even louder than he had the night before. I whimpered, but remained under the pillow. He knocked twice more. After that, things got quiet. I no longer had the feeling I was being watched. I pulled my head out from under my pillow, and slowly looked out the window.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
I WON'T SLEEP TONIGHT LKAJSDNJLNADJLSD
>> Anonymous
>>63445326

That looks like one of those fake towns set up for training soldiers for, well...whatever it is they can't use real towns for.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
Nothing. Just my backyard.

I laughed. I laughed so hard that little tears began to slip out of my eyes. He was somebody else’s problem now. I looked at the clock, noticed I had only been awake for about fifteen minutes, and turned over to go back to sleep.

I had just gotten to that area where dreams mingle with reality when I heard the distant click of a door. My backdoor. Someone had entered into my house from the outside. Something from my backyard. I knew it was him. I listened quietly as his footsteps made their way from my kitchen, to my dining room, to the short hallway outside of my bedroom. He was walking slowly, patiently and was not attempting to hide his presence at all.

He was right outside my bedroom door.

He knocked on my door, and I almost vomited. I wanted to do something, anything. I was paralyzed with fear. He knocked again. Trembling, I pulled the pillow back over my head. All that could be heard was the sound of weeping, knocking, and a digital clock humming quietly to itself.

>> Anonymous
>>63452729
you should try going into the death tunnel at waverly hills sanitorium in louisville, ky
>> Anonymous
>>63458114
>>63457999
>>63457896
>>63457823

Sorry about the extra post.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
http://www.ghostvideos.ws/ghost-causes-rocking-chair-to-rock-by-itself.html
>> Anonymous
>>63445338
HAWT
>> Anonymous
>>63458114
is that it?!
>> Anonymous
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
>>63457897
WINRAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>63458600
Yes.
>> Anonymous
>>63447090
fuckkk
>> Anonymous
Fucking A, anon, that was one of the best short stories I've read in a while.

Sauce plz? Or did you just make that up? Coz if you did, my hat is off to you good sir.
>> Anonymous
>>63458114
FUCKING CLIFFHANGER ENDER RAWRGDSFAGHDSLKL
>> Anonymous
>>63451079
>>63452652

Sorry about the late reply, there were nigger fighting out side of my house, and i had to get the cops. anyway, I wish i could say that the the dots that you see in the picture are dust, but they are different in each picture taken at that party.
>> Anonymous
>>63459030
Dust floats
>> Anonymous
>>63452314
Is this thread still going?
I'll post this again for good measure
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMFolaY-VWY
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
yawn
>> Anonymous
>>63443752
>>63443571
>>63443530
>>63443415
>>63443298
>>63443196
>>63442966
>>63442821

You are the reason that I hate being a photo major.
>> Anonymous
The Sauce for the "So Tired" story was /x/. Beyond that, I don't know. I've only ever seen it once, so I'm glad I saved it. Its really, REALLY good.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63458162

Tunnels are brilliant, this one leads to Longbridge MG car production plant - long closed but look what's inside!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63459479
>> Anonymous
Sauce on that story about Henri Beauchamp pl0x. That was some grade-A SS.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63459608

Prototype MG/F - just left lying around? This place looked like it had been neutron bombed, cups of tea still sitting on canteen tables etc:

http://www.28dayslater.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?t=9749
>> Anonymous
>>63455726

I like these. Write moar.
>> Anonymous
>>63445326

do you live near a military base? that looks like an area for training for urban fighting.
>> Anonymous
>>63459479
?? i dont see anything
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>63460027

Is in the photos below it, should have explained that better
>> Anonymous
>>63459820

too bad 28DL got shut down.
>> Anonymous
>>63440567
HOLY FUCK O_O JOHN!!
>> Anonymous
>>63457912
holy shit!
>> Anonymous
>>63459966

http://www.editthis.info/scp_wiki/SCP_Series
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
made that pic lighter me and my best friend went to spyhouse in NJ at night was scary
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63460395

Yeah I loved the photos a lot of these guys managed to get, there's still loads of sites with people still doing urban exploration (in the UK anyway - like hiddenglasgow.com that I got the Lennox Castle pics further up from) but with developers moving in everywhere people are getting busted hard now for doing it.
One more before bed, an unused MOD nuclear shelter right in the middle of Glasgow:

http://www.hiddenglasgow.com/military/lumatower.htm
>> Anonymous
>>63455091
is it haunted or what?
would they sell it to some random person err what?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
same im sleepy hope I don't have nightmares all these scary pics this is good thread
>> Anonymous
urbex is pretty much the shit. here in colorado we have abandoned missile silos. cool fuckin stuff.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442

NEVER FUCKING AGAIN AM I READING A CREEPY THREAD WITHOUT CHECKING THE FILE EXTENSION. Jesus fucking christ.
>> Anonymous
>>63462430

I've seen those too, heavy fucking stuff, is it the ones with the access tunnels and living quarters underground? Think someone was thinking of putting in a bid to develop one as some sort of holiday home.
>> Anonymous
>>63462519

Welcome to the internet. You might want to try Gaiaonline.com, it might be a little bit more your speed.
>> Anonymous
ive been reading and following this thread for a few hours now.
Nobody is home and I'm sitting alone in a big room with all the lights off. I'm freaked out as all hell and its 2:05 and I wish i could get up to go to sleep but I cant because of all you bastards...

What I'm trying to say is.....MOAR CREEPY!!!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>63462383

Here's a plan of the area, I live reasonably close to it so was gonna do some parties there before it got totally bulldozed, I'm always tempted to go do what Det. Finch did in the V for Vendetta graphic novels, take acid and stroll around to pick up the vibes? But as I mentioned having been born there and having some residual memory of it I'm shit scared to go near the place.
>> Anonymous
MOAR
>> Anonymous
ALL THIS STUFF IS FAKE, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS GHOSTS. THE ONLY THING YOU SHOULD FEAR IS MEH COCK!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Get the fuck out you tool you we dont care about your lame post byebye
>> Anonymous
>>63462383

Forgot to mention, Glasgow Celtic FC bought part of the grounds to build a training facility but as far as I know the castle itself is still awaiting someone to offer to restore it, if that doesn't happen it'll just go to ruins.
>> Anonymous
>>63462430
I live next to STRATCOM. We have dozens of abandoned missile silos in pretty much every direction. It's always been a dream of mine to purchase one and convert it into a home.
>> Anonymous
I want to go inside spooky house any one know a spooky house in NJ ?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
<< Scariest thing ive ever seen
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
FUCK YOU ANON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>63463712

I concur, that person needs skinned alive for that.
>> Anonymous
>>63438442
New pants needed...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
scary
>> Anonymous
>>63438536

Got a screwdgie?
>> Anonymous
>>63457238
OWNED