File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Janet was driving home on the outskirts of Couer D’ Alene, Idaho. It was late and she was tired from serving dinners all day and most of the night at her table waiting job.

At the last red light, before the road turned to highway, the car behind her hit his lights high beam and low beam over and over. Irritated she blew through the light and sped away into the country section of the highway.

The car followed her, very closely, and on tight curves, or over hills, he would hit his high beams on and off.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Terrified Janet sped through the pines, over a dirt road she knew well, hoping to put some distance between herself and the menacing tailgater. At the top of a hill near her home she would have car phone signal for only a minute or two. Carefully dialing 911, she held her finger on the “call” button, as the lights blinked again, high and low beams, glaring in her rear window.

Just at the top of the hill she hit “call” button and screamed into the phone “a car is following me on Twin Lakes Road, he is tailgating, and blinking his lights at me!”

Janet gave her address, and in a few minutes she saw red blinking lights following her, she breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled into her driveway, but suddenly the tailgater pulled in tight behind her and savagely blinked rapid fire HIGH, LOW, HIGH, LOW!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Four patrol cars screeched to a stop on Janet’s drive and lawn, they pulled the man out of the tailgater car and spread-eagled him on the lawn. With guns drawn they arrested him as he screamed “There is someone in her car, someone in her car!”

Then a deputy approached Janet to calm her, he suddenly drew his pistol and fired into her back seat, two rounds less than a second apart.

Janet screamed and turned around. The bloody corpse of murderer was in her back seat, still holding the butcher knife intended for her throat. There were duct tape, a hood, and handcuffs lying on the seat next to him.

The tailgater in the grass said, “I blinked my lights every time I saw him raise the knife!”
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
On an isolated road, around midnight, in upstate NY, a man and his girlfriend are driving. Suddenly a car approaches them from behind. "Pull over!" he says. The man shrugs and turns in a dirt road. He gets out and talks to the man. "What is it, babe?" the girlfriend asks, but she gets no answer. She shrugged and continued to browse through the different radio stations. Then she heard a crash "Babe?" she said hesitantly. She ran out of the car and saw her boyfriend's head bouncing back and forth on the radio antennae. The back lights were smashed in. Screaming, she goes to get her cell phone out of the car. As soon as she opens the car door she hears, "No use. . . No one will answer you."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A man saw a Ferrari at a used-car sale and asked for the price of the car. The salesman lit up with a smile and said he'd give it to the man for $500 dollars. The man bought the car instantly on the spot after hearing the ridiculously cheap deal.

The man had the car for months now, but on a cold, winter day as he got into the driver's seat he was startled to see someone in the rear-view mirror. He quickly turned around and saw nothing in the empty seat and quickly shrugged it off thinking he must have imagined it.

As the cold days went by, the car doors started to lock up on him, the engine would stall, and he would hear sounds of something hitting in the back. The man started getting anxious about this bad omen. That horror soon showed itself as he was driving to the airport to pick up his relatives. He looked up and saw 3 bloody bodies in the rear-view mirror staring at him. He screamed and realized that this car is really haunted and fled from the car.

Later he heard the story of the car from the salesman. The police found the car 2 years ago abandoned in an empty airport parking stall where 2 dead bodies were found in the back seat and another one found in the trunk.

Never mind that a Ferrari can neither fit this many people in its back seat, assuming it even has one, nor in its trunk.
>> Anonymous
OP you motherfucker
I hate you
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.

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

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

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

Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
     File :-(, x)
A young couple has just been married at a large family wedding. The reception is held at the bride's grandmother's house. After they have had dinner and cake and such they all decide to play hide and go seek, which has been a tradition in the bride's family for quite some time. The bride, knowing the house, decides to hide in the attic in a large chest, but when she climbs in she slips and the lid to it comes crashing down. It knocks her out and she is now locked, unconscious, in the chest.

Meanwhile the rest of the family is searching for her and is starting to get worried. After hours of calling for her and searching the house they call the police, who are also unable to find the missing bride. The bride eventually wakes up but is unable to get out so starves to death.

Years later the bride's younger sister is married and when she turns to hide in the very same chest she is horrified to find her sister's remains rotted away in her wedding dress, now covered in blood from her frantically trying to claw her way out.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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. For the remaining 45 minutes of video, until the batteries in the camera died, it remained in its stationary position.

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 height and stature of the woman in the video didn't come close to matching the body they'd found in the oven.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
It's early in the morning. The sun won't be up for another couple of hours. You're fast asleep in bed, lost in a dream, when the phone rings. Rather than waking up, you roll over and cover your head with a pillow. Hours pass. The sun rises. The phone is ringing.

When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning. You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice. Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one. The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.

Screaming.

You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.

The phone beeps again. You're shaking.

>> Anonymous
>>71006794
FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKK

I WAS EXPECTING NIGGERS LIKE IN EVERY OTHER WHEN YOU SEE IT FUUUUUUCK CAPS LOCK SHIT
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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."

>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage).

So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the angel statue outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an angel statue."

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No angel statue was ever found.
>> Anonymous
Can someone pass me another marshmellow and toss a log on the fire?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A 15-year old boy in a small town in Maryland sat down at his computer after getting home from school one day. He turned it on and logged into an instant messaging program, and was then surprised to receive a message from a classmate of his, who had been absent that day.

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

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

When the police arrived, they found three corpses, as well as tracks leading away from the house from the back door. The forensics report concluded that the entire family, the boy's classmate and his parents, had been killed sometime the previous night.
>> Anonymous
>>71006794
>>71007164
>>71007403

What this story fails to mention is that they all would have died once they exceeded 30 mph. Why? Because retards from Idaho don't know how to drive.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you. You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now. You then drop the phone in shock.

There are no footprints in the snow. It's his reflection.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71010324

REEEEEEBLEELEBEELARGHARLAGERRR
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
>> Anonymous
>>71010973
That's one of my favorite creepypastas.
>> 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, and 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 disappearing.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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, and 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 disappearing.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A young man and his new bride were honeymooning in Paris when his wife went into a restroom and didn't return. With time the man began to fear the worst and went to the police. The police thought it was most likely the girl simply had second thoughts about the marriage, but they checked it out anyway and found no evidence of foul play.

As weeks turned into months the man finally gave up on finding his beautiful wife, but his life fell into a shambles, he was so filled with grief.

Unable to hold a job or go on with his life, he took to wandering the world looking for anything that might ease his pain. Years later in Borneo he came upon a freak show in an old shabby building, he went in on a whim. In the last filthy cage he saw a twisted, scarred and mutilated woman rocking back and forth and groaning strange animal-like noises. He screamed as he recognized the birthmark on his wife's face.
>> Anonymous
Awesome thread.
>> Anonymous
Accidentally waking up in the middle of the night and peeking thru the window will prompt a “guest” to enter your bedroom door.
>> Anonymous
obvious gif is obvious.
>> Anonymous
MOAR CREEPYPASTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
There it goes again. Something definitely moved this time. It was very brief, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw something. But wait. All the doors are locked, no pets, and your parents won’t get home until 10. So there’s no way something moved. It’s just your imagination getting the best of you. Sitting alone in your room, the only light emitting from the monitor of your computer, you stare into the darkness for several minutes. Just to be sure. Now you feel silly. What were you thinking? Of course there’s nothing there. What, are you 6? Go back to what you were doing.

15 minutes later, as you prepare to go to bed, you’re in the bathroom. The shower curtains shift. Wait… no. Stop spooking yourself. It’s just an overactive imagination, filling your head with what isn’t really there. You gaze into the mirror at yourself. You say it to yourself, slowly and clearly, “Imagination.” With a sigh, you turn the lights off and head towards your room.

Laying in bed, you stare at your ceiling, dark and foreboding, only the motion of a small fan disturbing the calmness of the night. A shadow from the light in the hall shifts. No. No, no, no. Stop it. It’s your imagination. Just that. Go to sleep, you fool.

But then, just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, at the phase no one remembers when they wake, you sense something in the darkness. It’s your imagination, leering down at you. With a jagged, macabre smile.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
moar plz
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In Gjoberdik, a small fisherman’s village in the country of Bulgaria, on the dawn of January the first everyone closes their curtains and hold their breath for half a minute. Hours after the craze of midnight’s celebrations, children look questioning at their worried parents, but can not help to shiver in the embrace of their shaking parents.

One can hear the sound of bells being struck exactly 25 times last year, in this short timespan. The nearest church however, is over 32 miles away. You will find no one out on the streets in these faithful 30 seconds, and even the birds will stop whistling.

Some have gone out of their houses, roaring boldly in disbelief of this century old tradition. On the first sunset of this year, two people gambled their fate in the very first rays of sunlight.

The next dawn, the bells will be struck 27 times.
>> Anonymous
This creepypasta would be great if only it was on /x/...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn’t certain of which direction to go, and he’d forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He’d sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: “Now your *third* wish. What will it be?”
“Third wish?” The man was baffled. “How can it be a third wish if I haven’t had a first and second wish?”
“You’ve had two wishes already,” the hag said, “but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That’s why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes.” She cackled at the poor man. “So it is that you have one wish left.”
“All right,” he said, “I don’t believe this, but there’s no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am.”
“Funny,” said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. “That was your first wish.”
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Every time you exhale, a little bit of your soul escapes. Luckily, you almost always inhale it back before anyone else gets to it. Almost.

Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?

Don’t do that.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored wristbands which symbolizes other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead people.

There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator door opened another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised the woman reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other woman in.

The doctor said “that was the woman i just operated on. She died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was wearing?”

The woman smiled and raised her arm “something like this?”
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
For a brief period in 1971, a New Jersey based company sold novelty “x-ray” glasses through the mail via advertisements in the Marvel line of comic books. People who viewed their televisions while wearing these glasses reported seeing images that were “hellish” or “like hell”.

It should be noted that this phenomena occured whether the televisions in question were turned on or not. The company quickly went out of business and investigations reveal that the company’s address leads to a graveyard founded many decades before 1971.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.

Today a friend of mine told me a story.

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

“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.

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…
>> Anonymous
>>71012385
This one is great.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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.

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.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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.

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)
Don’t look in public restroom mirrors too long. They get curious, and start looking back.
>> Anonymous
>>71013316

fuck...

thanks for the amnesia :(
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee.

The medic made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never this short on supplies.

The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark hours of the morning - New Year’s Day, 1945.

The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, with no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood.

The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial.

None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
>> Anonymous
>>71012087
fuck you
im home alone and to scared to fucking get up and switch on the lights....
fuck you huys
creepypasta dump
>> Anonymous
>>71013919

Insomnia?
>> noko Anonymous
>>71013919

It's "insomnia", fucktard.
>> 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...
>> Anonymous
>>71014158

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can try to outrun her, but she's faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she's knocking on your door, she won't be so courteous when she catches up to you.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A déjà vu is actually a glitch in reality, and it indicates that something has just been changed. Someone or something has ceased to exist, all memories and records of their existence erased forever.

A déjà vu happens when they get into your brain, when they need to change your memories. Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had.
>> Anonymous
>>71014248
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.
>> Anonymous
>>71006794

Fuck. I are idiot.
>> Anonymous
>>71014158
>>71014248

Already been done faggot
>> Anonymous
>>71014345

Then a little girl's voice spoke over the line: "WITNESS." I hung up.

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

Nice knowing you guys, it's been fun

WITNESS
>> Anonymous
I had protected consensual sex in the missionary position with my wife!
>> Anonymous
>>71012560

someone should post that awesome fake military report that goes with this pic

those were cool
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
>>71014133

OH FUCK!!!

thx mate
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
We've all heard it. The incessant barking from your one of your neighbors dog. Late in the night, the barking will wake you, and you will scream at the dog out of the window. One night, you hear the dog barking more than normal, but you will ignore it. The dog barks again, louder and faster than before, and you ignore it. The final time, the dog is barking loud enough to practically shake your ears. You go out and throw a brick at the dog in the back yard, which silences the dog for good. Proud of yourself, you fall back asleep. Deep in your dream, all you see are dogs barking. Through an infinite void, just dogs.

The next morning, The Police find a number of footprints coming from the dog house, a bloody corpse hanging from the back door, and one dog with a brick lodged in it's skull.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You're the manager for a small store. You hired one of your friends, and you just found out that he's been stealing from the register, stealing stock, abandoning his post to visit with his girlfriend in the back room while he's the only one on duty, and the argument you had with him at the office just didn't settle it for you. You pound on his door. When he opens up, he goes pale, soils himself, and staggers back, gasping for breath.

It doesn't impress you, really; you figure he just thinks you're showing up with the cops, until you step through his door and glance to the side, where you get a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Or at least, the parts of you that are still recognizable after that shotgun blast that your friend gave you at the end of that argument...
>> 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
>>71010324
ill get on that
>>71010617
thats sum fucked up shit. i hate it when it looks like theres something outside and i turn around and its some motherfucker
never a murder... yet
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
The next time you make a purchase, hand the clerk a $1 bill and ask her to make change. She will hand you back a number of coins, several of which bear the likenesses of long dead historical figures.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I believe it was about 2 years ago that we received a phone call saying that my brother-in-law’s dad had been found dead…murdered. I had the privilege of being the only person from my family (besides my sister) to meet this man. He looked like Santa with long grey hair and a big white beard. He had a few extra inches as well. He was a sweet man. Cheerful. He lived out west somewhere in the mountains. He looked like a mountain man. His only neighbor lived miles away. Unfortunately he came home at the wrong time. His house had been broken into. When he arrived the burglar hid in the closet and waited. The dad was walking around realizing that someone had been inside. Then he was shot in the head from behind. The burglar put his body in the dad’s car and drove off. His neighbor recalled seeing the car drive by with someone else behind the wheel. The body was dumped in the woods. It wasn’t found until days later
>> noko Anonymous
>>71015508

Duh, coins have long dead historical figures on them...

(in europe at least...)
>> Anonymous
>>71015508
I just lost The Game.
Also, isn't that pic supposed to be a .gif?
>> Anonymous
>>71015508
HOLY FUCK
>> Anonymous
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. they called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the grass was already growing outside the window. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was ok with the yard. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want the grass watching too much garbage). So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could put the mudkipz statue to bed. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the grass and get out of the yard... we will call the police. We do not like mudkipz."

The police found the babysitter dead and the yard destroyed within three minutes of the call. No mudkipz statues were ever found.
>> Anonymous
>>71015793
wat
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
hmmm
creepypasta
best creepypasta thread evar
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
If you are reading this:

Do not move. Scroll down and pretend that you are reading this thread.

It wasn't your imagination.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In a small orphanage in a small village in Russia, there is a young boy. His hair is jet black, messy, and his eyes are grey, and hollow, icy with their glare.
Nothing is known of him, of his past or heritage, how he even got there.
For 10 years, he sat in the bed in his room, never moving, never blinking, never eating or sleeping. In those 10 years, he has not seemed to age at all, continuing to look like a 7 year old boy. The only thing that proved he was even alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and the refusal to take his eyes off anyone who enters the room alone.
A lone psychiatrist came over in an attempt to find out why the boy had done nothing in 10 years. He entered the room, and shut the door behind him.
30 minutes later, the orphanage's nurse came to check on the 2 of them. Opening the door, she saw the child, still sitting, still not moving, eyes fixed on her. However, something seemed different. He appeared a slight amount larger, not by much, but enough to make him look like a late 8 or early 9 year old. The psychiatrist was no longer in the room. The door was the only exit, as the room had no windows, vents, or anything, and it was, in fact, in the exact center of the orphanage.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
He continued to sit, only seen occasionally by the lady who came in to check on him, and she never closed the door upon entry.
A week or so later, 2 law enforcement personnel entered the orphanage, demanding to speak to the boy about the disappearance of the psychiatrist. The 2 of them entered, closing the door behind him, as the head of the orphanage stood outside the door.
30 minutes passed, and not a sound came from the room. The Head eased the door open. The boy was still on the bed, but the officers where no longer there. The boy was now quite noticeably bigger, about the size of a 15 year old. His skin was darker than usual, and he looked angrier than ever. But one thing remained the same: His cold, unforgiving stare, directed at whoever entered.
Eventually, the law organized a large group of 10 officers to speak to the boy. They entered the room, and left the door open, until one of the younger orphans ran up and shut it, apparently in a daze.
The head quickly ran to re-open the door, and upon doing so froze him in horror. A low, guttural rumbling noise came from the room....

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

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

".....One.....more...."
>> Anonymous
>>71016546
This one's been recently recycled as an urban myth. s'on snopes and everything. incidentally, this thread rocks
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You’re taking a shower one evening when you notice specks of mould beginning to grow at the base of the tiles. Irritated, you vow to clean the disgusting, black mould off, tomorrow.
The next day you bring a bucket, scrubbing brush and numerous cleaning liquids into your bathroom. The mould seems to have spread quite rapidly, and is now thicker, clinging in patches to the once clean tiles.
You scrub away at it for hours, but the mould seems to be impossible to shift. In fact, it seems to be growing as you scour it.
You give up hours later in a huff, slightly vexed, and think about calling someone to clean it. Maybe some sort of exterminator.
It’s only then that you notice specks of mould, crammed under your fingernails.
>> Anonymous
>>71012087
yeah i hate that
thank god i haz like over 9000 pets that i can blame it on and i sleep with the tv on so i can see everything
but im kinda afraid of the dark. im way too old to be. lots of my fears seem to be like creepypasta ive read. fuck you all.
also fear of the dark by iron maiden is bascily what im like
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You're at work alone, when you suddenly hear the copy machine start up. You walk out to take a look at what's going on and see several copies filling the tray. Picking up one of the pieces of paper you discover that it is a copy of a picture depicting you sitting in your office chair, dead, with your eyes torn out and your throat cut. The others are the same picture, but taken from increasingly bizarre angles.

There is no original picture in the copy machine. In fact, the machine has been out of toner for a week.
>> ­
>>71016783
but I can't scroll down o_o;;
>> Anonymous
i had a massive erection before i saw OPs pic.

fuck off and die OP asshole.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
fucking faggot


fuck you mindgames
>> Anonymous
>>71017775
haha learn to look at the file type

>>71017850
fuck you
now i wont be able to sleep for a week
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
It's about 9:35 at night. The show on your TV is silent, the volume turned down. Maybe you're one of those people that has to have a static noise and picture, even when listening to or watching something else.

The living room light is on. Two of the five bulbs have burnt out. The one in the back seems the next to go, but you don't think much about it as you stretch out in your chair.

Something begins gnawning at the back of your mind. It's just a normal Monday night, the rain outside a steady drizzle that freezes as it hits the road. Something that makes you want to look out the large pannel window beside you, covered up by a Harley Davidson blanket to keep the warmth in the house.

You try and distract yourself, turning on your favorite band. Maybe it's Collective Soul, or Rammstein, or anything. Something to take your mind off of it. It's only 9:37 now, just a few minutes later, and you still have this urge to turn around and look out that window, shrouded by a black and orange blanket.
You hear a slight tapping on the glass, like a fingertip trying to get your attention. You turn the music up louder, trying to drown it out. It becomes louder and more insistent now, faster and faster, still trying to draw your attention.

"It's in my head, I'm just worked up, too little sleep. Last night was crazy." You tell yourself. The rapping on the window ceases, and you begin to settle back in. It's 9:41. You turn your attention back to the TV, commercials flooding your brain.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
The tapping returns. A simple, sharp tap. Curiosity overwrites fear, and you lift up the blanket with your left hand, expecting to see a stray limb from a tree smacking the window from the wind outside, or maybe nothing at all.

A long, pale white tongue drags across the window, smacking back with another tap. Your heart stops as you look up, seeing two great, white staring eyes bulging from an elongated face, lacerated with boiling cuts and keloid scars, coated with burns, it's face nearly as long as your window itself. It's upside down, hanging from your ceiling. It's mouth is lined with razor-sharp teeth, there may be thousands or millions of them. Several are rotten and pulsating, and it keeps staring at you. It's cavernous mouth seems to be smiling. Like it knows something you don't...
>> Anonymous
>>71018498
Some of these are so ridiculous they cant be creepy.
>> Anonymous
I love this thr

WITNESS
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You were out of town for the weekend. When you came back to your apartment, your mailbox was stuffed full. At least 30 letters. Letters with no return address, several of them felt soggy and heavy, as though they were recently wet, or perhaps contained a liquid. All of the letters have your name and address written on them, and many of them had your name scratched all over them in red ink. They don't smell nice, they smell like rotting meat and old garbage and you're reluctant to take them back to your room, but curiosity gets the better of you.

So you manage to cart them all back to your room, you dump them in your kitchenette sink because you don't want them smelling up the rest of the apartment. You grab one that doesn't seem damp and isn't covered with writing, and open it up. There's pictures inside. Pictures of people you don't know, with their eyes torn out, teeth missing, unhinged jaws hanging open, throats ripped out. You're horrified and yet you can't help but wonder what's in the rest of the letters. You open more, and more to discover increasingly gruesome photos of dead people. Piles of bodies with limbs missing, splayed open corpses on operating tables with their vital organs removed, hanged bodies that have been gutted and bled dry. Some of the soggy letters had blood and other fluids in them. The more letters you open, the more you notice that not all of the people are strangers. Some of them were people you see at work, others people you went to high school with. By the time you get to the last few letters, the pictures are of the mutilated bodies of your close friends and family members.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Eventually you reach the last letter. You don't want to know what's in it, but it's not like you have a choice now. You peel the letter open, and it's a picture of yourself. Not dead, eyes intact, no limbs missing. It's a picture of you entering your apartment building earlier that day, shortly before you collected your disgusting letters. As you hear a door elsewhere in your apartment open, you black out.
>> Anonymous
>>71007164

FUCK.

Cannot believe I fell for that.
>> Anonymous
I CAME BRICKS
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
The carnival was in town. My little brother wanted me to take him, so I gave in and said we could go. We get there and this carnival creeps me out--the rides are creaky and look like they'll fall apart any second, the ride operators just sit there giving real nasty grins while they let the rickety rides continue.

They don't seem safe enough to ride so I encourage my brother to let me take him to the freakshow tent. When we get nearby, a clown--he looked disfigured and kind of menacing, but that might have just been the makeup--guides us into the tent. The 'freaks' are just that, actual freaks. There's no strongman or fire swallowers, these people are extremely scary and unnerving to look at--what makes it worse is that they resemble people we know, our neighbors, parents, teachers. They look like messed up and deformed version of them. It was creepy but we figured it was just our minds playing tricks on us.

We finally made it to the end of the freakshow area and when we were back outside, the whole atmostphere of the carnival seemed different. The rides looked newer and cleaner, the clowns and carnies seemed less sinister and more friendly. When we got back home, nobody was there. Later in the day, we kept waiting and waiting and no one came home. The next day were were still alone and I called the cops to file missing person reports.

Thinking back to the freaks we saw at the carnival, I grabbed my brother and we rushed back to where it had been the previous day. Nothing was there. No rides, no nothing. Just an empty lot.
>> Anonymous
>>71008764
Shit man...
>> Anonymous
bricks were shat... seriously bricks...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
It might happen one morning that you wake up home alone. This could be normal depending on your situation, but this morning will be different. While your environment will all seem exactly the same, you’ll notice that everything is quieter than normal. If you go outside, you will notice a distinct lack of anything like birds, insects… or people. As far as you travel, you will not encounter another sentient human being. The entire world will be intact, but empty except for yourself.

There are currently over 100,000 missing persons cases in the United States. Some are just normal cases of murder or kidnappings, but in others, the disappearance cannot be explained and no remains of the person are ever located.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In 1959, nine experienced Russian cross-country skiers — seven men and two women, led by a man named Igor Dyatlov — headed to the Ural Mountains, to a slope called Kholat Syakhl (Mansi language for "Mountain of the Dead," ahem) for a rugged, wintry trek. On their way up, they are apparently hit by inclement weather and veer off course and decide to set up camp and wait it out. All is calm. All is fine and good. They even take pictures of camp, the scenery, each other. The weather is not so bad. They go to sleep.

Then, something happens. In the middle of the night all nine suddenly leap out of their tents as fast as possible, ripping them open from the inside (not even enough time to untie the doors) and race out into the sub-zero temps, without coats or boots or skis, most in their underwear, some even barefoot or with a single sock or boot. It is 30 degrees below zero, Celsius. A few make it as far as a kilometer and a half down the slope. All nine, as you might expect, quickly die.

And so it begins.


Why did they rush out, unable to even grab a coat or blanket? What came at them? The three-month investigation revealed that five of the trekkers died from simple hypothermia, with no apparent trauma at all, no signs of attack, struggle, no outward injuries of any kind. However, two of the other four apparently suffered massive internal traumas to the chest, like you would if you were hit by a car. One's skull was crushed. All four of these were found far from the other five. But still, no signs of external injuries.
>> Anonymous
but

WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
No bricks were shat due to slow loading time. It came at me very slowly.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A teenage baby-sitter put the kids she was watching to sleep in their beds and went back downstairs. The late night news was on the TV — the reporter said a psychopath from a local mental institution was on the loose and that police thought he might be in the area. He cautioned residents to lock their doors and windows because this guy was very, very dangerous.

Well, the teenager checked the locks on the windows and the doors, but she forgot the door on the cellar bulkhead. Needless to say, the psychopath broke in about an hour later, coming up from the cellar, armed with an ax. The children heard some noises downstairs, but thought it was the baby-sitter moving some furniture around. Then it got real quiet.

All they heard for the remainder of the night was this noise: “Thump! Thump! Dra-aag… Thump! Thump! Dra-aag…” Evidently, they were too afraid to get up to see what it was. In the morning, their parents came home and were horrified to find the babysitter at the top of the stairs, dead with both arms hacked off at the elbows. She’d been climbing the stairs on the bloody stumps of her arms, pulling her badly injured body along. Was she trying to check on the children? Was she trying to get help? Or in the madness of her tortured soul, was she planning to kill the children herself?
>> Anonymous
>>71010324
Heres another log for the fire.... But we're out of marshmallows.
>> Anonymous
>>71019476
i once read this creepy pasta, lol next day nobody was home no birds nothing, walked for a mile and still nothing, lol so im starting to shit bricks, i go back home and what do i find at the entrance? "BRB GOING TO CHURCH BRA"
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71019768

ME
>> De su
>>71006794
HOLY SHIT FUCKING SHIT? IS THAT SOME KIND OF SCRIPT? I LIVE IN COUER D' ALENE!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡
>> Anonymous
My back room has a television and a couch parallel to it. The couch is right by the door. I was laying on it one night with my head towards the door and my cat laying on my chest. She was purring heavily and was content, when her ears went back, pupils dialated. She was staring at the door intensely, her claws were digging into my chest. No noise or anything had provoked her, so I turned around to see what she was looking at. There was nothing in the doorway, and I look back in my cats eyes. In her eyes was a reflection of a black figure wearing a brimmed hat and after that-it disappeared.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Since before I could remember, I’ve wanted to be a mother. It seemed my whole childhood and teenager years were spent yearning for a child of my own. By the time I was nine, I had names–and color schemes for the nursery–picked out. All I needed was someone to make them with. But college was disappointing. I went through a whole string of bad boyfriends and bad father material. Getting on with my career didn’t seem to help much. I realized, though–when I was twenty-seven, and there were no suitable prospects on the line–that, technically, I did not need a man to have a
child with. Just a very particular product of his. I found a sperm donor bank, chose the best prospect they had, got out my turkey baster and… well… hoped for the best.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
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
     File :-(, x)
I was overjoyed when my first pregnancy test came out positive. My doctor was surprised to see me coming in sooner than he’d expected. Before I was four weeks along, I had the nursery painted, and the furniture set up. Toys and diapers, bottles and books, bibs and coveralls. I had everything a new mother would need.

I couldn’t explain all the weight I was losing. I kept getting thinner–everything except for my belly. My friends all joked that it had to be at least twins. Or the biggest baby they’d ever seen.

I got weary of the kicking somewhere in the third trimester. And the scratching.

Just one more week until my due date.

I just wish it would stop gnawing.
>> Anonymous
SON OF A FUCK GOT ME WITH THE GHOST GIF
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Every individual will make 16 choices in their lifetime that will forever alter the course of humanity. No more than 16, no less than 16. These choices will be small, and at the time of decision, will mean nothing. They won’t have to be choices which result in action, they could be choices that result in inaction. But months, years along the way, when the full impact of your decisions and the chain reaction of events they have caused are felt… you may have been the one who caused the end of the world. And you will never know.
>> Anonymous
>>71020763
Not particularly creepy...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A strange ringtone plays on your cell phone, you reach for it but whoever it was must have hung up, a wrong number maybe. You look at the phone anyway. You’ve missed a call. You listen to it. When you put the phone to your ear. Suddenly you hear a scream of pain, you toss the cell across the room, but you can still hear it.

When you finally pick the phone up you see who the call was from, you realize who’s voice it was.

Yours.
>> Random Asshole
>>71021027
Motherfucker got me too.
>> Anonymous
MOARRRRRRRRRRR
>> Anonymous
>>71020847
Oh man i love these, more?
>> Anonymous
>>71020891
it doesn't stop here now does it?
post the rest!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Which city? That depends on who you ask. There may even be more than one, who knows? Anyway, this mail box isn’t emptied anymore - the mail service has completely forgotten about it. But it clings on. It is located in some relatively unlikely place so you won’t spot it immediately. Mail you put inside it won’t go anywhere.

But the box is special. Write a letter about your most pressing problems to the persons in charge of dealing with it: write to your significant other, your boss, the IRS, and get it all off your chest. Ride yourself into deep shit with that letter. You’ll see that the problem will dissolve soon, in some way you hadn’t thought likely.

The snag of course is that you can’t really be sure whether you have found the right mail box until you try it. And if you haven’t things are going to get much worse once your letter gets delivered…
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71021733
YOU, my good man, are in luck!

Subject # SCP-441

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Subject SCP-441 must at all times be stored in a room without reflective surfaces. The walls of this room should be no less than 10 feet thick, preferably reinforced concrete. Due to the perceived potentially hazardous nature of Subject #441, no personnel with less than level 3 clearance are to access its containment chamber and with in groups of no less than five. Protective visors, ID tags and all reflective items are to be removed before entering the containment cell.

Description: SCP-441 appears to be an intelligent silicon based life form, a "living statue", so to speak. Roughly humanoid in form, it is 2.5 meters tall and dark-grey in appearance. It is animate and displays occasional signs of sentience, though it has yet to physically, verbally or symbolically respond to any attempts at communication beyond turning to focus upon the source of the communication.

Subject #441 is tame and docile the majority of the time. It does not object to attempts to touch it. However, if at any point it catches even the slightest glimpse of itself in a reflective surface, it flies into a destructive rage, displaying terrifying strength and speed. How Subject "sees" its reflection, given that it has no eyes or other visual facilities that are observable, is still unknown. Tests have yet to determine why it becomes so enraged upon sight of itself. Dr. ????? has theorised that it is territorial involving all others of it's kind, and mistakes mirrors as another of its kind. This theory has not been proven because testing such a thing could send it into another fit of rage, possibly destroying the facility.

Origin: Found in Prague, surrounded by broken glass.
>> Anonymous
>>71021825

No that's it. It's the continuation of this one.

>>71020763
>> Anonymous
>>71014660
>>71014660
>>71014660
>>71014660
>>71014660
FUCK! BRICKS WERE SHAT!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>71011469
Fuck. I think that's one of the scariest images on this thread.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In 1938, over 6,000 patients were checked into mental hospitals all across America within one week of each other. Reports of similar instances supposedly came from Europe and Asia as well. The circumstances of each patient were, eerily, identical.

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

The only thing the patients would say was: “There is not, and never has been, such a thing in this world as a meaningless coincidence.”
>> Anonymous
>>71022483
Ruined by the voice of my inner jokester that supplied me with a "DURRRRRRRR" sound effect upon seeing the woman's face.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item#: SCP-232

Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-232 is to be kept lit at all times. No shadows should be allowed to form in the presence of this object. Should one of the redundant light bulbs burn out, a two agent team may enter to replace the bulb, one to change the bulb and one to carry the lamp to prevent shadows from occuring behind the agent changing the bulb. The lamp is stored in the cabinet outside the room, and must be inspected before each use.

Description:Moved to Site 19 5/7/1997. Origin is suspected to be of Sumerian design. SCP-232 is a statue of the goddess Ereshkigal, being offered a liver by what is assumed to be an utukku, or Sumerian demon. When SCP-232 is in the presence of slight shadows, agents may note the sensation of claws dragging lightly against or through their skin. In the presence of heavy shadows, light scratches to deep gouges may appear. The eyes of the statue have been noted to follow teams as they enter.

Blood and viscera left in the presence of the statue have been noted to inexplicably vanish before they may be cleaned, so sanitation staff is not required in the event of activity. Class 2 hazardous containment procedures should be maintained in the event of activity.

In the event of complete power failure, the entry airlock will be sealed automatically.

Addendum: Those with Level 2 Security Clearance should see document #232-1

Document #232-1: SCP-232 additional procedures

In the event of activity, those directly involved should be monitored as per protocol 11B in the Security clearance database. SCP-232 is suspected to use some of its victims to survey the surrounding area.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I’d had them ever since I was a kid.

I can remember being incredibly self-conscious about them, hiding them in my
pockets under books and bags. The kids at school never said anything to my
face, but I knew they were laughing behind my back.

I remember asking my parents to take me to the doctor, to get them checked
out. The growths on my hands seemed to be the elephant in the room back
then, since they’d just say I was fine and change the subject. But I knew
better.

I had tried to remove them as a child, but without avail. Scissors, knives,
potatoe peelers; trying to cut or scrape them off was always a lost cause
because I couldn’t continue once the pain kicked in.

But today was different. It’s amazing how numb you can get with a couple of
tourniquettes and a bottle of Jack Daniels. I was originally planning to use
a sharp knife, but figured that trying to slice through the tough flesh of
the growths would be too arduous in my drunken state. I opted for the
slightly more technological plan B.
>> Anonymous
>>71011469
Fuck. I think that's one of the creepiest images on this thread.
>>71015508
OH MY GOD, SRSLY?
>> Anonymous
thx to my slow interweb, it loaded the shebitch so slow i got a nice long look at er
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71022863

I had to hurry though. I was already pretty light-headed and was starting to
feel dizzy. My hands and forearms, nearly blue from the lack of circulation,
couldn’t wait much longer either. The whirring of the blender helped to put
me in a sort of trance–ready to do what I had wanted to do since I first
looked down at my strange deformities.

I shoved my left hand in first. The immediate sensation of sharp blades
slicing through flesh was jarring, but I was surprised at how well the
alcohol was working–I expected it to hurt more. I could hear the sharp
metal churning and cutting, working perfectly as planned. I pressed my hand
down harder. All those bad memories, all of the embarrasment–all of those
horrible things were now nothing more than a thick red pulp.

Breaking from the feelings of ectsasy, I pulled out before the blades hit
knuckle. I smiled, taking a good look at my new hand. As for the
growths–well, five down, and five to go.
>> Anonymous
>>71022036
moar!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Yesterday, a friend of mine called me. It was a John, an old buddy from high school. I hadn’t spoken with him for years, and we started to reminisce about all the crap we pulled in high school. A few days later I decided to call him back, and see if we could get together, maybe go fishing or something.

We talked on the phone for a while, and I said to him “Hey, maybe we should get together sometime.” He first said that that was a bad idea, but then he agreed. I asked him for address, copied it down, and told him I’d see him in the morning.

The next morning I arrived at the place he said he lived at. There was nothing but rubble there. It looked like there had been a fire there years ago, but nothing got cleaned up, and the plants never regrew. In the middle of the rubble, I found a old rotary style telephone on the floor, not connected to anything. Hurriedly, I pulled out my cellphone and called his number.

The telephone on the floor rang.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

I dropped my cellphone in shock, and knelt to grab the rotary telephone. A voice, drenched in distortion and hiss, said:

“I told you this was a bad idea.”
>> Anonymous
Niggers are considered people now.
>> ???????????­???
>>71023621
WHAT!? BRICKS WHERE SHAT!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This is not a random post. This is not a coincidence. I put this here because I know that right now you will be reading it. No one can see this post except for you.

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

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

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

I’m waiting.
>> Anonymous
You will die there is nothing you can do to prevent this.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Driving home at night, you notice that all the lights in your house/apartment are on. As you park the car, they all turn off at the same time. The house is empty and the doors are locked from the inside.

You check your watch. The big hand is on the 4, the little hand is on the 1. You’ll be late for work.

At work, you find an email in your inbox. The sender is yourself. Puzzled, you open the e-mail you apparently sent to yourself. Inside is the message “the out for watch watch.”

You look at your watch. The little hand is on the 4, the big hand is on the 1. You look back at the screen. The fourth and first words have swapped places. “watch out for the watch.” You look at your watch again.

Your watch is digital.
>> Anonymous
>>71021825

its eating her from the inside out, get it?
>> Anonymous
ew
>> Anonymous
>>71023621
HOLY CRAP!
/thread!

creepyest shit ever!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
You know when you’re falling asleep, and you suddenly get the feeling that you’ve tripped? You’re body lurches forward in an instant, ready to protect you instinctively from injury. You can almost SEE the ground rising to meet you. This occurs when the boundaries between you and the “you” in an alternate universe are weakest.

This is the feeling that happens when another “you” dies.
>> Anonymous
>>71022520

there is no cow level.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
In a cave, somewhere, is a severed mummified head.
If you remove your own head and replace it with the severed mummified one, you will be imbued with immeasurable arcane power.
>> Anonymous
>>71023621
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
>> Anonymous
>>71024015
didn't get it...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71023255
Your wish, my command, etc. etc.

Item#: SCP-011

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-011 and the area surrounding it are to be cleaned once every day. For safety purposes, cleaning should start at least thirty minutes after sundown. Cleaning should always be performed by at least two personnel, who are also advised to note anything unusual about the item or the debris cleaned up. In a situation where the item cannot be cleaned for more than 2 days, local residents must be contacted and instructed not to approach the item.

[Containment procedures nullified 2004]

Description: SCP-011 is a Civil War memorial statue located in Woodstock, Vermont. The statue is the image of a young male soldier holding a musket at his side, and is carved out of granite quarried within the area. Occasionally, SCP-011 has been observed lifting its musket to the sky to fire at birds which attempt to land or defecate on it. Reports detail that its movements produce soft grinding sounds but do not cause it any structural failure. Oddly, the gunfire is very similar to that of a standard firearm, despite observations that the item only loads granite bullets and granite powder into the musket (which is also unharmed by the firing). In spite of its efforts, some fecal matter does manage to strike SCP-011, and it has reportedly become distressed when it has had a large amount of feces on it, on some rare occasions even firing at humans.

Addendum: Those assigned to maintain SCP-011 are to see document #011-1 for instructions.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
When I was younger, I lived with my father and his mother. I was the only child, a girl at that, and my father was very protective of me. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated me. At first, she would just yell at me and shove me around when dad was at work. It escalated, quickly after he started working longer house to make ends meet. I rarely saw my father at that point. For 4 years, she did things I can’t even bring myself to really think about, not enough to write it. For those 4 years, I prayed and prayed for release. I prayed and wished for her to die. To God, to whoever would listen. My dad probably would have believed me if I’d had a chance to talk to him, but she’d made me feel as though I were an abomination over the years that, I couldn’t bear it anymore. After she killed my kitten and made me bury it, at the age of 13, I attempted suicide by hanging myself inside my closet.

Apparently, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing and the bar in the closet that I tied myself to fell on my head and knocked me the fuck out. I pulled myself up and headed to sneak into the bathroom without the monster cunt to catch me and give me another beating. As I left my bedroom, I caught a whiff of something very fucking rancid, like vomit, burning flesh, and blood, mixed together, warm. I knew all of these smells fairly well, considering what my grandmother did to me, and I thought for a moment it might have been my imagination, or her making something disgusting for me to eat to torture me more. While I recognized the seperate smells in a way, I’d never smelled something like this.
>> Anonymous
>>71024509
Document #011-1: Maintenance Brief

[Document archived 2004 - accessible to personnel with security clearance 2/011 or higher]

Additional Information: SCP-011's seeming sentience has increased since the first report of activity in 1995. As of 2004, the item's containment procedures have been dropped but it remains under constant observation. Recorded below are landmark events in its activity.

Timeline:
3.12.1995 - Woodstock resident reports the statue's eyes moving, first sign of activity
9.30.1995 - Statue shoots musket for the first time
10.9.1995 - Statue begins shooting birds from the sky
1.25.1996 - Registration as SCP-011, containment procedures begin
4.14.1997 - SCP-011 observed moving casually and looking around
5.3.2000 - After caretaker [Data expunged] jokingly shouts "Good shot!" to SCP-011, the item
replies "Thank you." in a reportedly very human voice, first speech from statue
10.22.2001 - SCP-011 has conversation with caretaker [Data expunged]
2001 - Shooting of birds stops
2.6.2002 - At the imploring of [Data expunged], SCP-011 steps down from its pedestal
2003-2004 - SCP-011 reaches a human level of self-awareness
11.10.2004 - Containment procedures dropped, custody of SCP-011 transferred to [Data expunged]
5.17.2005 -[Data expunged] reports that SCP-011 is romantically attracted to her
8.29.2006 - Most recent psych test reports an IQ of 133
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71024617

As I got closer and closer to the stairs overlooking the living room, which was right across from the bathroom, I started to hear something. Faintly, I remember hearing it a few feet back, but suddenly it seemed so much louder. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and all I could hear was gurgle, smack smack, squish squish, RIIIIIIIIIP. The mere idea of peeking over the stairs and into the living room was suddenly so profoundly frightening that I almost just went back into my bedroom, but strangely enough, it was amazingly easy to just do it anyway.

What I saw in the living room will never leave me for as long as I live, in more than one sense.


My grandmother was lying on the ground. There was someone wearing black kneeling over her. They were both covered in blood. The person’s head was moving rhythmically over its hands, which held what I the relized was some organ in her body. The person didn’t look up, and I was scared silent.
>> Anonymous
DAMN IT!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71024785

There was so much blood. So, so much blood.

The sound of gnawing, the smacking mouth, the snapping of her organs at they were ripped from my grandmother’s body (what was left of it), the brutally grotesque sight of her chest cavity having been torn open, of her body being consumed little by little filled me with terror I had never known before. I didn’t know what to do. It ate her body, slowly, seeming to enjoy every bite it took, its body swaying and moving so unnaturally that I couldn’t even think it was human.

I couldn’t stop watching, I couldn’t run away, the sheer terror of it choked the scream I would have let out. It stopped, I stopped. It looked up at me after what seemed an eternity, releasing the contents of its mouth. Gorey pieces and blood, some brown at that point, covered most of its face. What I could see of the face, it seemed to be male, very pale in patches. Where eyes were supposed to be were black pits, pits that seemed to dilate, expand and retract. He had no lips, but his mouth twitched, like some kind of hologram going in and out, slowly smiling, the smile expanding beyond normal human ability. I vomited and fainted.
>> Anonymous
fuck you creepypasta i've got work in 7 hours and now i can't sleep. /bawww
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
so much blood?
>> Anonymous
>>71012560
What the FUCK is that??
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71024964

I woke up, my father was home and worrying over me. My grandmother’s body was gone along with all of the blood. “Where’s grandma? Where is she?” I kept asking him, until I had to stop, from the look in his eyes. He told me her heart was bad, and she was “in heaven now”. I couldn’t believe it. That was impossible, right? Did I imagine that whole thing?

At her funeral, on the way to her burial site, I saw the man again. He looked more human, but I knew it was him. I remembered that smile. That day, I smiled back.

I still have dreams about that man, sometimes I think I see him in public. Even when I don’t see him, I can feel him there. He’s always there, watching me.
>> Anonymous
I was in NYC, I take summer classes at an art school in New York, and I saw a man following an old asian woman and her little asian grand daughter I think it was. He followed them for 4 blocks before making his move, I only saw all of this because they were all infront of me walking down E22nd street at the time I was walking down it. Anyways, the man kept getting closer and closer to them until finally he hit the woman with a crowbar and grabbed the girl. I immediately ran up to him as fast as I could and whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say that this cab was rare, but I thought "nah, forget it, yo holmes to Bel-Air!"

I pulled up to the house around 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie "yo holmes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to settle my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
>> Anonymous
Item#: SCP-497

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: Subject is considered annoying but mostly harmless. Allowed to wander freely throughout the base as long as he makes no attempts to leave.

Description:Appears for all intents and purposes to be a Caucasian British man wearing semi-futuristic clothing with a large H tattooed on his forehead. Subject is believed to be a photon-based life-form and thus in his natural state completely intangible. Energy weapon 47-A is required to hinder him in any way but so far it has proven unnecessary as his crippling need to be the center of attention has been all that was required to keep him on base. If personnel can deal with his need for attention, cowardice, misogyny, and severely inflated ego coupled with deep self-loathing they will find an incredible store of information.

Special Notes: We have no idea what "Smeghead" means but apparently it's an insult of high caliber.
>> Anonymous
that is a ststue of gaia, mother of the earth.
Cockfag...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Coffins used to be built with holes in them, attached to six feet of copper tubing and a bell. The tubing would allow air for victims buried under the mistaken impression they were dead. Harold, the Oakdale gravedigger, upon hearing a bell, went to go see if it was children pretending to be spirits. Sometimes it was also the wind. This time it wasn’t either. A voice from below begged, pleaded to be unburied.

“You Sarah O’Bannon?” Yes! the voice assured.
“You were born on September 17, 1827?”
“Yes!”
“The gravestone here says you died on February 19?”
“No I’m alive, it was a mistake! Dig me up, set me free!”

“Sorry about this, ma’am,” Harold said, stepping on the bell to silence it and plugging up the copper tube with dirt. “But this is August. Whatever you is down there, you ain’t alive no more, and you ain’t comin’ up.”
>> Anonymous
>>71024204
FUCK THATS HAPPENED TO ME
the brick is having a hard time getting the fuck out
>> Anonymous
>>71025534
>>71025534
>>71025534
>>71025534
>>71025534
>>71025534
>>71025534

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Once, there was a boy who loved to read. He read everything he could get his hands on, and loved going to his favorite book store. One day, the boy realized he had read everything the store had to offer. He confronted the owner, and asked him if he had anything the boy had never checked out. The owner said why, yes, I do, and pulled out a book called “Death”. He gladly sold it to the boy at a discounted price of 50$.

However, he warned the boy, never to read the front page. Well, the boy returned to his house and read the book, and he was content. However, he always wondered, what could be on that front page, it was always in the back of his mind. One day, the temptation was too much for the boy, and he flipped to the very front of the book, and dropped the book in HORROR.

There, in bold print, was MSRP 7.99$
>> Anonymous
>>71022698
That just made my day better.
Thank you.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
OP HERE...POSTED IMAGES 1-66 AFTER THE SMARTDOG...HERE'S THE LAST CREEPY ONE.........................


oK so basicaly its like this. youare at a friends house for like the night or watever and then you guys are making out on the couch (yeah!) and then like.. her dad calls on the phone and says “no i she likes it more if you use the other hand… yeah” and your alllike “oh dude your dad is trying to give me advice on how to diddle you” and then she’s like… “i don’t have a dad..” or whatever… but what!? WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
>>71010973
Whoa, that gave me an errection!
>> Anonymous
>>71026202

omg so creepy i can't sleep
>> Anonymous
FCKN ASSHOLE that scared me
>> Anonymous
>>71025906
Ha ha, best CreepyPasta ever.
>> Anonymous
>>71022844
>>71022036
YAY! you win one internet
>> Anonymous
U_U
>> Anonymous
>>71026202

OP HERE LOLOLOL JUST TROLLED ALL OF YOU. YOU THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE A CREEPYPASTA THREAD, BUT IT'S NOT IT'S JUST A TROLL LOLOLOL
>> Anonymous
>>71026202
I WAS PHONE
>> Anonymous
>>71025534
Smoke me a kipper, i'll be back for breakfast!
>> Anonymous
This thread was by far the best creepy thread I have ever seen on /b/. Absolutely stellar from start to finish. Thank you OP, although I will never sleep again.
>> Anonymous
>>71020891
Just one thing for that FALCON PUNCH
>> Anonymous
>>71025534
LOL lister.
>> Anonymous
I did shit bri/x/.

The horror, the horror.
>> Anonymous
>>71027051
*Rimmer
>> Anonymous
I didn't even really want to post all of those...I was going to stop at like 20...but I just couldn't. OMG
>> Anonymous
Item #: SCP-071

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-071 must be kept in cell devoid of direct viewpoints, with access granted only by two separate Level 4 personnel, preferably of different genders. Cell should be remotely monitored via closed circuit camera operating on a 60-second delay. Though no interaction with SCP-071 should be necessary, as it appears to have no need for sustenance, personnel entering SCP-071’s containment area must do so in groups of no less than 4 and containing both male and female personnel. Under no circumstances should personnel be permitted to view SCP-071 directly, nor should they be permitted viewing through undelayed remote footage. All footage and images of SCP-071, once deemed unimportant, must be destroyed.

Description: SCP-071 is presumably a humanoid neuter, though this is at present difficult to confirm. SCP-071 possesses the ability to assume different forms with the apparent intent of enticing onlookers to engage in sexual activity. Thus far it has assumed a myriad array of forms, on the whole consisting of males and females of ages ranging from prepubescent to middle-aged (see Addendum 071-01). It appears unable or unwilling to assume differing appearances without external stimuli, remaining in its last assumed form when left to its own devices.

SCP-071 appears to possess intelligence on par with that of a human and displays complex expression, though it has yet to reveal any linguistic ability. SCP-071 also possesses expanded awareness, responding to viewers even when separated by barriers designed to prevent SCP-071’s knowledge of their observation (such as remote monitors or one-way mirrors). Delaying captured footage seems to prevent this.
>> Anonymous
>>71027108
i do apologise.
>> Anonymous
Class-D personnel allowed to engage in sexual relations with SCP-071 suffered rapid atrophy of muscle, skeletal structure and brain function, with onset occurring 1-2 days after contact. The atrophy persisted for roughly a week, with the stabilized state characterized by decreased stature, decreased organ function, sharply decreased brain mass and, in most cases, sterility. Personnel achieving auto-gratification through use of media containing SCP-071 (whether delayed or not) suffered the same effects.

SCP-071 was initially discovered in [data expunged] in [data expunged]. Efforts to remove footage and photography from the Internet are underway, though—judging by several recent medical cases—some still remain.

Addendum 071-01: Supervisor's log, [data expunged] When presented with class-D subject [data expunged], SCP-071 assumed the shape of a canine. The subject in question reacted with shock and refused to proceed with the experiment, though the subject's physiological signs were consistent with a state of sexual arousal.

Addendum 071-03: Supervisor's log, [data expunged], a castrated class-D subject, when exposed to SCP-071, was ignored by it, and did not even affect its current form of a sheep. [data expunged] was not able to perceive SCP-071 in any way, including tactile, even after the addition of other class-D subjects to the cell. Supervisor suggests tests with further viable class-D personnel involving sterilization when in the presence, during intercourse, and afterwards at various times, to test for a possible method to reduce losses.
>> 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.

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).
>> Anonymous
>>71027612

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").

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.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71027499
>>71027268
IDENTIFIED
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item #: SCP-047

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-047 is contained inside of a tightly bound wooden box. It is to stay inside of the box at all times. Personnel without LEVEL 4 clearance are not permitted to open the box regardless of whether or not they have permission from a LEVEL 4 operative.

At no time should SCP-047 leave Site 45. Any personnel caught attempting to leave with SCP-047 will be immediately terminated.

Description: SCP-047 was discovered in the foundation of the castle in ?????????????, Romania in 18??. At the time of its finding a male arm was found still inside the object and the bodies of 4,327 individuals were excavated around it. Carbon dating has determined some of these bodies ranged from a few days before its finding to the 10th century.

SCP-047 appears to be a simple iron gauntlet. However, chemical analysis has determined that it is a composite of several different materials; the majority of which are metals, glasses and bone. It has become apparent that wood and rubber are the only materials capable of touching SCP-047 without being absorbed.
>> Anonymous
>>71020762
>>71020762
>>71020762FUCK YYOU
my cats do that all the time. they are always looking at something that isnt there
fuck you
>> Anonymous
>>71027717

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.

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."
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
If you travel to the furthest glaciers in the south, it is said you can walk into the canyons of ice there. If you find the junction of two canyons that form a perfect square, you can lie down in the middle there and feel no cold.

If you listen, the ice will speak and what it says will make poor men rich, and sane men mad.
>> Anonymous
>>71025568
gaiafag.
*badumtsssh*
>> Anonymous
>>71027878
Upon coming into contact with humans, SCP-047 will attempt to bond with them through the skin. Tests on Class D subjects have revealed that if allowed to bind itself to a human host, it will begin to affect their mind by causing their body to release large amounts of adrenaline, beta-endorphin and various pain-killing and muscle growing chemicals. This combination of chemicals creates a kind of "assassin's high", that makes the wearer feel an incredible blood-lust. While it is theorized that the user's willpower determines whether or not they will kill; no subject has been able to keep him/herself from killing. SCP-047 is able to change its shape depending on the method of killing the user will find most comfortable. To date, no test subject whom has worn the gauntlet has been unaffected and all have either died or suffered severe brain damage.

SCP-047 is incapable of being removed from its host if they are still alive or capable of moving. Gas squads are recommended in the termination of test subjects, as other methods will cause SCP-047 to defend itself and enrage the user.

Additional: The code name Spear of Chaos was given to the object in 19?? when Class D subject ?????? ???????? killed an attendant by changing SCP-047's shape to one of a spear, stabbed the attendant in his stomach, reached into his chest cavity and removed his heart. Further mention of incidents can be read in Document #157-C.

Since its discovery, SCP-047 has been the determined cause of death for 147 test subjects, 14 attendants, 24 guards, 10 gas squad members, 4,348 civilians and an unknown amount of livestock. As long as SCP-047 remains in its box it appears to be harmless, but it is recommended that the object be contained inside ??????????? to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.
>> Anonymous
._.
>> Anonymous
>>71023888
I don't like this one ]:
>> Anonymous
>>71028075

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.

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
>>71025906
OH MY GOD THE HORROR!
>> Anonymous
FUCKING HELL /B/ SERIOUSLY I CAN HEAR KNOCKING I THINK ITS BEEN HAPPENING A WHILE BUT ITS LOW WHAT THE FUCK HELP /B/ REBGEHWAY45VQF
WITNESS
>> Anonymous
>>71028474

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?

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
>>71028402
no such post. what was it? cp or something?
>> Anonymous
>>71029128

haha genius.
>> Anonymous
>>71028402


me either!!

:[[[[
>> Anonymous
A teenage baby-sitter put the kids she was watching to sleep in their beds and went back downstairs. The late night news was on the TV — the reporter said a psychopath from a local mental institution was on the loose and that police thought he might be in the area. He cautioned residents to lock their doors and windows because this guy was very, very dangerous.

Well, the teenager checked the locks on the windows and the doors, but she forgot the door on the cellar bulkhead. Needless to say, the psychopath broke in about an hour later, coming up from the cellar, armed with an ax. The children heard some noises downstairs, but thought it was the baby-sitter moving some furniture around. Then it got real quiet.

All they heard for the remainder of the night was this noise: “Thump! Thump! Dra-aag… Thump! Thump! Dra-aag…” Scared, the babysitter picked up the phone and called the mother, who naturally got scared, and said 'You're movin with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air!' She whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said 'Fresh', and had dice in the mirror. If anything she could say that this cab was rare, But she thought 'Nah, forget it - Yo, homes to Bel-Air!' She pulled up to the house at about seven or eight and yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes , smell ya later!' She looked at her kingdom, she was finally there, to be murdered by the psychopath as well.
>> Anonymous
>>71024785
>>71024964
OH MY GOD DID SHE DIE?
>> Anonymous
>>71029662
>>71028402
Samefag is hallucinating.

Obviously the samefag, mind you, since no two /b/tards are going to be using that emoticon in the same thread.
>> noko noko
>>71012974

Its just like candlejack.
>> Anonymous
In the night, if you watch closely, you will see a girl. She was 14 when she died, and lived in a town outside of Helsinki, Finland. If you see her, you must shout these words INSTANTLY, or you will suffer an unimaginable death. Some say she flays her victims alive, others say she delves into their minds, and forces them to break every bone in their body, one by one.

Remember, say this as soon as you see her, lest you want to die a most painful death.

"SAANA THE CAT HAS NO FACE"
>> Anonymous
>>71030213
nah, shes fine. spoke to her today. says her kidneys hurt every so often, but thats about it really.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Use this on people you hate. I'm colorblind, so i was unaffected, by my poor brother wasn't.

DO NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE IMAGE- once it's open 'save as'
RIP Alex.
>> Anonymous
>>71030336


no, im the second one
i always use :[
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
This is some kind of trick...

But I'm too scared to call its bluff.
>> Anon
request put in to archive ghost story thread
>> Anonymous
>>71031061
Samefag is samefag. There is no post there, stop trolling.
>> Anonymous
:E Silly!
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
i just stared at it for what felt like five mins.

gonna go stare at some repeated parrot like images next week.
yaay.
>> Anonymous
>>71030634

i lukd
>> Anonymous
>>71031082


dont worry, i looked at it and I'm HNNNNNNNNNNNGGG
>> Anonymous
>>71031082
lol, all its done is made my head turn slightly, and every so often, shiver.

side from that im fine.
>> Anonymous
>>71031277

my eyes just started hurting

bad

blurred vision
>> ARCHIVE THIS SHIT Anonymous
Validating thread id.
This can take a few seconds...
Checking if the thread exists:>>71006794
The thread has been found, continue processing.

Thanks for your request.
It has been added to our database and the thread will be archived as soon as enough request for that thread have been made.
This thread has been requested 1 times now.
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
>>71030634
>>71030634
>>71030634
holy fuck me in the cock /b/
as soon as i looked at this my other fucking comp in the room started playing my saved death metal
its been going on like every hour for a while so nothing supernatural or wierd
just an odd happening that scared the crap out of BBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAARRRRRRRG
no but srsly guise it happened
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
My right eyelid keeps twitching...

What the fuck did you do to me?!?
>> Anonymous
>>71031504
NICE

imma saving it.

and getting stoned next week.

then we will see who gets the biggest mind fuck.
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
WAT?
>> ARCHIVE THIS SHIT Anonymous
Do it.
>> Anon
>>71012385

dont get it. someone explain it to an idiotfag?
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
>> Anonymous
>>71033101
He originally forgets who he is, then uses the first wish to remember. He's so horrified that he uses the second wish to forget all about his life. Having forgotten the reason for making his second wish, he wishes to remember his life again...
>> Anonymous
kinda bumb for great justice
>> Anon
>>71033752

my most humble thanks anon
>> Anonymous
>>71033584
Thats what Alex said.
RIP Alex
>> Anonymous
>>71030634

My blood pressure raised significantly after looking...

Phscological or real?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
This one isn't a creepypasta, I just want to type it as one because it has potential, this is one my friend told me, she knows the mother of the girl this happened to.

A girl was babysitting for a married couple who were going on an anniversary dinner. The mother of the child was worried because the child was only about 6 months old or something and she didn't know if this teenage girl would be able to handle it.The teenager said she had experience though and that everything would be fine, she had their contact number if she needed them.

So after the parents had gone, she put the baby to bed in its crib and went downstairs to watch TV. After a short while she heard the baby cry, it was quite a large house and so the staircase was pretty large too. So she went upstairs into the room and picked up the baby, bringing it downstairs for a bottle. After she fed the baby she put it back in the crib and again and went downstairs, the same happened and she had to make several trips back and forth, calming the baby down but every time she went out of the room, the baby would cry shortly after.

She decided to ring the parents as last resort.
"Hi, sorry to interrupt your meal but I don't know what to do."
"It's fine. What's happened? Is the baby ok?"
"Well yeah but every time I leave the room the baby starts crying."
"I don't know, she doesn't usually do that. Have you fed her?"
"Yeah, twice. Although, to be honest, I'd cry too if that clown was in the room with me." She said this jokingly.

"...What clown?"
>> Anonymous
>>71033956
Placebo effect
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71034197
Continued...

The girl froze stiff, her eyes watered and she gazed at the stairway. She finished her conversation with the mother and made her way upstairs, acting as normal as she could in this state. "Hey, what's the matter with you now?" She said to the baby. She picked up the baby and walked out, all this time the clown was in her peripheral vision but she daren't look directly at it.

She got downstairs and away from the room as quickly as she possibly could. She rang the police and soon they arrested the man.

A paedophile had somehow known the layout of the house (suggesting that he'd been in the house before) and known that the parents would not be present tonight. He dressed as a clown and sat himself on an old chair in the childs bedroom, disguising himself as a doll. God knows what he was doing to the baby when the girl left the room.

That always creeps me out, knowing that it's actually true. The weirdos that are actually out there is pretty horrifying to think about.
>> Anonymous
>>71034478
By the way, I actually typed that out then, took me fucking ages. D;
>> Anonymous
You bastard...
>> god anonymous
I just died. my soul did too. ow.
>> ????????? ????????????
>>71006794

??????This just blew my mind. I shat bricks.
>> Anonymous
>>71034290

Thought so. Looks like I'm gonna have to get some extra strength sugar pills to cure this...
>> ??????????????????????????Anonymous???????????
sinep
>> Anonymous
>>71034197

WHY IS NO ONE SUMMIN UP THE END- THAT THERE IS A CRAY FUCKING CHILD MOLESTING MIDGET DRESSING LIKE A CROW IN PEOPLE'S HOUSES?


A 6 FOOT TALL ONE WOULD BE TOO FUCKING OBVIOUS AS A PERSON, BUT SINCE MIDGETS AREN'T HUMAN, IT WOULD BE MISSABLE.


THERE IS ANOTHER PART TOO, WHERE THE DAD IS LIKE "SHIT- THAT MIDGET BASTARD IS BCK AGAIN? THATS MY BROTHER, HE LIKES BABY VAGOO"
RIP ALEX.
>> Anonymous
A recent study by the National Psychiatric Institute in Boston, MA, concluded that no activity can account for the phenomenon known as nightmares. Whereas many dreams come from unconscious desires, most nightmares seem to come from an outside source independent of the individual. In fact, when subjects are asked to recall nightmares they are almost always found in the same memory section as actual physical memories, not the section where normal dreams are replayed. In other words, those aliens and creatures you see at night in your "dreams?" They're real.
>> Anonymous
>>71030336
Actually I did the first one, with the ]: I think the second guy was taking the piss out of me by going :[[[[ or w/e
>> Anonymous
>>71034859

O Rly?

Looks like I'm screwed then. :(
>> Anonymous
>>71034849
Not a midget, she thought it was a life-sized doll thing.
>> Anon
archive this shit guys
>> Anonymous
Some of these are kinda dumb.

Post more funny ones, like the one in the first post, or the train station one.
>> Anonymous
>>71035782
I don't know how, I'm at 4chanarchive.org, now what?
>> Anonymous
>>71023888

Just checking if someone else read this post...I'm scared shitless...
>> Anonymous
In 1997, a chicago couple decided they needed a break, so they headed out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted
babysitter, who arrived when the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure
everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs
because they did not have cable downstairs. So, she called the parents and asked them if she could watch cable in their bedroom. Of course, the
parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the statue of the escaped mass murderer in
their bedroom with a blanket or cloth, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking
to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have a statue of an
escaped mass murderer...."

That night, the children and the babysitter were murdered by a murderer. It turns out that the statue of the escaped mass murderer was
actually a murderer that had escaped from jail earlier that evening.
>> Anonymous
>>71036200
Request interface
thread ID: 71006794
Don't forget the captcha
>> Anonymous
>>71036390

what's so scary about it?
>> Anonymous
>>71036390
No post exists. Aw, who reported the CP? I wanted to see it.
>> Anonymous
>>71036390
why don't you have a seat over there?

mods=gods
>> Anonymous
>>71036390
CP? Gone now if it was ever here..
>> Anonymous
The following story is not terribly creepy when considered ion the context of most horror stories: as a means to prove entertainment via works of fiction. However, the freaky part of the story is how true it really is. The sister of my friend James, Caitlin, was a photography student who lived in Maine. I knew her pretty well, as I was close friends with James and would frequent their house. Caitlin, two years ago, went out a camping trip out in Canada to take wildlife pictures. She drove out with her tent and food supplies already in her backpack, and went off Northwest. She found a very small town in Ontario and parked the car there, and go out and started hilking. She walked away from the town for the entire day. She walked about 40 miles into the wilderness, where there were no signs of man. there were no roads, no paths, no cans, no signs, no markers, no nothing. ONly 10 miles in the last 30 were completly void of all humanity. She found a relatively comfortable patch of grass and set up her tent, and stayed there for 3 nights taking pictures of the woods and woodland creatures. After those three days she returned to the small town and got in her car and drove back to her house in Maine. We she developed her pictures she found very odd pictrues, there were of course many that she had taken, but on every roll of film (she took about 10 rolls) there were about three or four pictures of her, sleeping, they were taken at different angles, in all different poistions, just sleeping. There was no one who lived out there. If someone cared enough to follow her, it wouldd have been a lot of work. We don't know who took those pictures, and never will. After that trip, Caitlin has been slightly messed up. She's been in the Psychiatric ward twice in the past two years and is on anti-psychotics. I have seen the pictures though, she is not making it up. (Side not James and I have grown apart too, I rarely see him anymore.
>> Anonymous
3 requests to archive now, make more requests
>> Anonymous
>the children and the babysitter were murdered by a murderer

HOLY SHIT, REALLY? I THOUGHT THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED BY A DOCTOR
>> Anonymous
>>71036723
I'm getting this problem too, when I click it it says post not found. Do you use XP? Maybe only people on Vista can see it or something.
Or maybe it's because I'm on Mozilla?
>> Anonymous
>>71036723
pedofag
>> Anonymous
WITNESS is now a meme.
>> Anonymous
>>71036959
getting same problem on both my vista pc and osx, both using firefox
>> Anonymous
>>71037214

nigger needs a 4chan gold account
I have it, and I'm seeing some delicious flat chest
>> Anonymous
>>71037009

Retard.
>> Anonymous
>>71034478
Holy shit. I heard this story from someone I knew too. I don't remember who that well but I fucking remember hearing this. I might know you...
>> Anonymous
>>71036461
>>71036461
>>71036461

worst creepy pasta ever
>> Anonymous
>>71037648

Least intellegent fag ever.
>> Anonymous
>>71036390

404 not found?
>> Anonymous
>>71036461
SARCASM, I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE!
>> Anonymous
>>71037214
Must've linked to post wrong or something. Nobody seems to be able to see it apart from him.
>> Anonymous !LBDgV5dbiM
Fuck you, bitch, fuck you.
>> Anonymous
>>71030634
>>71030634

hmmm no effect on me. what is it? boo. i was hoping for something cool.
>> Anonymous
>>71036461

Good gravy that was fucking hilarious.
>> Anonymous
>>71036461
oh lawd i lol'd so hard
>> ARCHIVE THIS SHIT ARCHIVE THIS SHIT
ARCHIVE THIS SHIT
>> Anonymous
>>71030634

i don't see it either :(

what gives?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
BUBUMP BUBUMP
>> Anonymous
>>71038200
OH GOD OH DEAR GOD
>> noko Anonymous
>>71039513
quit whining newfag, it was probably just cp
>> Anonymous
>>71039004
2008-06-03 15:04:13 71006794 /b/ 5

COME ON /b/ JUST 3 MORE REQUESTS
>> anon
fuck you guys , i never sleep when i read these threads
>> Anonymous
>>71039838
Not if I can help it!
2 moar to go!
>> Anonymous
>>71039838
Not if I can help it!
2 moar to go!
>> ARCHIVE THIS SHIT Anonymous
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>> Anonymous
>>71039838
Not if I can help it!
2 moar to go!
>> ARCHIVE THIS SHIT Anonymous
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>>71039838
>> Anonymous
bump for great justice
>> Anonymous
ARCHIVE
>> Anonymous
I'm a Republican who wants us withdrawn from the war in Iraq and wants Universal healthcare. I'd be willing to vote for a Ddemocrat to get that. To bad you chose the most unelectable possible choice. The majority of us Republicans are so disenfranchised with the mockery Bush has made of Fiscal Conservativism after inheriting Clinton's surplus we would have GLADLY handed you the Presidency. But you had to go and make a show of it by selecting the most far left guy you could possibly find, someone who couldn't get a swing vote if he pulled it from his ass. Someone who only voted against his party lines twice (one of which was to renew the Patriot Act AFTER decrying it, The other to vote against the born alive infant protection act in Illinois)

You could have had a GREAT presidency Democrats. It's to bad you are so full of yourself you have to slap the word Progressive on horrible candidates and rally behind him like he is the second coming of JFK.
>> Anonymous
ARCHIVE
>> Anonymous
Start posting the Dionaea House.
That's some good creepy stuff.
>> Anonymous
Start posting the Dionaea House.
That's some good creepy stuff.
>> Anonymous
ARCHIVE
>> Anonymous
>bump for great justice
>> Anonymous
archive chit
>> Anonymous
PENIS