File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Do you ever wonder how scary death is? Think about it; it’s the one thing that we truly know absolutely nothing about. Some people may cite religious beliefs of an afterlife and others might claim they just focus on life, but it's really something that is totally and utterly foreign to us. And what if the religious people are wrong? What if death really is nonexistence... that it’s simply over once the brain dies? Terrifying, huh? Of course, the reasoning goes that you won't notice it, since you won't exist.

But... Let's say a certain someone could expose you to nonexistence. Let's say this person could actually let you experience the state of not existing and more importantly, let you remember it. He'd probably be able to get you to agree to anything in order to avoid that fate. Tangentially, for certain people near death, their brain activity sometimes ceases completely for about three seconds and then returns, only to shortly die in a more conventional fashion.

As another aside, many hospital orderlies have noticed a man wearing a suit that they have never seen in any catalog or on any person before. Interestingly enough, when you ask them about the suit they will struggle for a moment, then reply that it’s hard to describe, but they are sure they haven’t seen it before. Ask them about the man however, and they will freeze up, spasm violently and reply, "What man?"
>> Anonymous
There is an old hotel that has been around for hundreds of years. If anyone was to find themselves staying in Room 6 you would find yourself in an unknown place, where exactly at 12:16 AM the power will go out and you'll find yourself in utter darkness. If you chose to stay awake nothing will happen. But if you so much as close your eyes and fall asleep you will find yourself in an unimaginable pit of despair, where creatures of fathomless shapes and sizes roam. You will be trapped here for hours, until the sun comes up. It is rumored that this room is a gate into hell, and demons use the condensed evil of the room to escape into our reality through our minds. Those who have stayed in there rarely speak of it, for even recalling the night will put them in an uncontrollable frenzy
>> fucker
FUCK IT~!
>> keepin it live keepin it live
keepin it live
>> keepin it live
The Hitchhikers

There are stories about a certain kind of hitchhiker - they only ever appear at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in the very edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always with an expression of deep despondency on their faces, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants, usually with gloves. If you stop, they will seem cordial enough, polite, but hardly chatty. They will assure you that the next town or city along your route will be a fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you try killing them.

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

Once you possess a hitchhiker's object, you'll find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You'll never mean to, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing a second one will hum quietly in your head. You'll strain to catch sight of a figure appearing in your headlights, try to resist the impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you won't. You'll try telling yourself that this is just a normal person on an adventure, someone who ran out of petrol. The logical part of your brain will scream at what you're doing. You'll smile and nod and they'll get into the car and you'll slowly, casually, reach under the seat or across to the glove box..
>> Anonymous
>>71742045

I don't know why, but..

..what the fuck..
>> Anonymous
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.

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
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
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
Do you think about not being alive anymore and wonder if spending time on 4chan is worth it?
>> Anonymous
inb4 who was phone
>> Anonymous
Time on 4chan is time well spent.
>> Anonymous
Decent thread is pleasantly decent, bump.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were demons in the base. He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad "I want to be on the ships daddy."
Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY DEMONS"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were demons.
"This is Joson" the radio crackered. "You must fight the demons!"
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the demons
"I will shoot at him" said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the demons" he shouted
The radio said "No, John. You are the demons"
>> Anonymous
>>71743746
havent seen that one before
>> Anonymous
MOAR
>> Anonymous
think about this


i was doing research and found that in the year 1 to the 50th power, the universe will expand and every living organism in the world will die of a heat death. in other words the universe will expand so much ithere is no heat available. PERIOD. and it will recollapse.

think about this though, what if everything that has happened in the universe, the big bang or whatever, what if its all happened before?

like sometime before us, everything that has happened already happened before that.

so the year 1 to the 50th power already happened, and when it happens again time will literally restart itself, and so on and so forth

the universe is the most mind bending concept anyone has come up with.

if any of this doesnt make sense look up the 11th millenium on wikipedia.org
>> Anonymous
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 symbolize 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, raised her arm, and said, “Something like this?”
>> Anonymous
>>71742045

i'd rather non existance to something that lasted for an eternity
>> Anonymous
>>71743861
Same here, Original Content? on my /b/?
>> Anonymous
OP here
i've posted pretty much al the stories.
come on /b/ scare me
>> Anonymous
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye.

What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."
>> Anonymous
>>71743850
Jesus Christ, I'm not sleeping for the next week.
>> 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
MOAR
>> Anonymous
>>71743746
not original content, my fellow newfags
>> Anonymous
moar plox
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
>>71745033
You're on /b/, alone, when suddenly you decide to read a creepythread. Then, COPYPASTA ATTACKS.
>> Anonymous
MOAR
>> Anonymous
hey you guys posting MOAR why dont you actually post more creepy.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> 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.
>> Anonymous
god damnit /b/ i was in the mood for some creepy pasta.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
i would rather not exist than exist forever. i think it would be too incomprehensible to be conscious indefinitely. without landmarks to look forward to, there would be no point in being conscious for any period of time. the reason we have a will to live is because we do not live infinitely, and life is filled with landmarks, no matter how insignificant. they are still landmarks, and they are something to look forward to.
>> Anonymous
Man, people are posting that story so many times that it has gotten so old as to if that actually happened, I wouldn't even be scared.
>> Anonymous
>>71744143
technically if thats true, traveling to the past is possible. All you'd need to do is be cryogenically frozen for trillions of years and you be in the past.
>> Anonymous
>>71744143

1^50 is 1 you dumb cunt.
>> Anonymous
We know exactly what non-existence is like, we've all experienced it for about 13 billion years. There's no reason to think that life, once formed, experiences anything else after death.

Now as far as what happens at the very moment of death, no, we don't know, but a lot would depend on how you died. If you died in your sleep, you wouldn't even realize it. If you died from a heart attack, your last moments would be painful.
>> Anonymous
>>71746532
1 x 10^50, fuckwit.
>> deleted
does anyone have the story about the french cafe and the 13 paintings?

much appreciated
>> Anonymous
>>71746336
go to:
http://zip.4chan.org/x/imgboard.html
http://www.creepypasta.com

also,
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.
>> Anonymous
>>71746887
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
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
>>71746881

1*10^50 is redundant. It's the same as 10^50, which is NOT ONE TO THE FIFTIETH POWER.

Fuckwit.
>> Anonymous
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
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.
>> Anonymous
http://www.johndiesattheend.com/
got this from /x/
for the love of god read it
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>71742045

Yes, I know this is creepypasta.

However, it's wrong. I've been (technically) dead and trust me, oblivion would be preferable to what I experienced.
>> Anonymous
So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the voice is "wut r u doin wit my daughter?" U tell ur girl n she say "my dad is ded".
THEN WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
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.

iz now a meme
>> Anonymous
>>71744143
the thought of that scares the shit out of me. i dont know why.

Another thing that freaks me right the fuck out is thinking, what if none of this is real, what if my entire life is just my imagination? Everyone i've ever loved or known isn't real. They never were and never will be. What if I'm just sitting alone, in an all white room, talking to myself?
>> Anonymous
>>71744502

GOOD FUCKING GOD
>> Anonymous
>>71746807

That's the theory I hold to, sort of, it's a comforting one I suppose, but the only part I'm unsure of is what if your conscience is created only at the time of your birth? In that case you'd still have no the past but you could still be in for some sort of existence after your body dies, I personally don't hold with that but after doing lots of dissociatives and experiencing the near-death thing it would be cool if your conscience did exist on that kind of level, joining up with all the other deadies to form a collective?
>> Anonymous
You're at work alone, when you suddenly hear the fax machine start up. You walk out to take a look at what's going on and see several faxes filling the tray. Picking up one of the pieces of paper you discover that it is 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. You think "There is no one in the office with me THEN WHO WAS FAX?"
>> Anonymous
I WAS CHILLIN IN THE KITCHEN, MAKING A SANDWICH WHEN ALL OF THE SUDDEN I HEARD TREMENDOUS NOISE COMING DOWN THE STAIRS. MY DAD FELL DOWN THE WHOLE FLIGHT AND WHEN HE FINALLY REACHED THE FLOOR HE TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND EXCLAIMED "AWW BALLS!" I LOL'D HARD AND ASKED "HEY DAD, HAVE A NICE TRIP?" TRYING TO HIDE MY LOL.


HE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME.


I MEAN HE SERIOUSLY BEAT THE FUCKING SHIT OUT OF ME.

WITHIN AN INCH OF MY LIFE.

I'M STILL COVERED IN BLOOD AND SHAKING VIOLENTLY. THE DOOR'S LOCKED BUT...OH MY FUCKING GOD.


OH


MY


FUCKING


GOD


HE FELL DOWN THE STAIRS THOUGH LOL
>> Anonymous
>>71747160
1 to the fiftieth power of what?
>> Anonymous
>>71744143

Yeah, the big bang being just a rebound from the last big crunch?
>> Anonymous
>>71747410
momfag
>> Anonymous
When you are dead, you are dead. Seriously, what the fuck will you care.
>> Anonymous
>>71747840

What? "^" denotes "to the power of".
>> Anonymous
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.

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
>>71747160
Like fucking shit it isn't. 1 followed by fifty zeros is 1^50 you fucking douchenozzle.
>> Anonymous
“Daddy, I had a bad dream.” You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it’s 3:23.

“Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?”

“No, Daddy.”

The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter’s pale form in the darkness of your room.

“Why not sweetie?”

“Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up.” For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can’t take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
>> Anonymous
>>71744143
that's because many people divided by zero in the old universes. stop doing it or we are fried !
>> Anonymous
>>71748530

You better be a troll. Get out a calculator. 1 times itself 50 times is still 1 you dumb shit.
>> Anonymous
>>71747798

lollolol
>> Anonymous
How can you remember not existing? Do you remember what it was like before you were born? That's what death is like.


Do you ever think as a hearse goes by,
that you may be the next to die?
They wrap you up in a big white sheet
From your head down to your feet.

They put you in a big black box,
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.
All goes well for about a week,
Then your coffin begins to leak.

The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout.
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,
They eat the jelly between your toes.

A big green worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.

You spread it on a slice of bread,
And that's what you eat when you are dead.
>> Anonymous
>>71748735
AND I'M TELLING YOU IT FUCKING ISN'T.

1X10^50 IS 1 FOLLOWED BY FIFTY GOD DAMEND ZEROS, RIGHT?

SO HOW IS 1^50 NOT FUCKING THE SAME FUCKING GOD DAMNED THING?
>> Anonymous
>>71747798
Why the hell can't I stop laughing after reading that!
>> Anonymous
>>71742045
G-man?
>> Anonymous
>>71748911

BECAUSE 10^50 IS NOT 1^50. JESUS CHRIST.
>> Anonymous
>>71748911

1X10^50 is 1^51, that's why
>> Anonymous
>>71747798
This could never become as great as the first time it was posted.
>> Anonymous
>>71749045
Jesus FUCKING CHRIST.

PUNCH THIS INTO YOUR CALCULATOR AND THEN PUNCH IT INTO YOUR THICK GOD FUCKING DAMNED SKULL.

1 STOP. TIMES. STOP. TEN TO THE FIFTYTH POWER STOP. EQUALS.

NOW KINDLY POUND A BLOCK OF SALT UP YOUR ASS AND STOP BITCHING.
>> Anonymous
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.
>> Anonymous
>>71749230

NO. JESUS DICKSUCKING CHRIST. 1^ANYTHING IS STILL 1.

>>71749045

HERE.
>> Anonymous
>>71747585
you know... because everyone's identity on here is anonymous, you will never truly meet any of us, you may as well be talking to yourself, in that white bedroom of yours.
>> Anonymous
Many classic horror icons, such as Geger’s Xenomorphs, Silent Hill’s Pyramid Head, and other disturbing creatures, share common characteristics. Pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, elongated faces, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire horror and revulsion in many, and with good reason. The characteristics shared by these faces are imprinted in the human mind.

Many things frighten humans instinctively. The fear is natural, and does not need to be reinforced in order to terrify. The fears are species-wide, stemming from dark times in the past when lightning could mean the burning of your tree home, thunder could be the approaching gallops of a stampede, predators could hide in darkness, and heights could make poor footing lethal.

The question you have to ask yourself is this:

What happened, deep in the hidden eras before history began, that could effect the entire human race so evenly as to give the entire species a deep, instinctual, and lasting fear of pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces?

… Just be careful out there.
>> Anonymous
>>71749422

HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT 1*10^50 IS NOT EQUAL TO 1^50, IT IS EQUAL TO 10^50. YOU CAN MULTIPLY 1 BY ITSELF AS MANY FUCKING TIMES AS YOU LIKE BUT IT WILL ALWAYS EQUAL 1. IF YOU MULTIPLY 10 BY ITSELF IT INCREASES EXPONENTIALLY.

GRADE SIX FUCKING MATH HERE PEOPLE.
>> Anonymous
>>71749467

but he is talking to ourselves, aren't you?
>> Anonymous
Chief Scientist’s Log 12/7/2007 12:31 AM

A new find was brought into the lab today. Men working the demolition of a condemned warehouse at this facility discovered a rusty oil barrel that seemed to exude cold. Preliminary electromagnetic field readings yielded chaotic data before the equipment died. Barrel appears to be constructed of stainless steel and, again, radiates cold.
>> Anonymous
Is OP stupid?

First of all, you don't stop existing once you die, faggot. Dead people still exist, cemeteries are full of 'em.

Second, being dead is like being asleep. A lack of consciousness. Said man from from hypothetical situation would be...putting you to sleep and waking you back up. Oooo, scary.

Your thoughts aren't deep, OP, they're worthless.
>> Anonymous
>>71750042
13/7/2007 9:00 PM

We opened the barrel today inside a sealed chamber. Chamber immediately frosted over. Unidentified entity found within the barrel. Appears to be gaseous and black. Indeed, the very light surrounding it appears to be “sucked in” by it’s presence. Appears to be sentient, but does not communicate in any understood way. Biological matter that comes into contact with the Entity seems to disintegrate.
>> Anonymous
>>71749776

>pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces

White people terrify me
>> Anonymous
>>71750042

You mean it absorbs an infinite amount of heat energy over time.
>> Anonymous
>>71749797
GOD DAMMIT FUCKING FUCKWORTH OF FUCKING GOD DAMNED ALMIGHTY

This is EXACTLY why my mom got scared
And said youre moving with your aunte and uncle in bel-air

(only the first three episodes of season one)

I begged and pleaded with her the other day
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way
She gave me a kissin and she gave me my ticket
I put my walkman on and said I might aswell kick it

First class, yo this is bad,
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass
Is this what the people of bel-air livin like,
Hmm this might be alright!

I whistled for a cab and when it came near the
Licensplate said fresh and had a dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought now forget it, yo home to bel-air

I pulled up to a house about seven or eight
And I yelled to the cabby yo, home smell you later
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To settle my throne as the prince of bel-air.

Thank you, you've been wonderful.
>> Anonymous
>>71750193
14/7/2007 10:11 AM

An intern entered the sealed chamber alone today, without his hazard suit. He was not seen again. The Entity has double in size since being released from containment. Has become aggressive. We are sealing off the chamber immediately in light of it’s flesh-consuming properties and rapid growth. All research is halted.
>> Anonymous
>>71750337
LAST ONE /b/!
14/7/2007 11:00 AM

It’s gone. God help us, it’s escaped.
>> Anonymous
POST SOME MOTHER FUCKING SCP
(i wrote this one)


Item #: SCP-619

Object Class: Safe/Keter

Special Containment Procedures:
Item SCP-619 is currently housed in storage locker 15-a-2 at SCP Processing Facility
21, 160 miles from Reykjavik, Iceland.

Description: Item SCP-619 is a pair of faded Levi brand stonewashed jeans
manufactured in 1994 with several stains and tears through apparent use. SCP-619
will have in its right pocket $3.16 no matter how many times the pocket is emptied.
The currency appears in the form of 2 one US dollar bills, 4 US quarters, 1 us dime,
nickle, and penny. Once the currency is removed from the pocket of SCP-619, it will
somehow propigate the exact amount again. Tracing of the serial numbers of any US
dollars created by SCP-619 has determined that they are authentic and should be in
general circulation. Coins produced by SCP-619 are typically minted between the
years 1971-2015. Objects places into SCP-619 are not effected. Placing currency
that is not in the form of US currency into SCP-619 will result in the currency
propigated by SCP-619 to be $3.16 + US equaivilant of foreign funds given at the
exchange rate in 1994.
Currencies that were not yet created by 1994 will not be effected.

Item was moved from Site 19 to PF-21 ¦¦/¦¦/2003, to prevent SCP personelle
from using the by-product of SCP-619 for personal gain. See Document SCP-619-A

Document SCP-619-A: Memorandom from General ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦, Doug, I have
here another report from one of the service technitions who found another 2010
quarter in the change compartment of the venting machines on level 4. This is the
3rd incident reguarding missuse of a SCP object and i expect you to discipline anyone
in that sector who has access to SCP-619. If there is another incident of this nature
i will be forced to take steps to ensure that it doesnt happen again.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
this one scared the shit out of me
>> Anonymous
It was her eyes that first attracted me to her. I didn’t believe in love, but the
first time I gazed into her beautiful green eyes I knew she was the one.

I loved seeing myself reflected in those eyes, looking deep into her soul and
knowing I was a part of it. It’s kinda stupid, but I even wrote poetry about them. I
don’t remember much, but I told her “There’s so much life within your eyes, and so
much love”.

Oh God, I loved the way the light danced within them. I just couldn’t imagine not
being able to stare dreamily into them.

Now if I could just find a box that was half as beautiful as her eyes, I could stop
carrying them round in my pocket.
>> Anonymous
>>71751646
Fail
>> Anonymous
>>71751646
>>71751646
>>71751646
>>71751646
Real fucking scary.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
Yea, life is short. Believe in and accept Jesus or you will burn in eternal fire.
>> Anonymous
>>71750142
consider an absolutely dreamless sleep, you don't think, you don't feel. everything about you that cannot be touched; your mind, you emotions, your personality, your memories, that process occuring right now as you ridicule this very argument... GONE. all that is left are ashes, you are now an inanimate lump of flesh consumed by the maggots beneath 6 feet of your ancestors.
>> Anonymous
>>71751646
I was tricked by that one before...I couldn't stop shaking
>> Anonymous
>>71752049
lulwat?
>> Anonymous
Creepypasta? Good, I didn't feel like sleeping
>> Anonymous
>>71752049
Leave the world of mortals to walk into the mist to stalk unto the other side
Plains of otherness
The utter emptiness
Where time have ceased and dark and light collide
Crossing the river of death and water cold
Slowly walking up the bridge
The jewelled bridge I walk for what seems a lifetime
In the night it's jewels glow
There on the other side
On shore of no return
The one for me awaits
Cannot avoid the eyes
In which the fire burns
Comed this far it is too late

And He calls my name
First a whispering then louder
And he wants me to follow
And to Enter the Eternal Fire......

I walk this endless night
His eyes the only light
Repeatedly he whispers my name
Fingers move and twist
Through crimson thick dark mist and voices cry of agony and pain
Close now to his kingdom
The bleak world dark and still
I follow the voice whispering my name
Approach the gate of sin
Opened up to let me in and there, He stand in flames
The price now I must pay for eternity my soul his claim
For years of pleasures, victory and gold
The one who stand in flames
Now rise and walk my way and reach out for my soul

And He calls my name
First a whispering then louder
And he wants me to follow
And to fall down. The Eternal Fire......

I stand at the jaws of the pit
The heat scorch my flesh
The fall seem never to end
My hair burn
My eyes can't see
The flames slowly eat my soul
The pain tears my mind
Hear my cries oh Lord
Have mercy oh Lord
This can't be
Raging flames all over me
Inferno of heat
>> Anonymous
>>71751646
Can't read?
>> Anonymous
>>71752236

yeah, but he fucked up and saved the thumb instead of the gif
>> Anonymous
>>71752727
in b4 QUORTHON QUORTHON QUORTHON
>> Anonymous
contribute please
>> Anonymous
>>71742045
It's one times itself 50 times, dumbfuck.