File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
ITT: Creepypasta
>> Anonymous
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
     File :-(, x)
Leon Czolgosz, assassin of William McKinley, the 25th President of the United States, was electrocuted for his crime on October 29, 1901, at Auburn Prison in Auburn, New York. Among the personal effects found in his cell was a U.S. quarter stamped with the date 2218. The face in profile on said quarter was not George Washington, but rather a face which has yet to be identified.
>> Anonymous
WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
Omg, greepy.. more!
>> Anonymous
>>72053067
lies
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72052820
a true story, believe it or not.

i read it in a history book.
>> Anonymous
MORE CREEPY PASTA, NAO!
>> Anonymous
o que é creepypasta????
>> Anonymous
it's nice but then...

who was phone?
>> Anonymous
>>72053067
lie

>>72052820
awesome
>> Anonymous
phone who was?
>> Anonymous
who was phone?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
But then WHO WAS PHONE??
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
but WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
¿quien fué teléfono?
>> Anonymous
>>72053336
>>72054119
>>72054695
STOP AND LET THE CREEPYPASTA CONTINUE.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
WHERE WAS THE GIRLS DAD???
>> Anonymous
cool stuff
>> Anonymous
>>72052820

this is from horrible historys!!!!!
>> Anonymous
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.

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

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

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

Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
>> Anonymous
A recent study by the National Psychiatric Institute of Boston concluded that no activity can account for the phenomenon known as nightmares. Whereas many dreams come from conscious 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 creatures you see at night in your “dreams?”...
They’re real.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse smoldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. If you were to put these frames together in chronological order of the release of the film it comes from, a short film is revealed. The film depicts the corpse’s violent death in reverse.
The final frame will be a picture of yourself sitting before your TV, viewing the final frame of the film.
>> 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
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
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 time span. 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
You just moved into your new apartment, in a very big city. After a year of this life, you have almost given up hope of making any friends; be it at work or any other means. You feel very lonely. After looking for a peaceful place to spend your time, you find a quiet diner on the outskirts of town. The waitress is very attractive. Also, she seems to be the only employee there, ever. You never see anyone else eat there either, ever. The place is perfect for you.

Making love to her becomes a routine. You go there every night for dinner, and then to see her.

You eventually make other friends, and eat at the diner less and less. After some time you stop going completely.
At a bar with your best friend, you tell him about the fun you had with the waitress at the diner. He says he absolutely must see her. You take him there one night, but the building is in a state of ruin. The front door barely opens. The grimy insides of the diner are disgusting, and, behind the counter, is moldy corpse, reeking of pus and rot.

When the police come to the scene, they interview both you and your friend. You are shocked to hear that the body is of a runaway girl from another province. The police tell you this is a homicide, and that she was also raped dozens of times, after she was killed. The police say they can get a match for DNA and eliminate you as a suspect. You are suddenly very worried.
>> Anonymous
STILL DELIVERING LIKE NO TOMORROW


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
STILL DELIVERING LIKE NO TODAY

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
STILL DELIVERING LIKE NO CANCER

Your cell phone rings, and it’s a number you don't recognize. You shrug, and answer anyway.

You-Hello?
Caller-May I have five minutes of your life?
You-Sure…

The caller hangs up.
>> Anonymous
>>72057153
confusing story is confusing.
>> Anonymous
STILL DELIVERING LIKE UPS UP IN THIS MOTHER


A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out, all he saw was red.

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

You're in bed, feeling chilled despite being under the covers. You hear something tap against glass. You look out your window from your pillow, but see nothing. You try to sleep, but are bothered by the sound of something scratching against glass. You look at your window, and see nothing. You're really unnerved now, and you hear the scratching noise again, this time a high pitched screech of something against glass. You hide yourself under your covers, trying to ignore it.

You wake up in the morning, feeling mostly refreshed. You almost forget about the strange noise last night. You look at your window with daylight now, and see nothing unusual.

But in the mirror in your room, the word "Hello" is scratched into the surface.
>> Anonymous
Don't turn around.

It does not like to be seen.
>> Anonymous
DELIVERING ANON CONTINUES TO DELIVER


You come into possession of an old box. Inside are several glass vials filled with dirt, dust
and tiny bits of gravel or cement. The vials are labeled with places and dates such as "Port
Chicago 7/17/1944", "Halifax 7/6/17" and "Guernica 7/17/36". A trip to the library confirms that all are dates of massive loss of life in explosions. A few days later a package arrives with no return address.

Inside is an empty vial labeled with your home town and next week's date.
>> Anonymous
PACKAGE4U


"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. Then, the covers shift behind you.
>> Anonymous
MOAR DELIVERIES


When you live in a bright place, you get used to light, and it starts affecting you less.
When you live in a dark place, you get used to dark, and it starts affecting you less.
When you live in a violent place, you get used to violence, and it starts affecting you less.
And when you skydive enough, you get used to gravity, and it starts affecting you less.
This is nowhere near as pleasant as it sounds.
>> Anonymous
>>72058079

Oh shi-
>> Anonymous
>>72058079
FUCK YOU ANON
>> Anonymous
>>72056727

i shat bricks.
>> Anonymous
HAVE IT

Somewhere in the world, there is a collection of books. Perhaps it's in a dusty, unpainted shelf in the back corner of someone's attic; perhaps it's in a set of musty boxes in the basement of some tiny, obscure library. It contains a few hundred volumes, all handwritten, ranging from leather-bound volumes with yellowing pages two hundred years old through to modern spiral-bound notebooks. All of them are diaries, some by famous people, some by not-so famous people, but all by the most horrific madmen and murderers the world has ever known. And the collection is growing. For if you ever find it, you will hear a faint scratching sound, coming from the newest volume of the set. This volume will be new, and filled with blank pages, except for the first. On this first page, you will find the beginning of your own diary, written in your own hand.
>> Anonymous
>>72058079

i turned around, and i shat bricks.
>> Anonymous
>>72056727
WTF IS THIS SHIT?
>> Anonymous
>>72058079

JESUS I TURNED AROUND BUT THERES A MIRROR BEHIND ME
SO ALL I SAW WAS A BUNCH OF RANDOM SCARY FUCKING MOTION AS I TURNED
>> Anonymous
>>72058317

I never got this one.
>> Anonymous
>>72058552
the movie is fucking disturbing
>> Anonymous
PT1

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 in. 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.
>> Anonymous
>>72058879
PT2
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 are 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 limps 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.
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
Boring movie is boring.

The first few minutes were cool, then after that BOOOOOOORING.
>> Anonymous
>>72058715
sauce
>> Anonymous
I LIKE THIS ONE

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
>>72053336
Shut up zhylo!
>> Anonymous
BRICKS EVERYWHERE! (SEE WHAT I DID THAR?)

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)
>> Anonymous
>>72057845

I made an entire class of children cry one day by telling that story.
>> Anonymous
Best creepypasta i have seen in months
>> Anonymous
STILL GIVING BACK

Every night is the same. . . I turn on all the lights. I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of the Dark. The Night. Laugh, but you've not see what I've seen, you don't have the scars, you've never seen someone walk into a shadow and vanish. There are things out there more horrible than you could ever know. . . there are voices that come out after the sun goes down, there are shadows with fingers, and claws, and teeth.

Everyone sees them. As children, you saw them, and labeled them as the boogie man, the monster under the bed, the thing outside your window that watched you sleep. You wanted the night light, you knew instinctively that it would protect you just as early man huddled around the fire light to drive the Night back into hiding. As you grew older, you convinced yourself that it couldn't hurt you, that it wasn't there. . . but you still see them. They are the moment in the dark, empty room. They are the soft scratching on your window at night. They are the nightmares that you wake up from in a panic, but can not remember.

But do not worry, as a child you had the answer. Hide under the covers, do not look them in the eye, turn on the lights. Keep your eyes tightly shut when you hear them, when you catch them from the corner of your eyes. Pretend they don't exist and push it all away, or you'll end up like me. Once you see their eyes, they see you. . . and once they see you, they hunger for you.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
EVEN MOAR BACK FOR YOU FAGGOTS
PT1
If you ever are in an area of absolute quiet, still your breathing and move not a muscle. After a few seconds, you will notice that the silence has a sort of "sound" of its own, a kind of empty ringing tone. This is nothing unique, everyone will hear this, given the proper setting. An informed person will tell you that your brain is trying to interpret the lack of stimuli to your hearing and so creates a bit of a filler sound. Actually, there is never, ever, total quiet anywhere on Earth. This sound actually covers something very important. For a persistent individual, one can discern what is under this pitch. The next time you are in such a situation, shout at the top of your lungs for about half a minute, then become completely silent all at once. It will be different for everyone. Some will hear nothing different for dozens of tries. Others might catch a snatch of soft murmuring. A special few might clearly make out what they hear on the first attempt. What you will hear is a voice that relays an account of events about to happen in the immediate future. It's like a sportscaster relaying the events occurring 10 seconds later. Such an ability would doubtlessly be invaluable, no? You will be able react to any immediate danger, relate to people around you with greater ease. No one would ever surprise you. As time goes on, you will be able to make out this voice under increasingly noisy circumstances, to the point that it can be heard at any time by just concentrating. Now, of course you are wondering what sort of horrible catch there is for this.
>> Anonymous
>>72059614
PT2
Perhaps the tone of the voice is so horrible that it will drive you mad, or maybe the voice will only predict your death over and over again. Of course this isn't the case, though, its a normal voice, your ears receive it no matter what, its simply a matter of noticing. But there is a danger. For you see, there's no such thing as a voice lacking a body. And just like you will notice new sounds, so shall you notice new sights. More importantly, you will be noticed.

YOU KNOW, YOU FAGGOTS ARE MY BEST FRIENDS. MAN, I'M SUCH A LOSER!
>> Anonymous
>>72058079

Proof that creepypasta doesn't have to be xboxhueg to make you shit bricks.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72059007
what movie do you speak of?
>> Anonymous
http://www.vidmax.com/index.php/videos/view/3764
>> Anonymous
I HOPE THESE CAPS ARE A MOOD KILLER, THIS IS ME PLAYING WITH YOUR EMOTIONS!

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
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
IT NEEDS MOAR
PT1
Ever wonder how some people you meet seem to have no fear whatsoever?
You know, those people who go skydiving every weekend, climb thousands of
feet up mountains just to snowboard down a side that's 'probably pretty safe,
as long as I avoid those trees.' People who marathon-watch the scariest movies
you've ever seen, then don't even blink before falling asleep.
Well, if you envy them, then there's a way to conquer your own fear.
It's just not pretty.

Get on any passenger bus that travels a long distance; Greyhound is usually
a good pick. Anything that's on the road for longer than 24 hours.
Get a window seat facing west, then stare at the sun, waiting until sunset.
Just before the sun touches the horizon, close your eyes. Hard. Do not turn away,
don't look at anything else. Cover your ears if you have to.

After a while, you'll notice that the bus has stopped moving. That's the signal
that you can open your eyes. When you do, you'll see a gas station, illuminated
only by a few flickering fluorescent lights. There will be no sun, no moon,
no stars in the sky. The convenience store will have its windows boarded up,
but the sign will say 'Open.'
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
wow failure
>> Anonymous
>>72057845
So... where's the creepy part?
>> 404
creepy pasta is creepy
>> Anonymous
I am a heron. I have a long neck and I pick fish out of the water w/ my beak. If you don’t repost this comment on 10 other pages I will fly into your kitchen tonight and make a mess of your pots and pans.
>> Anonymous
>>72060074
PT2
If you feel you can't go through with it, get back on the bus, return to your
seat, and fall asleep. You'll wake up at sunrise the next day, well on your
way to wherever the bus was going.

If you enter the store, the door will slam shut behind you.
You will spend an unknown amount of time there, living out your worst nightmares
made real. If you survive the ordeal without going mad, you will awake back on
the bus, as it reaches its destination. Nothing will ever scare you again.

Some say that after this ordeal, anything else simply pales in comparison.
Others say that all that room contains, is all the fear you will ever feel in
your entire life, and exposing yourself to it all at once keeps you from
feeling any more.

All I know is that if you try to repeat this feat, the sign on the door
will say 'Closed.'
>> Anonymous
ay
I'M SHOWING MY TITS!
http://www.stickam.com/_a1exxx
http://www.stickam.com/_a1exxx
http://www.stickam.com/_a1exxx
>> Anonymous
>>72057845
MY HEART LITTERLY JUMPED AT THE ENDING.
>> Anonymous
Begotten
>> Anonymous
STILL HERE K

The images we see in the mirror are the pure incarnates of evil. They are only allowed to exist in the area reflected in the glass. To them, life is a never ending hell, rotting away in thr same room day after day. The only refuse from this purgatory is death, and the only way for them to die, sad to say, is if YOU die.
Fortunately, they are bound by a code. You are their master, and they must mimic your every movement and expression. To do otherwise would break an unbreakable law, unraveling space and time. However, there is a loophole, and it can only be triggered by you, the master.
To force them into error is to free them from their contract; after you let them out of your view, you're on your own, very vulnerable to revenge for years of captivity. Know this: When you watch them, they're watching you back. They're watching. And they're thinking.

A NOTE TO THE DARING:
The next time you're alone in your room, turn down the lights. Think of something on your body that varies in length, such as hair. It must be clearly viewable from your perspective. Grab a ruler and, looking in the mirror, quickly grab a hair at random; you must confuse it. Hold it in position as best you can and note the length. Look down. Yours will be different.
DO NOT LOOK BACK UP. No matter what, don't turn your back to that mirror ever again.

The next time you wake up groggy and tired, don't move. Take a glance at your mirror; if you're lucky, you might catch a smile
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
A young gentleman, much like yourself, and his comely girlfriend were leisurely enjoying each others' company and engaging in hanky panky when, suddenly, they receive a telephone call.

"Hello?" answered the young gentleman.

"I do not approve of the shenanigans that you and my daughter are partaking in. I demand that you remove your hands from her at once, you ne'er-do-well." said the man on the other end of the line and promptly ended the call.

The young gentleman replaced the telephone receiver and immediately returned to his girlfriend, explaining the incident to her.

"That cannot be," replied the girlfriend "you see, my father passed away several years ago."

The young gentleman was stunned.

he asked, perplexed

"Then who would have placed such a telephone call?"
>> Anonymous
>>72059781

shat brix
>> Anonymous
HAVE SUM MOAR K

In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
>> Anonymous
>>72060544
hahahhaha
>> Anonymous
I'M IN UR BRAIN, KILLIN UR SECURITY

There is a demon of great evil that will be able to walk upon the Earth if someone is told of its existence and does not repeat the name to another. To the best of my ability, his name roughly approximates "Jkqxxllyuo".

This was told to me by a rather unkempt man on the street; if you have not noticed it already, I just told it to you.
>> Anonymous
NO ONE READING THIS THREAD WILL SLEEP TONIGHT!


Rumor has it that every Halloween during the hours of 2am and 5am, there exists a void. You must stand in front of a mirror in a pitch black room with your gaze fixated on the mirror. If you remain in the room when the moment arrives, you will feel a chill seize your body. Place your right hand on the mirror and whisper "I accept." If done correctly, in the mirror there will be a faint image of a fleshless infant with pitch black eyes. He will stare directly into your soul and you will hear the buzzing of flies and nervous whispering. You will not be able to make out the image in the mirror but you will be filled with unspeakable terror. The infant will ask you five questions about events that have occurred within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper and will be devoid of all emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed. For each question that is answered correctly, you will be able to recite the name of someone you know. That person will be found dead the next morning, after a night of unimaginable horror, with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.
>> Anonymous
>>72052820
lol, true story.
>> Anonymous
Whoever the guy is who ultra-delivered on this stuff, you are awesome.
>> Anonymous
I'M SUCH A PRO IN THIS DEPT.

There exists a small circle of trees somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, completely unremarkable from the outside, but just inside no sun or star ever shines. Rumor has it that anyone that can spend three pitch black days and nights within the grove without going mad will be greeted with the queer sight of the sun rising in the west on the beginning of the forth day, filling the grove with radiant light. One wish may be made before this sun, and it shall be fulfilled. However, once that person makes the wish, the world outside the grove shall forever be as dark for them as it had been inside for those three days.
>> Anonymous
The Dyatlov Pass Accident refers to an incident that resulted in the death of nine ski hikers in the northern Ural mountains. The incident happened on the night of February 2, 1959 on the east shoulder of the mountain Kholat Syakhl (????? ????) (a Mansi name, meaning Mountain of the Dead). The mountain pass (N61°45'17", E59°27'46") where the accident occurred has been named Dyatlov Pass (??????? ???????) after the group's leader, Igor Dyatlov (????? ??????).

The mysterious circumstances of the hikers' deaths have inspired much speculation. Investigations of the deaths suggest that the hikers tore open their tent from within, departing barefoot in heavy snow; while the corpses show no signs of struggle, one victim had a fractured skull, two had broken ribs, and one was missing her tongue.[1] The victims' clothing contained high levels of radiation.[1] Soviet investigators determined only that "a compelling unknown force" had caused the deaths, barring entry to the area for years thereafter.[1] The causes of the accident remain unclear.[2][3]
>> Anonymous
WHO WAS PHONE?
>> Anonymous
>>72061115
JUST YOUR HUMBLE ANON FROM THE SWAMP, LOUISIANA.

There's a dark forest deep in the heart of the Rockies, surrounded on all sides by mountains. In the center of the forest is a lake on the shores of which you will find a large black stone. If you swim out into the center of the lake, the stone will drag you down into the darkness.

You will emerge from shadows in the alley of a frightening dark city of heavily arched roofs and buildings built on stilts. You must not talk to a single citizen of this city, or you shall be trapped there forever. The citizenry is horrid and mutated, and they will leer and curse at you, and their hideous and deformed women shall offer you unknown and horrible lewdnesses.

At the edge of this city is a highway. Walk down the left side of the road (yes, against traffic) with your thumb out and a man in a dark truck shall pick you up and drive you back the way you came. The city will be gone, and he will take you to any place on Earth as long as you can name it and there's a road there.
>> anonymous
You are a young white male. Blonde haired, blue eyed. Life is perfect. Then undeniable proof is found linking your ancestors to niggers in africa.
>> Anonymous
KEEP ON FIGHTIN' THE GOOD FIGHT

If you want to get the best sandwich in the world go to a Subway™ restaurant
and say "Make me the sandwich you always wished someone would order."
The person behind the counter will assemble a sandwich with amazing skill
and precision. Although stuffed none of the ingredients fall out. While no
two uses of this trick ever produce the same sandwich each one is verifiably
the best sandwich ever tasted by who ever takes a bite. Even if they wouldn't
normally like what ever happens to be in it.
>> Anonymous
Under humanity, under civilization, stands a colossal and beautiful castle made from bone and flesh. The bodies belong to every single person who's ever died in a war after killing an enemy, and there are millions. Their bodies are twisted with each-other to form eerie swirls, ornaments, gargoyles. If you should ever find yourself facing the castle, you will be looking at something eternal.
If you are brave enough with a pure heart, you will be able to enter the castle and inside it, there will be a throne. On the throne, there will be a man with no clothing but a human skin draped across hiss old and aged body; he will ask you a single question. Should you answer it correctly, you will ascend past physical form and gain knowledge that the man in the throne has. But he careful, the castle will collapse as millions of souls will be released from his cruel grasp; their moaning will be overwhelming and thunderous, the man will turn to ashes and a scream will fill the putrid air around you.
Should you escape, you will be the most powerful creature in the world...
The only catch is that you will not be able to speak to any human after this and your soul will be as cold as glacier ice.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
CREEPY PASTA IS STILL CREEPY

There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, which is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase.

The case is filled with unmarked books, bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood.

However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out.

The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape is to douse the light.
>> Anonymous
>>72061174
What if they wish for it not to be dark?
>> Anonymous
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

In the hills surrounding the town of Bodega Bay in California, there is a tree, sitting right in the crook of two hills. Scattered 10 paces around it are 7 different fresh-water springs.

It is said that one of them cures any disease, another grants immortal life, 4 will kill you instantly and cause your body to dissolve into powder.

But the last spring is special. If you bottle water from this one and take it to a small cave hidden in the hills north of the tree, you will find a single large stone at the back of the cave.

If you then splash the water on the stone, it will dissolve, leaving you a baseball-sized red stone. As long as you have this stone in your possession, you will always be in the right place at the right time.

If you pour water from any of the other 6 springs on the rock, the cave will seal up, and you will be lost forever under the earth.
>> Anonymous
>>72058693
tard
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
Geger's Xenomorphs
>>pale skin
>>sunken eyes
Silent Hill's Pyramid Head
>>sunken eyes
>>elongated faces
>>sharp teeth

This one is such bullshit, and I hate it even more every time I see it.
>> Anonymous
I HAVE NOTHING FUN TO TYPE HERE ANYMOAR

There is a moment each leap year, at exactly three minutes past three on the morning of February twenty-ninth. If you possess the courage, await that moment in darkened room, with no other present. At that moment, the darkness will deepen. If you were to hold you hand directly before your face, you would not see a thing. But you must not do so. No, for that would be to waste the moment. Instead you must reach out, into that impenetrable darkness.

And it will reach out to you.

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

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

From that day on, untold good fortune will be yours, and mysterious power. You will lack nothing, and have everything. But in a year, perhaps two, you will feel your skin begin to decay, and smell the sweet smell of death upon your breath...
>> Anonymous
>>72059368
Sounds like the intro to some stupid roleplaying game.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72060544
BUT WHO WAS PHONE!?
>> Anonymous
AEN WUZ HERE
PT1

I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared as shit. Any moment
now I am going to die.

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

The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her
death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved
without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their
homes. Now, if you weren't already aware that this thing was following you,
once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door...
Once for your skin, which she'll use to patch her own decaying flesh. Twice
for your muscle, which she'll gnash her teeth on between victims. Thrice for
your bones, which she'll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.

Four times for your heart, which she'll wear around her neck. Five times for
your teeth, which she'll polish and keep in a box. Six times for your eyes,
which she'll see the faces of your loved ones through. Seven times for your
soul, which she'll eat whole - you can never pass while you're in her stomach.
>> Anonymous
>>72059368
o.o

someone hold me....
>> Anonymous
Anyone have the link to the site about the "THE ROOM HAS OPENED" message? So badass
>> Anonymous
>>72062377
PT2

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.
>> Anonymous
>>72060544
>>72060544
>>72060544
>>72060544
>>72060544
win
>> Anonymous
>>72062547
PT3

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 hand prints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that.
He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops
arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night,
and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking
on his door. I told him to stop shitting me. He held the phone away from his
face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later,
I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl's voice spoke over the line: "WITNESS." I hung up.

Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times
on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on
the door to my bedroom. She's doing it slowly... I think she wants to scare me
some more, let me know that my death is just moments away.
I will not run - I couldn't get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking
on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Nice knowing you guys, it's been fuy5 WITNESS

ending is a bit gay
>> Anonymous
>>72052820
This is true, but it didn't go quite like that what I read about it, I can't remember fully mind.
>> Anonymous
You wake up in your bed, facing the wall. Which is unusual, because you normally sleep on your back. As you open up your eyes, you see the face of another person, and feel their all-too-comforting arms around you. Then, you realize you don’t feel the heat from their arms. A moment later, it clicks that the person hugging you so tightly is the wall, and no matter how hard you struggle, they won’t let go.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
DAD GUM, THERE IS A LOT OF THIS FOR ONE WORD .DOC!

Raymond had finally decided to do it. This simple dish would be the start of the new man he wanted to become. Although an easy meal to make, the noodles and sauce would be the symbol of a new beginning. He liked to be called Ray, but the poor boy never could use the nerve he thought resided somewhere in the vacant lot he referred to as his psyche. The unfortunate Raymond also had never cooked before. He was brought up with everything given to him. College was a free ride, courtesy of the relative’s money. Meals were always provided by the maid, waitress, or caring friend of the family. A car that was both reliable and symbolic of his prestigious last name’s status was also handed to Raymond in a pretty, hand-wrapped box.
He started by taking the noodles and boiling them with ever so much brevity. He liked his food more on the uncooked side and could not bear the pain of it being prepared with a longer method. After the noodles were finished, the sauce seemed to be done simultaneously, although it made a mess and was runny. This simple dish of two ingredients was all dear Raymond felt that he needed.
He sat down with a glass of water that had been poured beforehand. Raymond only had to take one bite before he was satisfied. The noodles, although hardly cooked, took an inhuman amount of courage to eat, as this was the first thing Raymond felt like he had ever accomplished. The sauce, although runny, took an equal amount of courage to ingest, for this was an equal part of Raymond’s first accomplishment. After contemplating on this drastic change in his life, Raymond pushed his plate aside with one hand and fell asleep on the table, now knowing how his lower intestine tasted.
>> Anonymous
/r/ing stories of the "300 items" or whatever.

link to complete set also.
>> Anonymous
OMFG LAST ONE B4 SCP AND HOLDER SERIESES!

I turned around, and there it was, staring at me. The man with the drum. No... This was no man. Its eyes were bottomless pools of jet-black liquid, it had no hair, ears, or nose to speak of, yet its gaping, lipless mouth more than completed its hideous, round face. The creature's skin was as a sickly yellow, almost grey, covered in endless wrinkles as well as spots resembling hideous burns. It did not speak. It never spoke. I slowly took a step back, and it advanced a single step towards me, beating the drum once with horrific intensity. I took several more steps, and it perfectly mirrored me, striking the drum with every stride. It stared right into me, with empty, soulless eyes, ghastly teeth bared in a grim smile. It never made a sound. Other than the drum, it was as if it was incapable of making any audible noise. For what seemed like an eternity, it followed me, only moving when I did, annihilating what was left of my hearing with its infernal drum. No one else could see it. If they could, they certainly made no mention of it.

It never moved any closer to me. It always maintained a specific distance, as long as I was conscious. Sleep brought endless terror. I could feel it, staring at me, piercing my mind, body, and sanity with its hollow gaze. Each night was indescribable in its duration or dread, lasting what seemed like years, ended only by the rooster's crow. After many nights of this, I evaded sleep with infinite resolution. Nothing could have been more foolish.
>> Anonymous
Some night, /b/ will be a screamer.

Not an image, or a thread of images.
Not the banners.
And not the ads.

/b/ itself will jump you with a horrific image. It won't be simple guro, a harlequin baby or any common creepy image. It'll be something looking dead at you through the monitor, probably just a face. It will be accompanied with a shriek, or some other sound to make you jump.

This will be done through a tiny AJAX script discreetly laced into the page's source code at random by the server. This will happen on an individual basis, and can only occur between the hours of midnight and four AM.

Every time you enter /b/, change threads or submit a post, there is a chance the script will be loaded, setting the timer. Could be a few seconds after the page loads. Could be a few minutes.

It will happen eventually.

The odds will be very low. It will probably only catch one person.

But it could be you.

It's a possibility to keep in mind when you're staring at your screen in the dark.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72062960
PT2

As I now well know, insomnia of such a magnitude only serves to exponentially terrify the haunted man. As days passed without a wink of rest, it began to change. Its eyes seemed to deepen. Even glancing near those obsidian jewels brought a total loss of any positive thought, any hope of life, or happiness, as if the very earth I stood upon was torn out from under me and I was cast into nothingness to float forever. Its mouth grew. How, I couldn't fathom. It already took up more than half of its grotesque face, yet it now seemed to fill my vision, no matter where I looked, no matter how much I tried to avoid it, even when I closed my eyes, I could see its flagitious smile, ever mocking me. My despair consumed me, and I looked directly into its eyes.

My very soul was ripped out, I fell, fell through nothingness. Fell…and awoke. I was in my garden, sun blazing overhead, with the demon nowhere to be seen. I took a step --- no drum! Was I finally free of this nightmare? I reckoned I should go to a psychologist, a priest, someone, anyone, to try and figure out what had haunted me so. As I walked through town, no one looked at me. It was as if they stared through me, as if I wasn't even there. I nearly ran into a young woman, stepping aside at the last moment. As I turned back to apologize, she fell to the ground, a look of indescribable terror adorning her pretty face. I tried to speak, to ask what it was she had seen, but no words came. No one looked; no one noticed me, or the now burning woman lying on the ground. I ran. I ran and ran until I reached my home. I burst in, looking for a mirror. I reached my bedchambers, gazed into the soul-piercing glass, and saw the face of Hell, and that same infernal drum.
>> Anonymous
>>72060158
in the final paragraph if youre not a fucking moron
>> Anonymous
When you next make soup.

Gary Lineker will whisper in your ear.

"My brother is in jail. Oh noooooooo."
>> Anonymous
>>72056727
fucken creepy! =O I shat bra/x/
>> Anonymous
SCP SERIES

USAF File: C203-92b
Date: Jun 7, 1952

Filed by: Capt. Henry Milan
----

Item found outside of Yuma, Arizona on March 24th.

During regular training exercises, Corporal Ben Flynn and his squadron came across an strange statue in an empty installation set to be used for future bombing run training. The statue is approximately seven feet tall and human in form. The arms and legs are disproportionate to the head and torso, resembling a fetus. Strange colouration was noted on the face of the statue and it was posed against on of the inner walls of the building. Upon further inspection, Corporal Flynn noted that the statue is composed of mostly cement and is possibly reinforced with steel rebar. It is likely man-made.

Further investigation of the surrounding area yielded no other signs of transportation for the statue other that misshapen foot prints. It is likely that the statue was placed there by locals looking to create a stir or possibly protest the war. Private Allen Benson took the supplied photograph to document the area in the event that an investigation to the security of the training area is to take place.

Private Benson reported that he heard the sound of heavy scraping within the building shortly after he left. This prompted a search of the other rooms in case any civilians may have still been in the building but were undetected. The area was given an "all clear" by the squad commander and the statue was left in the building. It was deemed necessary that on June 9th, a final morning inspection of the building will be conducted before it is demolished to make certain that no civilians have returned to the area and to ensure no lives are lost.
>> Anonymous
You'd fallen asleep to late-night television, but curiously woke up to the sounds of the static playing on the T.V. As you sit up, rubbing your eyes, you read the scrawling words of the Emergency Broadcast System "This is just a test - This is just a test - This is just a test..." You glance at the clock. 3:33. Yawning, the television catches your eye, and as you watch, the EBS say something different, "This is just a test - This is just a test - You are being watched - This is just a test..."

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
Umm...you can't see Pyramid Head's head, like, at all. How do you know he doesn't look like Shirley Temple beneath the mask-thing, hm?
>> Anonymous
>>72056945
who was phone?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item#: SCP-173
Special Containment Procedures: Item SPC-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container.
Description: Moved to Site19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray-paint. SCP-173 is animate extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personal are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.

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

The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.
>> Anonymous
Well, my story starts one night, it was raining, and I was all alone at home. I live with my mom, father, and sister so it’s usually not quiet at all, but that night they had decided to go watch a movie. I was feeling a little sick, so I didn’t feel like going.
So then, I went down to the kitchen to make myself a nice sammich, and I heard a weird noise coming from upstairs. We have no pets, except a few fishes from some South American country, and those make no noise. So I get reasonably spooked, and walk slowly up the stairs… the sound repeated itself, only it was louder, and closer…
I walked up a few more steps, my fear growing with every single one. Cold sweat ran down my spine as I heard the noise again, closer, louder. By the time I got to the top of the staircase, I heard it again, and I could locate the sound coming from my bedroom. I froze, the sound was louder than ever before, although it probably was my fear magnifying it. I could start to identify what sound it exactly was, it sounded like gnawing, it reminded me of a small hamster I once had as a little girl, only far more vicious, if a sound can be vicious. Then it stopped. The silence was deafening. I mustered up the courage and I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say this cab is rare, but I thought ‘Now forget it’ - ‘Yo homes to Bel Air’. I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8, and I yelled to the cabbie ‘Yo homes smell ya later’.I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72062367
I WAS PHONE!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Item#: SCP-246
Current Location: Item SCP-246 is located in Hedge Garden #2, south of the containment building and is not to be approached by personal.

Special Containment Procedures: Do NOT approach Item SCP-246. It is hostile if threatened. It reacts violently to anyone nearby (1-2 meters of statue). Any verbal speech patterns above a whisper in range will also cause the statue to attack, usually by bludgeoning them to death with its rock appendages.

NO personnel are to move SCP-246.

In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 3 hazardous object containment procedures.


Description: Moved to Site19's garden area in 1999. Origin seems to be Greek although further studies have noticed an archaic language of unknown origin in various places. It seems to be constructed from limestone although there are traces of unknown rock throughout the item's exterior. As well the rate of corrosion due to rain water is not consistent with natural deposits of limestone. As well, non-human life forms (birds, canines, felines)are not affected by the statue and birds have been reported to rest on the statues head. The object does not self-animate unless first touched by human interaction or if spoken in front of within a one to two meter range. The right side of the item's face seems to have been broken off by an unknown object.

Personnel report sounds of a woman moaning after midnight until dawn in the vicinity of SCP-246. This is considered normal, and any change in this behavior should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.

All personnel are reminded to maintain the necessary precautions when cleaning the garden area.
>> Anonymous
>>72060158
Read it again, it'll hit you.
>> Anonymous
While visiting a friend in the hospital, you overhear a woman crying in grief over a miscarriage. As you walk through the lonely halls of the hospital on your way out, you see a small trail of blood leading to a corner. For a split second, you can see the end of a severed umbilical cord being dragged around the corner.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
Item: SCP - 78
Special Containment Procedures: Do not approach without the use of supplied goggles and gas mask. Doing so is to risk severe injury and infection.

Description: Item quarenteened at Site #192 for further study after incident (See file ref #272-407: Item 78). Item appears to be a sculpture of a man in hood. Personnel report feeling of immense horror and drowsiness when in close proximity of Item 78 without equipment (see SCP). Sculpture appears to release a lethal gas using many chemical combinations currently being tested on. Personnel are also advised that statue moves around Site #192. Any movement of statue are to immediately be reported to Site Supervisor
>> Anonymous
THESE WERE THE OG NIGGERS IN THE SCP SERIES, AN OCEAN OF CRAP FLOODED IN AFTER. ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTE!

Item#:SCP-045

Current Location: Security locker room 14G.

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-045 is non-violent, unlike other collected items and as such does not require special protection for maintenance staff. It does not self-animate nor does it require the activation or interaction of human/non-human lifeforms to animate it. SPC-045 does however have some interesting properties accustom to its exposure to the visible wave spectrum. Most noticeably, as seen in the cataloging photo *seen right*, it reacts to light by changing the color of its paints. Security and maintenance personnel report the statue changes color every time they check Sec.LR 14G on their daily rounds.

ANY change in this behavior should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.

It is advised that security and maintenance staff take a digital camera to record any new color variations they may encounter with SCP-045.

Description: First discovered in 1974.
Location of first discovery is classified. Location of second discovery is classified.
It is comprised of a solid hardwood and is covered from top to bottom with a lead-based paint.
An estimated 147 unique color variations have been recorded since its move here and their meaning has yet to be deciphered.
>> Anonymous
HOLDERS SERIES

The following notes were found next to the body of a blind man, his body chewed on by numerous cats that found their way into his apartment. There was also a series of large gashes next to the man's body as though something had cut the hardwood floors, nearly two inches deep and as long as an arm. The man's body was undamaged by whatever caused the gashes. Medical Examiners who examined the body were unable to find any cause of death, and aside from the cats that ate parts of his corpse the man showed no signs of death, not even rigor mortis. It's been said that the body was sent to the lead government of whatever country the man was found (reports differ, some say the United Kingdom, others the Former Soviet Republic, Australia, China, and of course the United States.) but was lost, or disappeared, in transit. The notes, however, remain. Though none can speak for their authenticity.
>> Anonymous
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
>>72063545
>>72063805
>>72064009

Someone care to explain those to me?
>> Anonymous
>>72052189

idk but the pic scares the FUCK outta me :|
>> Anonymous
>>72064519
“Hidden around the world are a group of objects, seemingly chosen by some higher power in an arbitrary fashion. It's said that whoever the higher power is created the universe only a short while ago, much later than science believes (Some say the universe is as young as one year old, others believe it was created shortly before the first world war). Some say that when the Items are brought together the world as we know it will end, and some say the world will truly begin. Whatever the purpose a random sampling of the population has been driven to find these things, either to Protect them, Destroy them, or Reunite them. These people are gifted from birth by a preternatural desire, an obsession some might say, to go forward with this goal. Many would die to accomplish their goal. Many more would kill. These are the Seekers, their gift is their curse, their only lot in life is to find the Items. Anyone who comes into contact with an Item with knowledge of what it is runs the risk of becoming one of the Seekers. The lucky ones are satiated by a single, simple, Item. Others spend their life searching.
>> Anonymous
>>72060192
>>72060544
I lol'd SO hard.
>> Anonymous
>>72058693
The thing wearing mommy's skin is sitting up.

That creepypasta made me shit brix the first time I read it.
>> Anonymous
>>72064630
The Items themselves can be anything. From something as simple as a thumbtack to something as complex as a living creature. Though some are used by Seekers who's wicked souls taint the Items (though some say the opposite is true) but all of them can be used for the greater good or personal gain. There are rules though: A Seeker can never give an Item away, it can only be taken by force, it must be earned fairly, or the owner must have died a natural death. An Item can never be tossed away. If it is, it will find it's way to the owner through a series of coincidences. The legend of the black pearl is a tale of one such Item. A Seeker must take care when handling an Item, or run the risk of becoming insane. They then become a Keeper. A Keeper is an immortal shell of a Seeker, forever protecting their precious. A Keeper will ask a question, series of questions, or present a riddle or puzzle of logic to the Seekers that encounter it. Anyone who completes the trials is deemed worthy of the Item, those who are not free the Keeper and become the new Keeper.
>> Anonymous
A sampling of known items follows:
• The Coin: When placed under the tongue it gives the gift of languages. The markings on it are of an unknown civilization, and the face it bears is of an elven creature. Despite it's unnatural markings, it appears like any other coin minted in the common age. The Coin is said to also grant the gift of understanding the language of animals as well as humans. The Coin is even able to translate written languages, including ciphers. The language of the Items themselves is immune to the Coin.
• The Pin and Tumbler Key: The Pin and Tumbler Key fits into any pin and tumbler lock and creates a portal to any other pin and tumbler locked door. No secret is safe from the Holder of the Pin and Tumbler Key, any door or briefcase that uses a similar lock is open to them. The key is almost indistinguishable from any other similar key, save for the presence of lettering along the top of it. The letters appear to come from the same language as the coin.
>> Anonymous
• The Knife: Able to cut anything cleanly. The knife is powerful enough that if dropped onto a slab of titanium it will bury itself into the metal to the handle. Even with the most powerful microscope no tool marks can be found. The knife is a simple kitchen knife, free even of the letterings of other Items.
• The Chain: When both ends are touched to an object the two objects cannot be pulled apart from each other. The only way to undo The Chain is for the Holder to remove them, or for the chains to be won in one of the above methods. The chain is a simple iron chain, a yard in length with twenty three links.
• The Mirror: Creates a doppelganger of a chosen individual, including the Holder. The doppelganger is identical in every way to the original, The Mirror itself is plain and frameless, polished to a perfect shine, a rectangle little larger than a hand.
• The Cup: Once filled by a liquid, it can never be dry. Any liquid can fill The Cup, and once another liquid is poured into The Cup, it replaces the original completely, and can never be dry. The Cup is a simple glass, no different from any other except for a single chip on the ridge, that leads down into a crack in the glass.
>> Anonymous
>>72064726

Yeh im with you on that one... fucking eerie
>> Anonymous
F IT, LETS GET CRACKIN

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the End". Should a look of childlike fear come over the worker's face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to himself echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.
Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through. I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave; do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you've escaped.
If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. "What happens when they all come together?"
The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.
Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.
That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never
>> Anonymous
>>72059781

fuck you faggot, now im rly scared
>> Anonymous
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of the Beginning". A small smile will work its way over the person's mouth, almost as if to say, "You fool.".
You will be taken down a hallway, seemingly leading out into a place it shouldn't. This place will seem to exist nowhere in the institution, but it will. The hall will be silent, even if you try to make noise. Screams will die before leaving your mouth, footsteps will be muffled. Your guide will simply point to the door.
If you enter you will find a cozy room, full of a pleasant, though unidentifiable, perfume. There will be a pretty lady sitting, holding nothing. No sounds will be made in this room, no matter how hard you try, except for one question: "Why were they separated?" The lady will then explain, in detail, the reason. It will be every horrific event in history, every beating, every war, every rape. Everything. Then, all will fall silent. It is up to you to do what you will with this information.
That lady is Object 2 of 538. It is up to you if they should be joined or not.
>> Anonymous
>>72065146

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
>> Anonymous
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Eternity". A sigh might escape the worker as he looks upon you with the utmost pity. He will take you down a flight of stairs into what should be the basement of the building, and yet isn't.
As you press deeper and deeper into this underlayer of the institution a chorus of screams will become audible. Softly at first, as if from a great distance, but the closer you get to the end of the hallway, the louder it becomes until it drones so loud that it seems to consume all other noises; until you begin to claw at your own ears in pain. The worker will show you a door, covering both his ears. As swiftly as he can, he will unlock the door and run, leaving only you in this cramped, dark hallway.
This is your last chance to run. If you decide to continue and open the door, the piercing wail will end abruptly, leaving your ears ringing. The room is coated in an almost-tangible, all-consuming darkness but for the far end of the room. There, manacled to the wall is an emaciated figure, covered in raw lashes. He stares directly at you, with a grin plastered to his face despite festering wounds and a scalpel still half-protruding from his chest. Now is your only chance to save yourself, and the only way is to ask "Who created them?".
He will cackle, in a manner befitting the death throes of an animal before responding. His tale will be the most horrific tale you have ever heard, beyond such primitive concepts such as pain and death, into the very essence of wrong. Of evil.
It is up to you to end this man's life, to release his terrible burden. Remove the scalpel, and he will shudder once in agony before falling silent forever.
That scalpel is Object 3 of 538. It is up to you if the rest should be protected or destroyed.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
lolwut
>> Anonymous
men,you CAN NOT GET PREGNANT FROM A MALE DOG! FOR ALL YOU INEXPERANCED MEN AND YOUNG GUYS THAT WANT TO FUCK YOUR BITCH,”JUST DUE IT”
SHE AINT GONNA GET PREGNANT,AND IF YOU HAVE ANY KIND OF BRAINS YOU WIL BEABLE TO TELL HOW SHE IS GOING TO REACT TO YOUR ADVANCES!IT DONT MATTER WHAT ALL THE VETS OR SO CALLED EXPERTS SAY ABOUT BITCHES NOT BEING SEXUALLY ACTIVE UNLESS THEY ARE IN “HEAT” THEY ARE WRONG!!!! MY EXPERIENCE WITH FUCKING FEMALE DOGS IS THIS,USE LUBE,BE DONT RUSH
HER,LET HER GET USE TO ALL OF YOU IN THE RAW,BE GENTIL AND USE YOUR FINGERS FIRST TOGET HER PUSSY TO STRECHOUT BEFOR YOU TRY TO STICK THAT HOG YOU HAVE IN HER.TREAT HER LIKE A VIRGIN GIRL FRIEND WHO HAS FINALLY SURRENDERD HER BODY TOYOU.
TRUST ME I HAVE DONE BOTH!ITS TRUE DOGGIE PUSSY IS WARMER AND SETS AT A DIFFERENT ANGLE BUT YOU CAN ACHIVE A FULL PENITRATION AND ONCE YOUR IN BE READY FOR THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE.IF YOUR LUCKEY YOU WILL BEABLE TO STAY IN
AND LET HER FUCK YOU UNTILL SHE TIRES ONCE SHES STOPPED ITS YOUR TURN!!!THATS RIGHT IF SHE DIDNT MAKE YOU CUM YOU WILL CUM ALL IN HER WHEN YOUR PUMPING HER AS HERVAGINAS TRYING TO WORK YOUR COCK LIKE A DOGS KNOT. HERE IS A SHORT TALE OF ONE OF MANY INTER COURSES I HAVE HAD WITH DOGGIE PUSSIES. I WAS TRIPPING ON LSD ONE NIGHT AND MY DOBIE WAS IN HEATTHIS WAS ONE OF THE MOST ANIMALISTIC INTERCOURSES I EVER HAD WITH ANY OF THE ANIMALS IVE BEEN INTIMATE WITH. NEEDLESS TO SAY WHAT CAUSED ME TO FINALLY GET MY NUT THAT NIGHT WAS SHE WAS COMPLETLY EXAUSTED AND COULD NOT KEEP STANDING
I WAS HOLDING HER REAR END SO I COULD POUND HER LIKE THE BITGH SHE WAS.
FOR THOSE WHO AER TRYING TO GET DOGGIE PUSSY KEEP AT IT ITS WORTH THE EFFORT,AND FOR THOSE WHO ARE BASHING THOSE OF US WHO ARE OR ARE TRYING TO HAVE SEX WITH OUR DOGS I SAY TO YOU PERSONS THIS DONT KNOCK IT UNTILL YOU HAVE DONE IT.
>> Anonymous
PT1

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Nothing". Should a look of sheer, primal disgust mar the worker's expression, you will then be taken to a separate building, which appears to be an old, wooden outhouse. Inside will be a seemingly endless corridor far, far longer than the length of the outhouse.
There will be no sound in the corridor. Attempting to make any at the wrong time is a grievous, grievous mistake. You will notice the lights in the corridor get brighter and brighter as you make your way down towards the end, becoming nearly blinding. If at any point the lights go out, QUICKLY shout out "No! Stop! What you are doing is wrong!" while backing away. If the lights do not come back on, bolt for the door you came in through. It should still be open and hopefully you aren't far enough down the hallway for them to close it on you. If they manage to close it, hell itself would be preferable to what you will suffer.
>> Anonymous
>>72065594
PT2

If the lights come back on, return to walking forward down the corridor. Upon reaching the cell, the worker will open the door for you while glaring at you in disgust. Inside the cell will be a mad pastiche of colors, arranged in several harlequin-like formations. You must not be distracted by them, for at the center of a room is a naked young woman, slathered in blood and bound by strips of human sinew. If you take your eyes off her even for a moment, she will destroy you utterly. She will only respond to one question. "What were they when they were one?"
She will then stare into your eyes, and speak the answer in incredible detail. It will be unlike anything you have ever heard and you will be on the verge of both ecstasy and agony at her mere words. It is not uncommon for most to lose themselves in the euphoria. The worst thing you can do, however, is look upon the tattoo on her chest. It will pull at your mind to gaze upon it, but you mustn't. If you do, you will be hers.
She will flay you alive and add your mutilated flesh to her bindings, and you will remain trapped with her, fully conscious, for the rest of time.
That tattoo is Object 4 of 538. They desire to be one again, but they mustn't
>> Anonymous
>>72058693
samefag.
explain please
>> Anonymous
PT1
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, close your eyes and ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Light”. You will be guided to a single door leading to a long winding hallway. You will be told to open your eyes. The hallway will be complete darkness, narrow enough only for you to feel the walls and navigate yourself forward.
If at any moment along the way the lights should come on, shut your eyes immediately and quickly make your way back to the door you came in. If your eyes stay open for more than a second, what you see will force you to instinctively tear them out.
If the lights stay off however, you will make your way to the end of the hall and another door. If there is a light from under the door leave immediately: what you came for is not there. If there is no light from under the door, carefully turn the handle and enter.
The room will be completely dark, aside from the lone candle in the center. What little light it brings reveals an outline of a cloak hovered over it. The man underneath the cloak is completely still. If you say anything, the man will tear out your eyes and devour your soul, and you will be forced to take his place under the cloak for the rest of eternity. There is only one question that the man will respond to: “What can protect us from them?”
>> Anonymous
>>72065871
PT2

If you proceed to ask this question, a piercing scream will ring out from the candle and a series of lights will illuminate the room, revealing the images of the most horrifying thoughts, fantasies and memories from all consciousness throughout history. Most people cannot handle this event, and will go insane or die instantly. However, if you should somehow manage to survive this, the man in the center of the room will rise slowly and put his hands to your head. You will be forced to look at his face. His face appears young, with the exception of two large cavities where his eyes once where. At this point you must not look away or you will be forever forgotten in time. He will then open your hand and place a small, round object into your right hand. You will be left feeling no pain, but the horrifying images will be burned into your memory for all eternity.
The eye you hold in your hand is Object 5 of 538. The awakening has begun, they must not be brought together.
>> Anonymous
PT1

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit "The Holder of Song”. You will be guided to a single door leading to a long winding staircase. It will seem to take you up higher than the building should stand. There will be a door at the top of the stairway that opens into a dim hall.
Heat will wash over you. Proceed down the hall, and at one point it will suddenly get much colder. When this happens, you must stand perfectly still and make no sound. If you hear a baby crying, turn around and run away. The baby's cry will follow you. If you hear it for the rest of your life, you're lucky; when it stops, your first-born child has died.
If there is no cry and the heat returns, proceed to the door at the end of the hall. Open it.
The room will be awash in green light. In the center will be an old woman turning a music box that produces no sound. Both her legs have been severed at the knees. When you speak to her, you must look her in the eyes. She hides a spear fashioned from the bones of her legs, and if you break eye contact, she will impale you and leave you in agony to bleed to death. She will respond to only one question: "What was the song they used to play?"
>> Anonymous
>>72055078

Looks like Spy vs Spy to me...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
It's early 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.

Message two.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
>>72066118
PT2
The old woman will begin singing. The song is in a different language, but the melody is beautiful; serenity will wash over you. You will be presented with the image of children playing and singing, but things will turn grim. The children will begin fighting, then killing, then disemboweling each other with sharp rocks. The image will continue of children spreading death and destruction more horrific than you could ever have dreamt. But still, you will remain calm and peaceful. You will see a naked boy drenched in blood, singing with delight as he runs through a hellish wasteland, pursued by unspeakable monsters. They find him, and mutilate him utterly. Still, the song will continue from his dead lips.
An intense pain will stab at your chest. Your heart will feel like it is about to explode. But still, you must not break eye-contact with the old woman; if you do, an exploding heart would become your happiest dream. If you don't shift your gaze, the pain will cease. The woman will stand up (you will know not how) and place the music box in your hands.
The music box is Object 6 of 538. When its song plays again, they will all come together.
>> Anonymous
PT1
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Path". The worker will try his best to keep a look of indifference while handing you a key, which he explains belongs to an unused supply closet in the building. If only it were that simple. Upon locating and unlocking the door you will find a narrow and winding road suspended in an endless void, only occasionally disrupted by the massive outlines of things best left unsaid.
To fall off the path is to be thrown out of reality itself. A nightmarish eternity of inconceivable horror awaits anyone who either stumble into the void by his own error, or is dragged off the path by the timeless monstrosities that reside on the outskirts of creation. If you should ever feel as if you are being watched while traveling through this piece of oblivion, the best chance you have is to immediately freeze in place and hold your breath. Continue to do so until either your audience loses interest and moves on or moves in to claim you. If the latter, feel free to scream as hard as you want.
>> Anonymous
Where do you get this creepypasta? It's delicious.
Also, more pics please.
>>72065430
is all I have
>> Anonymous
>>72066580
PT2
Eventually the path will end at a door. Upon opening it you will find a small, dirt-caked room. Propped up against the far wall will be a heavily emaciated corpse, with what‘s left of its skin long since blackened with necrosis. There will be nothing else unusual about it unless you approach it and ask one question: "How did they acquire guardians?"
If said line is spoken, the “corpse” will begin to stir. A subtle red glow will come from its eye sockets as it lifts its head and begins to whisper the long and macabre history of the holders. It will speak of unholy pacts and unspeakable atrocities. Within time its tale will touch upon every form of evil known to man or God, and then a few more. Furthermore, if given the title of any holder, it will reveal its history and the meaning of the object that it protects.
Well, almost any holder. You see, it will never go into detail about itself. This is because the ghoul hopes that its visitor will not question why it seems to be lacking an object. In truth its piece was somehow sealed inside the creature’s skull, and the ominous light in its eye sockets is actually that of the object shining through.
That object is 7 of 538. Its holder will do anything to keep you away from it.
>> Anonymous
>>72061378
Are you a House of Shock fag?
>> Anonymous
>>72066163
Holy fucking shit.
>> Anonymous
furry up and finish this thread so i can fucking save it and go to sleep
>> Anonymous
>>72066668
IDK WTF THAT IS, SRSLY.

PT1
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Wealth." The worker will raise one eyebrow. Ask a second time, and the worker will shrug and take you across the street, where an opulent mansion awaits. The mansion was not there before, but do not preoccupy yourself with the mansion's origin. Its owner would rather not scare you away.
Inside the front door, there is a grand staircase spiraling up across the foyer. The walls are covered with fine paintings, and a large marble statue rests on a pedestal by the base of the stairs. The statue's eldritch features evoke an image of a truly horrific beast, a creature at once both alien and evil. Admire it all you want, but don't touch it. Touching it will wake it, and it hasn't eaten in a while.
Ascend the staircase. As long as you touch nothing, you are in no danger. Don't panic. At the top of the stairs is a small, unassuming wooden door. It will open for you, if you are not afraid.
>> Anonymous
>>72066719

hurry*

lol
>> Anonymous
Your computer's monitor abruptly dies. You curse and try to get it to turn back on, and that's when you notice your reflection. Of course, there's you seated in front of the desk in the blank, black screen, as well as those of two figures immediately behind you. Turning around, you find you are alone. The screen then immediately turns back on as if nothing happened.

While you're calling home to check your answering machine, someone picks up the other end. The voice sounds familiar and answers the phone with your name. After a short and angry conversation in which the person insists he is in fact the rightful tenant, you speed home in an attempt to catch the guy. When you get there, no one is there, but your phone starts ringing. You answer it with your name...

While looking out of the window briefly on your way through the kitchen/bathroom/whatever, you very quickly see a hand reach out and close the door of your shed in the backyard from the inside. That door hasn't been opened in a long time, and no one was in your backyard. No one is in the shed.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
These stories are becoming seriously gay and sound like the premise of some text-based rpg.
>> m??t !??8?ui8?w !!oadzW7++QCU
WHO WAS PHONE?!
NO, YOU ARE THE DEMONS.
>> Anonymous
>>72066833
PT2

Standing there, behind a large desk of what appears to be mahogany, there stands a man with a pointed goatee and short, cropped, gelled hair. He wears a suit that at once appears to be made of human flesh and Italian silk. He may speak, and at great length. He will talk about his amazingly beautiful house, and the lovely statue of his concubine resting downstairs. Do not interrupt him, and do not answer any questions he may ask. When he is finished, steel yourself, and confidently ask, "May I have my salary?"
He will proceed to explain to you, in great detail, the value of life. He will talk of things worse than death, and he will tell you exactly what he expects you to do. The fabulous interior of the room will rot away, and the floor will turn from French weave to feces. His own appearance will become unimaginably cyclopean and ungodly. He will then fish out a small bank note from the inside of his human suit and hand it to you.
That note is Object 8 of 538. Its holder is counting on you to spend it.
>> Anonymous
These stories are becoming seriously gay and sound like the premise of some text-based rpg.
>> Anonymous
>>72058317
brix have been shat, sir

>>72058079
well played
>> Anonymous
BUT WHO WAS PHONE?
>> m??t !??8?ui8?w !!oadzW7++QCU
NO, YOU ARE THE DEMONS, BUT WHO WAS PHONE?!
>> Anonymous
>>72056727

sauce
>> Anonymous
>>72066873
And you're a fag.
>> Anonymous
LAST ONE, THE REST JUST GO WAAAAAAAY DOWNHILL. :E

PT1
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Wisdom." The worker will chuckle and you will be guided to an empty room. The worker will hand you a key and tell you to wait some time in the room until you hear a bell ring. Then you have to lock the door. Wait until a second ring and unlock it.
It will open all by itself and reveal a long hallway, with all colors you may or may not know painted onto the walls, ceiling, and floor. Follow the hallway until you hear a little girl singing. Stop, close your eyes and stay where you are until the girl finishes the song, even if you think that it will drive you mad. If you do move, run. Run back to the door where you came from, as fast as you can. Jump through the window of the room where you waited before and you might live. Should you be unable to reach the window in time, a horrible creature will drag you back into the hallway where you will die a death that is as horrible as the creature that caught you.
If you do not move and the song ceases, you are free to turn around and leave forever, or walk deeper into the hallway, until you reach a door in the shape of a human. Open this door with the same key that was given to you earlier, walk inside and close it behind you. In the middle of the room you will see a desk with a bright candle. Behind the desk will sit a man, his face hidden by the shine of the candle. Walk closer, but always keep the flame between you and the man's face, for you will surely feel the urge to empty your stomach should you witness his visage.
>> Anonymous
Great copypasta is great.
>> Anonymous
>>72067219
PT2

Stop when you are five steps away from the desk. The man will raise his hand and gesture you to come closer, but do not step any further than this. Close your eyes and ask him one question, nothing else: "Who will bring them back together?" You will hear the man rising from his chair and he will begin to pray. It will be a language you will not understand at first, but after two minutes, you will hear a name. Should you hear "Anubis", then pray that your death will come quickly. If it is "Thor" you hear, you may open your eyes. The man's head will be on the desk, cut off of the body but still talking. After another three minutes, he will stop and begin to tell you how you will die. He will describe every tiny detail of your horrible death, and you will be unable to move. He will also describe who kills you and why he does it.
Finally, the man will stop talking. His head is Object 9 of 538. It is up to you what you do with the knowledge of your death, for it now is inevitable.
>> Anonymous
I STILL HAVE MORE

There is an abandoned house at the corner of your street, no matter where you live. You have never seen this house before, but it is there. If you go up to the door and knock three times, a voice will fill your head, commanding you to enter. Once you step through the door you will see a room made of mirrors with no windows or other doors. And in the centre of the room you will find...

Goatse, in all his glory. And the door behind you will have locked.
>> Anonymous
A man of approximately 30 years walked into my motel kind of haggard looking and carrying a duffel bag and a teddy bear. He slowly lumbered on over and asked in a husky voice if he could rent a room for the night.
He said that he wasn’t feeling good, and that something wasn’t agreeing with him so that if he could just get a couple hours of sleep he would feel much better and so would his family knowing that their dad wasn’t driving around all bothered. I registered him and told him that he and his family could take room 7.
As I showed him to the room and made sure it was empty, he asked me, if I promised I wouldn’t interrupt him while he slept. I asked what was so important that he could not be interrupted at all. He said that he was just really tired after a long and bad day. I shrugged casually and let him to his business.
A few hours later, he walked out of his room and paid the bill, looking much better than he did before. I asked how the sleep was, and he said that it was very relaxing and that he felt much better now.
He got in his car and drove off down the road and out of site. After relaxing for a couple of minutes, I signalled the maid to go make sure the room was clean if another guest was to show up.
She came out a moment later screaming! I rushed to her side to see what was bothering her, and I then saw the bloody corpse hanging from the ceiling fan. In blood written on the walls was the word’s “I’m so sorry, please forgive me” and at the foot of his corpse was a teddy bear, with blood dripping gently onto its face as the arm of a little girl hung out the side of his duffle bag.
>> Anonymous
>>72058317
I shat brix
>> Anonymous
>>72066833
HOS it's in Nola, sound like somebody I know from there.
>> Anonymous
Well anon, that's it. I've given all I own. I hope I have enriched your evening through creepy stories. Now, I'm crawling back into the swamp and lurking threads for a while longer.
>> Anonymous
Shit shit fucking shittles
>> Anonymous
At first it's a subtle thing. The people on television seem to be glancing out at you more often. At first you attribute it to bad acting- isn't it a rule in Hollyweird that you don't look right into the camera?- but then you notice that they seem to start missing cues because they're staring.

Then they start talking to you directly.

Compliments Daniel
>> Anonymous
>>72067595
SHREVEPORT, MY NIGGA, PRACTICALLY IN TEXAS!
>> Anonymous
>>72057711
You're doing it wrong.

Proper version goes something like:

One night I was roused from my sleep by a telephone call. I groggily got out of my bed and answered the phone.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you but may I have a few minutes of your time?" the voice on the other end inquired.

"Sure I guess-" I began but couldn't get the "... since you already woke me up" out before they hung up on me.

As I krept back to bed I felt just a little bit older.
>> Anonymous
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
2538
>> Anonymous
>>72067822
Ahhh, I'll leave a forty on the highway going to Alexandra for you next time I'm heading to Nola. You deserve the holy ale for your works today.
>> Anonymous
>>72067747
FUCK YOU, THAT'S MY IRL NAME
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72068087
RIGHT ON!

CREEPY PICS GO
>> Anonymous
MORE MENTAL INSTITUTION SHIT
>> Anonymous
>>72060544
then who was phone?
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72068436
OMFG STILL DELIVERING
http://shii.org/knows/Holders_Series
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72060192
i lol'd
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
UNF UNF
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
EPIC/CREEPY
>> Anonymous
http://www.angelfire.com/trek/caver/page1.html

Due to the overwhelming number of requests I have received to tell about my discoveries and bizarre experiences in a cave not far from my home, I have created this web page. I will outline the events that happened to me during the past few months. Beginning with my journey into a familiar cave in December 2000 and ending... well, it hasn't actually ended yet. I will use my caving journal as the text to tell about my recent experience. I will give them to you as I experienced them, in chronological order.

I have included photographs that were taken during my many trips into the cave. I have also created a few illustrations to help the reader get a better idea of what things looked like in the cave. All of the photo's were taken by me, or one of the few people I went into the cave with. ...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Peita by Michaleangelo?
one of the turtles

Redone by Deaddreamer

Mary holding Jesus
>> Anonymous
>>72066289
does it really go to 538? I don't think there's room in this thread for that many posts...
>> Anonymous
someone post a link of that youtube video where the guy stares at you
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72069639
There's a huge chunk that /x/ skipped.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
I love you.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
Original content yey!

this story is 100% true.

My best friends mother, 20 years ago was driving down the high way. she saw a man and it was pouring rain, and he was hitch hiking. she felt so terrible for the man that she picked him up. she asked the man who he was and if he wanted to go get some coffee. he told her he had no money but she said she would pay for it. they went to a coffee house in the next town, and he said that was as far as he needed to go and that he would pay her back for the coffee, so she gave him her mailing address. 4 weeks later, she got a letter containing 20$ that said, "here is the coffee money, and some more for your kindness. when I got into the car I was going to kill you but because you were so nice, I chose not too. go look under your passenger seat".

the women went and looked under the seat to find a 9 inch knife.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72053067
o shit my birthday is oct 29
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> 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)
>> Anonymous
>>72056945

WHO WAS MOM?
>> ­
some of these are good. others are retarded.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72070744
I FORGOT TO SAVE THAT ONE! GOOD EYE!
>> Anonymous
Is there some place I can find a compilation of the entire "holder series"?

The mental institution ones.
>> Anonymous
There is a video on Youtube named Mereana mordegard glesgorv. If you search this, you will find nothing. The few times you find something, all you will see is a 20 second video of a man staring intently at you, expressionless, then grinning for the last 2 seconds. The background is undefined. This is only part of the actual video. “The full video lasts 2 minutes, and was removed by Youtube after 153 people who viewed the video gouged out their eyes and mailed them to Youtube’s main office in San Bruno. Said people had also committed suicide in various ways. It is not yet known how they managed to mail their eyes after gouging them out. And the cryptic inscription they carve on their forearms has not yet been deciphered.
Youtube will periodically put up the first 20 seconds of the video to quell suspicions, so that people will not go look for the real thing and upload it. The video itself was only viewed by one Youtube staff member, who started screaming after 45 seconds. This man is under constant sedatives and is apparently unable to recall what he saw. The other people who were in the same room as him while he viewed it and turned off the video for him say that all they could hear was a high pitched drilling sound. None of them dared look at the screen. “The person who uploaded the video was never found, the IP address being non-existant. And the man on the video has never been identified.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72064540
>> Anonymous
>>72071091
Ya welcome, suh.
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
this was the creepiest thing i have ever heard
>> Anonymous
Gtfo with your creepypasta

/x/ is that way ------>
>> Anonymous
Since we're on the subject of creepy check out this vid of sasquatch screams

http://youtube.com/watch?v=k4wUqZxBwUI
>> Anonymous
>>72071051
>some of these are good. others are retarded.
/b/ in a nutshell
>> Anonymous !m/4IdQrarE
     File :-(, x)
>>72058079
shortest creepypasta, and it got me too... fuck it's been 12 minutes and I still haven't turned around.
>> Anonymous
>>72072296
I FUCKING KNEW IT!
>> Anonymous
>>72070355
whoa wha?
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
Well...WHAT IS IT??
>> Anonymous
>>72058317
I keep waiting for someone to mis-type/post that as "Your cock glows red..."
>> Anonymous
>>72068886
SAUCE?
>> Anonymous
http://www.editthis.info/scp_wiki/SCP_Series
>> Anonymous
>>72067948
But who was phone?
>> Anonymous
BUT WHO WAS THE GAME THE GAME THE GAME THE GAME?
>> Anonymous
>>72072833
GOT IT FROM SOME EPIC ARTWORK THREAD, YO. :E
>> Anonymous
>>72056811

666th frame is like 10 seconds into the movie
>> Anonymous
>>72057845
Best one so far, keep 'em coming!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
WHO WAS PHONE?!?!?!?!111
>> Anonymous
>>72066289
AAH SHIT MORE
>> Anonymous
>>72073588
your point being...
>> Anonymous
>>72072544
you're not the only one...
>> Anonymous
cursed youtube video = http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0
>> Anonymous
>>72053067

It has been identified last december.
The face was that of Commander John Shepard, Spectre and Bane of the Reapers.
>> Anonymous
>>72068435
I jumped slightly at the pic...
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72060853
So a crazy homeless told you the approximation of the name? that means he couldn't pronounce it and you damn sure couldn't spell it right.
>> Anonymous
There's a small, inconspicuous building called "Padraic Willoughsby and Co." in the industrial district of Birmingham, UK. Most of the time, its doors are locked and the windows are draped. However, on February 29th of every leap year, there will be a small plastic container outside the front door containing business cards. On the front of the card it says in large capital letters, "PADRAIC WILLOUGHSBY AND CO. ENGLAND'S THAUMATURGICAL SPECIALISTS". On the back, in nearly illegibly small type it says "The blood of the innocent." I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air'
I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suite case and send me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.
I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.
First class, yo this is bad
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass.
Is this what the people of Bel-Air Living like?
Hmmmmm this might be alright.
But wait I hear there're prissy, wine all that
Is Bel-Air the type of place they send this cool cat?
I don't think sow
I'll see when I get there
I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air
Well, the plane landed and when I came out
There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out
I ain't trying to get arrested
I just got here
I sprang with the quickness like lightening, disappeared
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab is rare
But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
>> Anonymous
DAMMIT!

I should NOT be reading this at night!
I can't go to sleep now....
>> Anonymous
Does anyone here like mspaint comics as much as me? Because I can deliver like crazy with them, too.
>> Anonymous
>>72074399
lolololol
>> Anonymous
Want to know how to not be scared? Have your housemate in the same room as you playing Sly Raccoon. Works like a charm.
>> Anonymous
>>72074566
pssshh, this one's better
>>72063845
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>>72072833
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zdzis%C5%82aw_Beksi%C5%84ski
This is the author of the Painting, which I acquired myself off Ebay, pic related. He produced some awesome stuff.
>> Anonymous
/r/ the sauce on the "Object X of 538"
>> Anonymous
>>72064630
Seems like a shitty ripoff of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lost_Room
>> Anonymous
wat, no Creepy-chan?
>> Anonymous
>>72075399
see
>>72068886
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
There are many people in the world who complain about the phenomenon of "Sleep Paralysis". People affected complain of experiencing full awareness, yet a complete inability to move. It doesn't usually last long and happens quite often.

A small percentage of sufferers have told of seeing the same shadow at the foot of the bed, some only see a shadow or a figure, others see what can only be described as an "Olg Hag". A wretched old woman is seen at the foot of the bed, she looks at you with empty eye sockets and makes her way towards you, slowly.

Once at the foot of the bed she continues her approach, silently she climbs on to the bed and crawls on boney knees on top of your chest, totally paralysed yet totally awake you can do nothing but look back through her thin grey hair into her empty eyes as she lurches over you. Her weight restricts your breathing and you start to panic as lowers her head and reaches for your neck.


These stories are true and are more likely to occur if you're trying to sleep with the old hag on your mind.


>> Bob
>>72074798
DELIVER
>> Anonymous
>>72075821
I used to get sleep paralysis, that shit was a pain in the ass.
>> Anonymous
http://www.editthis.info/scp_wiki/SCP_Series
>> Anonymous
>>72058715
what movie? may i have a link please
>> Anonymous
>>72075835
NEW THREAD WILL BE NEW
>> Anonymous
bump
>> Anonymous
I fair can't hack anymoar, i'm going to bed. Goodnight /b/.
>> Anonymous
>>72057845

i shat bricks.
>> Anonymous
>>72061348

True story
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_pass_accident
>> Bob
>>72058715
What movie??
>> Anonymous
>>72076537
It's a load of crap, too arty
>> Bob
>>72058715
What movie?? In before Rickroll
>> Anonymous
One day sum guy saw sum hot chick and was all like, "damn your fucking hot". she sed her name was kyle. the next day he told his mate, and his mate was like "lol she died 40 years ago" and the guy sd "dont giv a fuck i'd still fuck her silly"
>> Bob
I think the thread is officially dead >_>
>>72077221
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
"There was a family that lived here before you," recalled Mark's new neighbor, "they were a creepy lot."

Mark and his family had just moved to a new neighborhood and decided to get to know the neighbors. He was never one for scary stories, but he humored his new friend.

"Many people would enter that house. Very few would ever leave." said the man old man, speaking around his pipe. "Sure, rumors flew around the neighborhood. The neighborhood kids were convinced they were wallpapering with skin and weaving human hair into rugs."
The man pondered this, "Of course, nobody knew what was actually going on and, frankly, none of us would have been too surprised if this's what was going on in that hell house."
"Now, I'm sure they weren't that bad." said Mark
The man stared at him coldly, unamused.
"It was 12 years just a few weeks ago that my Belinda, God rest her soul, entered that damned house. She said we were all insane. Said we were being dramatic. Said she was going to prove to us all that they were perfectly nice people. She always was an optimist."
"They killed her?" asked Mark, concerned.
The man stared at the ceiling.
"I can't very well say what they did. Maybe they killed her. If she was lucky. There's no saying what that kind of family would do to her."
"What kind of family? What kind of family were these people?" asked Mark, scared for the safety of his family and his neighborhood.
The old man took a puff from his pipe, looked into mark's eyes, staring deep into his soul
"niggers"
>> BEKs, complete holder series, and more: Anonymous
>>72062869


http://www.freewebs.com/thekingofwolves/index.htm
>> Anonymous
There is a demon of great evil that will be able to walk upon the Earth if someone is told of its existence and does not repeat the name to another. To the best of my ability, his name roughly approximates "Jkqxxllyuo".

This was told to me by a rather unkempt man on the street; if you have not noticed it already, I just told it to you.
>> Anonymous
There is a demon of great evil that will be able to walk upon the Earth if someone is told of its existence and does not repeat the name to another. To the best of my ability, his name roughly approximates "Jkqxxllyuo".

This was told to me by a rather unkempt man on the street; if you have not noticed it already, I just told it to you.
>> Anonymous
No.72078083

no sleep for me tonight then, thanks dick
>> Anonymous
>>72078083

fucking win
>> Anonymous
>>72078479
>roughly approximates
enjoy your demonic apocalypse
>> anonymous
>>72054695
i have that same phone at my desk
>> Anonymous
>>72052189
Is that sum Abu Ghraib?
>> Anonymous
O.k... Archive this shit,

72052189
>> Anonymous
there is a certain place in the world with a shelf. In this shelf is a book by the title of " Biscuit Bands". If you open this book, pine cone niggers.
>> Anonymous
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
>>72078083
THE BEST
>> Anonymous
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7973225371449473825&q=begotten&ei=XDQVSPeQIIGMrgL2_
|

bam. that movie
>> Anonymous
voted for archival
>> Anonymous
now see
>>72076416

for more from the swamp posting guy
>> Anonymous
>>72081137
shitty MS paint thread though
>> Anonymous
>>72079949
So far this movie can be summed up as amature footage of Michael j. Fox shaving.
>> Bob
>>72081784
With a hacksaw. While heavily sedated.
>> Anonymous
>>72057016
>>72058473
>>72057845
>>72058168
>>72058592
>>72058982
>>72059196
>>72059368
>>72059614
>>72059716
>>72059902
>>72060204
>>72060427
>>72060701
>>72060947
>>72061174
>>72061824
>>72062053
>>72062179
>>72062377
>>72062639
>>72062746
>>72063243
>>72063805
>>72064540
>>72066224
AWESOMES
>> Anonymous
>>72081922
Also tits at 10mins in , heres hoping it turns into an artsy porn movie.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72083382
Pic ruined when I visualized the letters G U I S E slowly flowing out of the screaming girl's mouth, one by one.
>> Anonymous
>>72078083
>>72079169
lol wut
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
>>72058064
AWWWWW, THAT'S FRIENDLY
>> Anonymous
The spooky-potential of Creepypasta tends to be blunted when one is listening to "Little Girls" (Oingo Boingo) while reading it.
>> Anonymous
>>72075821

it's not always an old hag, sometimes it can be a tall man or a jackal.

Three nights ago one of those fuckers woke me up in my dorm room. I'm on a loft bed, so I'm lying asleep about 6 feet off the ground, and my eyes open (I'm sleeping on my side) and I see this silhouette of a seven-foot tall man standing just to the left of my feet, and a hand reaching towards my face. Poor roommate got all pissed off when I screamed. It's a good thing he's in here, sometimes I fear for my safety from the things I see.
>> Anonymous
>>72085141
The spooky-potential of Creepypasta tends to be sharpened when one is listening to "Absolute Silence" (Quiet Stillness) while reading it.
>> Anonymous
>>72061348
>>72061348
>>72061348
>>72061348
>>72061348
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_pass_accident

HOLY FUCKING SHIT
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
>> Anonymous
There is a demon of great evil that will be able to walk upon the Earth if someone is told of its existence and does not repeat the name to another. To the best of my ability, his name roughly approximates "Jkqxxllyuo".

This was told to me by a rather unkempt man on the street; if you have not noticed it already, I just told it to you.
>> Anonymous
gb2/x/
>> Anonymous
>>72085936
I don't get it...