File :-(, x, )
Anonymous
Does /b/ have any good creepypasta to share tonight? I dont want to sleep.


Picture unrelated.
>> Anonymous
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 an infant with no flesh and 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 occured within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper and will be devoid of all human emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed and lost to you forever. 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 with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.
>> Anonymous
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. This ringing sound actually serves a more arcane purpose, covering up a noise we are not meant to hear. This noise is not impossible to hear, and if you are persistent you can effectively "break" the cover-up sound. The next time you are silent and hear the ringing, shout at the top of your lungs for about half a minute, then be abruptly silent. It will be different for everyone. Some will hear nothing different for dozens of tries. Others might pick up soft murmuring. A special few auditory heroes might clearly make it out on the first attempt.
>> Anonymous
>>90679938

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 into the future. 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. 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. Now, of course you are wondering what sort of horrible catch this ability entails. 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, it's simply a matter of noticing. But there is a danger. For you see, where there is a voice, there is a body. And just like you will notice new sounds, so shall you notice new sights. More importantly, you will be noticed.
>> Anonymous
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.

Don't look back up.

Don't turn your back to that mirror ever again.
>> Sam Amador
>>90679747
REALLY THATS THE COOLEST. IM GONNA TRY IT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>> Anonymous
The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse moldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. If you were to put the 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
>>90680181
Wtf.
>> Anonymous
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
>> Anonymous
A 15-year old boy in a small town in Maryland sat down at his computer after getting home from school one day. He turned it on and logged into an instant messaging program, and was then suprised to receive a message from a classmate of his, who had been absent that day.

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

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

When the police arrived, they found three corpses, as well as tracks leading away from the house from the back door. The forensics report concluded that the entire family, the boy's classmate and his parents, had been killed sometime the previous night.
>> Anonymous
During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time.

Although the scene was originally labeled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm's well (which had apparently dried up earlier that year).

Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. For the remaining 45 minutes of video, until the batteries in the camera died, it remained in its stationary position.

To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well, or why the height and stature of the woman in the video didn't come close to matching the body they'd found in the oven.
>> Anonymous
>>90680363

Wait. So I would have to watch that frame from every horror movie ever made in the past AND the future? Fuck that.
>> Anonymous
A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out, 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
>>90680518
OSHI-
>> Anonymous
>>90680363
That creeped me out
Fuck.
>> Anonymous
You try to sleep, but the noises keep you awake. It's like something's scratching on wood. And growling. You tell yourself it's only the wind, and only the trees outside, but the sound goes on. And on. And on. Finally, you just can't take it. You stand up, turning the lights on. The sound is coming from your front door. You walk into the living room on unsteady legs, and the growling gets louder, the scraping more pronounced, more... vicious. With shaking hands, you reach for the telephone... and the noises stopped. Like they never were there. For what feels like hours, you stand there with the phone in your hand, waiting for the sounds to begin again. Thy never do. Finally, heart in your throat, unable to stop yourself, you walk to the door. You open it... on the night air. Nothing. You study the door. It should be almost clawed to pieces, you could have swore you heard the wood start to give. But it's unmarked. You shake your head. Just your imagination. Then you close the door. The claw marks are on the inside.
>> 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
A recent study by the National Psychiatric Institute in Boston, MA, concluded that no activity can account for the phenomenon known as nightmares. Whereas many dreams come from unconscious desires, most nightmares seem to come from an outside source independent of the individual. In fact, when subjects are asked to recall nightmares they are almost always found in the same memory section as actual physical memories, not the section where normal dreams are replayed. In other words, those aliens and creatures you see at night in your "dreams?" They're real.
>> Anonymous
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 and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, 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
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?
A note saying "This is the last one I am sending you today."
>> Anonymous
>>90679228

WHO WAS PHONE!?
>> Anonymous
A young lady driving alone down the highway one night say a large gray-haired woman slowly walking along the side of the road. She pulled over and offered the old woman a ride. As they rode along, the women made small-talk. As the old lady offered her a stick of gum, she noticed the old woman's hands were very wide and the knuckles were badly scarred, she also saw how incredibly hairy the woman's arm was. Realizing her mistake, she swerved and said she thought she'd hit something, then she stopped and asked the old lady if she'd take a look. When the old lady was behind the car, the girl sped off. The young girl immediately felt guilty realizing that she had probably just been an old woman, and in her nervousness she had behaved very badly. She felt even worse when she notice the old woman's purse sitting in the floor of the passenger side. Realizing she couldn't just go on with it, she lifted it from the floor and saw that inside it was filled with wallets, watches and jewelry and a large bloody hunting knife.
>> Anonymous
Remember this -

Should you ever despair of life so much that you want to die, you have the means at hand and yearn to end your life, you have written a suicide note to those you will leave behind and you are prepared to die... at that moment, stop.

Get a pair of scissors. Cut away at the note until you end up with a piece of paper in the shape of a key. Go to a door, any one will do. Push the paper key forward and turn your hand as if unlocking an imaginary lock.

The lock is real. Open the door. There you will find it. The other earth. The one that awaits to replace this one when it dies. That death is inevitable, but in the meantime the other earth will belong to you.

Be warned: the other earth is very different from this one.
>> 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 timespan. The nearest church however, is over 32 miles away. You will find no one out on the streets in these faithful 30 seconds, and even the birds will stop whistling.

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

The next dawn, the bells will be struck 27 times.
>> Anonymous
In winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee.

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

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

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

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

None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
>> Anonymous
>>90681085

ooooo
>> Anonymous
>>90681085
that sent shivers down my spine
>> Anonymous
A mother receives a letter from her son, who is a POW in a foreign country. The letter reads "Don't worry, Mom, I'm okay, they treat us fine. I will probably be released within the next few months. Please make sure Timmy gets the stamp to add to his collection." The mother is relieved to hear her son is alright, but is confused, because neither she or her son know any "Timmys". She decided to steam the stamp off the envelope. When she examined the stamp, she found writing on the back. It said, "they've cut off my legs".
>> Anonymous
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
>>90680930
HOLY SHIT!!!! jeez i got goose bumps from that
>> Anonymous
You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you. You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now. You then drop the phone in shock.

There are no footprints in the snow. It's his reflection.
>> Anonymous
>>90681277

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

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No angel staue was ever found.
>> Anonymous
you're scaring me. It's awesome.
>> Anonymous
>>90682272

fuck dude
>> Anonymous
Well that's all I got. If someone has more post it, I'd love to expand my collection.
>> Anonymous
>>90681277

has anyone seen this video?
>> Anonymous
>>90682685
Thanks /b/. I will never sleep again.
>> Anonymous
>>90683218
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UbCCMFUPus

not a rickroll, I promise
>> Anonymous
It has been reported that some victims of rape, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not WAKE UP. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren't being raped. The only way that they realized they needed to WAKE UP was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to WAKE UP. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP.
>> Anonymous
fucking creepy...
>> Anonymous
>>90683644
OH SHI-
>> Anonymous
Somewhere in West Philadelphia , you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.

After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles, and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.

With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will suddenly realize that cabs like these are extremely hard to find, do not bear any thought to it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be sometime between over 9000 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo homes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.

If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
mind blown
>> Anonymous
>>90682685

creepy creepy creepy...
>> Anonymous
>>90684298
i give it a 9/10
>> Anonymous
>>90684298
lol'd
>> Anonymous
>>90681277

has anyone seen this video?>>90683489

I dare someone to watch this
>> Anonymous
>>90683489
has anyone watched the vid? i got 22 seconds into it. it only felt like 5 seconds though. it's so creepy.
>> Anonymous
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK IM SCARED
>> Anonymous
>>90684940
I fucking refuse.
>> Anonymous
>>90682685
I was told this one, but it was a midget in a clown suit
>> Anonymous
>>90684940
It's dumb
>> Anonymous
>>90685150
I watched the whole thing, it's really nothing
>> Anonymous
now how do i stop being scared
>> Anonymous
>>90685482
yeah I watched all the variations, most just have joke endings
>> Anonymous
The Dead
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XPW_rrpx3U

Fukken scary.
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
MOAR!
>> BOBNONYMOUS
>>90683644
>>90683644


That is fucking evil
>> Anonymous
One night, Jessica was babysitting for the Harlingtons. The parents told her that the kids should be in bed by 8:30 and she was free to watch TV for the rest of the night until they got home. So, 8:30 rolled around and after a struggle, the kids were in bed.
She hops on the couch and flicks on the TV to hear "-and police are unsure of his whereabouts" before changing to watch cartoons.

She gets a little freaked out and decides to check on the kids. They are both sleeping. She calls the parents, it's now about 10:00 and the parents should be home by now. She calls, and masks the call by asking where the extra blankets are. The dad tells her that they are downstairs in the closet. She asks him to stay on the phone while she looks.

"The closet next to the clown statue?" she asks.
"We don't have a clown statue in the basement..." says the father.

She is horrified and runs to check on the kids. They are no longer in their beds. The line goes dead.
>> Anonymous
>>90684298
rofl

that's what i needed after being creeped the fuck out by all this.

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

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No nigger staue was ever found.
>> Anonymous
God, all this myspace faggotry.
>> Anonymous
my curiosity tells me to watch that video.
someone hold me.
>> Anonymous
>>90686729

Oh SHIT!
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
Rumor has it that this woman could be the President of the United States of America next year.
>> Anonymous
>>90680046
>>90679938
That is awesome. I'd try it if I wouldn't look like a fucking loon sitting there dead quiet then shouting out loud for 30 seconds all of a sudden then shutting up again.
>> Anonymous
When I was younger, I lived with my father and his mother. I was the only child, a girl at that, and my father was very protective of me. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated me. At first, she would just yell at me and shove me around when dad was at work. It escalated, quickly after he started working longer house to make ends meet. I rarely saw my father at that point. For 4 years, she did things I can't even bring myself to really think about, not enough to write it. For those 4 years, I prayed and prayed for release. I prayed and wished for her to die. To God, to whoever would listen. My dad probably would have believed me if I'd had a chance to talk to him, but she'd made me feel as though I were an abomination over the years that, I coudn't bear it anymore. After she killed my kitten and made me bury it, at the age of 13, I attempted suicide by hanging myself inside my closet.

Apparently, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and the bar in the closet that I tied myself to fell on my head and knocked me the fuck out. I pulled myself up and headed to sneak into the bathroom without the monster cunt to catch me and give me another beating. As I left my bedroom, I caught a whiff of something very fucking rancid, like vomit, burning flesh, and blood, mixed together, warm. I knew all of these smells fairly well, considering what my grandmother did to me, and I thought for a moment it might have been my imagination, or her making something disgusting for me to eat to torture me more. While I recognized the seperate smells in a way, I'd never smelled something like this.
>> Anonymous
>>90688685
As I got closer and closer to the stairs overlooking the living room, which was right across from the bathroom, I started to hear something. Faintly, I remember hearing it a few feet back, but suddenly it seemed so much louder. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and all I could hear was gurgle, smack smack, squish squish, RIIIIIIIIIP. The mere idea of peeking over the stairs and into the living room was suddenly so profoundly frightening that I almost just went back into my bedroom, but strangely enough, it was amazingly easy to just do it anyway.

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

My grandmother was lying on the ground. There was someone wearing black kneeling over her. They were both covered in blood. The person's head was moving rhythmically over its hands, which held what I the relized was some organ in her body. The person didn't look up, and I was scared silent.

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

The sound of gnawing, the smacking mouth, the snapping of her organs at they were ripped from my grandmother's body (what was left of it), the brutally grotesque sight of her chest cavity having been torn open, of her body being consumed little by little filled me with terror I had never known before. I didn't know what to do. It ate her body, slowly, seeming to enjoy every bite it took, its body swaying and moving so unnaturally that I couldn't even think it was human.
>> Anonymous
>>90688865
I couldn't stop watching, I couldn't run away, the sheer terror of it choked the scream I would have let out. It stopped, I stopped. It looked up at me after what seemed an eternity, releasing the contents of its mouth. Gorey pieces and blood, some brown at that point, covered most of its face. What I could see of the face, it seemed to be male, very pale in patches. Where eyes were supposed to be were black pits, pits that seemed to dilate, expand and retract. He had no lips, but his mouth twitched, like some kind of hologram going in and out, slowly smiling, the smile expanding beyond normal human ability. I vomited and fainted.

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

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

I still have dreams about that man, sometimes I think I see him in public. Even when I don't see him, I can feel him there. He's always there, watching me.
>> Anonymous
n 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 child-like fear come over the workers face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to themselves echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.

Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, and 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 answers your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, and 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, if you do your death will be that of cruelty and unrelenting horror. Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.

This object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never.
>> Anonymous
On the 3rd of December, find a hand-held mirror, just large enough to cover your face. Cover your face with the reflective side out, walk into the bathroom, turn the light on, and stand in front of the larger mirror. At exactly 11:34pm, raise the hand-held mirror above your head.

What is in the larger mirror will not be staring back at you, nor will it be your reflection.

Very carefully walk out of the bathroom, backwards, not lowering the hand-held mirror until the one in the bathroom is completely out of view.

If you do not, what you saw in the mirror will notice, and realize what you have done...
>> Anonymous
>>90689046
that seems rather realistic, like some childish fantasy of what happened to someone, lol idk
>> Anonymous
>>90680930
ohmygod
>> Anonymous
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift as the Angel Statue begins to stir, it is object 9, it must never look in a mirror.
>> Anonymous
So I'm chilling at my gram's one time, I'm maybe 6 or over 9000, my sister is 4 years older. Her house was not creepy. Frankly, the opposite. I had no deep-seated emotional issues with her; she never whipped my ass with a coat hanger or anything. So the following experience taking place in this environment is all the more exceptional to me, considering I've never had another "supernatural" experience.

After a long day of kicking ass and eating delicious treats, whatever 6 year old boys do, I was tuckered out and it was time for bed. Whenever we stayed at my grandmother's house, my sister and I slept in sleeping bags on the floor of the guest room. Normally, back home at white middle class HQ, I had my own room. I wasn't used to sleeping in a room with my sister, who was my mortal nemesis. She was the instigator. She was the antagonist. After she finally gets tired of pissing me off and passes out, I drift off into peaceful slumber.

Time passes. I bolt upright, directly out of some GI Joe dream and directly into pants pissing. I was awoken by the loudest sound that I, to this day, have ever heard. It is the sound of my sister laughing hysterically. I use "hysteria" in the medical sense of a person with nothing left to guide them, a laughter with no reason, a laughter without the safety net of eventuality, without the underpinnings of reason. It was a horrible, desperate, inhuman gasping. From the moment I awoke it was loud enough to be painful, and each rasping guffaw was growing in volume. Within moments, I was huddled in the corner covering my ears, screaming my sister's name over and over. I was as desperate as the laughter. The pain of the sound was invading my body, and the madness within it was invading my mind.
>> Anonymous
>>90690700
When you wake up quickly, your vision needs a few moments to adjust, even though you haven't been in a bright environment. Everything that had happened so far was within the timeframe of my eyes adjusting to the darkness. As I sat in the corner screaming, I was trying to find my sister to see what was wrong, because even though she was a cunt, she was my fucking sister and anyone making those noises was experiencing something I couldn't even comprehend at that age.

I expected her to be running around the room, clawing at the walls, but when my night vision finally stabilized, she was still on the floor, in her pink sleeping bag, a couple of feet from me. She wasn't moving. Her mouth and eyes were closed, and she seemed to still be in deep sleep. The sound, the rasping howl, was obviously her. The direction of the sound even seemed to come from her. The volume of it had invaded me, and seemingly everything, but looking at her was knowing that she was the nexus.

Finally panic took over and I jumped for her to try and shake her out of it. Right when I reached her, one hand on her shoulder, her head swiveled to face me. Eyes closed, still asleep, the certainty, precision, and languid nature of the movement was at odds with the laughter. The laughter, still swelling in power, was past the point of control. It's always the small things that fuck with you, and that smooth movement of her head turning to face me was like she was on rails. It was like someone had picked up her head with unseen hands and gingerly turned to face me. Right when I recoiled, not knowing how to cope, I woke up outside.
>> Anonymous
>>90690795
I was in the backyard, my pajamas slicked with the pre-dawn dew. Face up. No laughter. I started crying, not knowing why I was there or what had happened to my sister. I ran inside via the side door in the garage, as everything else was always locked tight at night. I was right about to run into the room my parents slept in when I heard pounding on the patio glass. It was my sister, and she was outside, trying to get in. She was weeping too.
>> Anonymous
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
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
>>90680518
>>90680518
>>90680518
>>90680518

i don't get it!!! someone explain now!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>90691060
wat, is that the end?
>> Anonymous
>>90691580
Its a pun based on two stories that have been posted here.. i lol'd at it
>> Anonymous
>>90691580
The thing wearing mommy's skin. Mommy is some sort of horrible monster.
>> noko Anonymous
keep em coming
>> Anonymous
     File :-(, x)
So a couple of weeks ago I was in the bathroom. I broke my back as a young child and even though I can still walk, run, et cetera, I get a sore back very frequently, and a good soak in the tub can relieve some of the pain.

So, at about 2:30 AM (I work a night shift; on my days off I am up to some crazy hours) I draw a bath, get my soak on, and prepare to feel the pain disappear.

After about five minutes, I can feel the pain unwinding. I am starting to fall asleep when I see a skitter of movement out of my periphery. I turn and there is the biggest spider I have ever seen.

I don't mean "kind of big". I don't mean "not small". I mean this shit was tarantula-sized and he was staring me down from the five feet or so between tub and door.

I am massively arachnophobic and as such my first instinct is to fight or flee. Since the spider is blocking my (no doubt dramatic) escape, my next move is to stand there and start yelling. The spider, who I now unconsciously refer to as "Parthanon", takes great offense to this and starts walking towards me. Slowly. Purposefully.
>> Anonymous
>>90682508
There is a video on youtube by that name, but the rest is BS. Even if you find the 2min+ version, it just sits there for a minute or so and starts making a loud whirring noise. Other than that it doesn't do shit.
>> Anonymous
>>90691743
Yeah, that was it. I let her in and we just stayed up all night with the TV blaring pretty much scared silent until our parents woke up and yelled at us for watching TV.
We don't really talk about it, we kinda both know that something happened that was absolutely frightening and we are going to leave it at that.
>> Anonymous
It is at this point that I lose my shit. With a dramatic and heroic battle cry ("OH FUCK NOOOOOO") I snatch a book off of the tank of my toilet and hurl it at Parthanon as hard as I can.

I have never thrown something so accurately in my life. The book hits Parthanon dead-on, right on the abdomen, with the spine of the book. I am standing there now, completely naked, dripping wet, and fucking freezing, panting with adrenaline and terror. I have killed it, I think.

I am wrong. Parthanon starts scuttling towards the bath tub at top speed, and now I know it is fucking go time. It is either time to escape or die trying. With another book in hand, I leapt over the mammoth arachnid, hurled the book down while in mid-air (striking Parthanon, yet again, with maximum force) and, hoping that it would be distracted long enough not to kill me, I open the bathroom door, hurl myself into the tile hallway, and proceed to fall down trying to get away.

I rolled over, looking at the book now lying flat on the bathroom linoleum. Could it be, I guessed? I'm no Arnold, but surely Parthanon could not have survived my two adrenaline-fueled impromptu missiles, right?

Wrong. The book slides off as I watch and now that spider is fucking furious. It is running at me as fast as possible and I am now screaming at the top of my lungs. Incoherently. I would later learn from my neighbours that I was screaming "FUCK" over and over again.
>> Anonymous
>>90692196
wait, this is OC?
>> Anonymous
But I digress. Parthanon was now approaching me at top speed and my only option left was dire. I hurled myself to my feet, threw myself backwards, grabbed a shoe, and prepared to throw down.

After picking myself up, I crouched in preparation for the final battle. I knew I would only have one chance, and since I used to watch tons of bushido samurai movies, I knew that in battle the combatant who makes the first move usually loses.

I waited, muscles coiled like springs, and Parthanon finally made his mistake. Coming for my feet, he was completely oblivious to my overhand shoe-swing, and I splattered him as hard as possible.

Again. And again. And again. I'm pretty sure I was screaming during this too.
>> Anonymous
Go into your bathroom late at night. Try lighting some candles in front of the mirror to form a pentagram. Get some lipstick or other marking substance that is red, and draw the pentagram, candles acting as vertices. Now pray your hardest to Satan that your soul will be destroyed, and no light will reach you for the rest of your life. A phrase will be spoken to you in a hellish voice that resembles hissing. A loud crash will be heard, DO NOT LOOK IN THE MIRROR. After the crash is finished, quietly count from one to twenty. Do not make any noises or sudden movements. Now say the name of somebody you dislike six times. A year from the summoning, they will die a horrible death, with a long object (pole, spear...) impaled through the right side of the chest, where the heart would be if it was on the right side.

I suggest you don't touch a Bible for a week after this.
>> Anonymous
>>90692196
oc on my /b/???
>> Anonymous
>>90691985
fail
>> Anonymous
WHO WAS PHONE
>> Anonymous
An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn't sure 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 hesitantly, "I don't believe this, but there's no harm in trying. 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
>>90692049
>>90692288
>>90692802

That's the second best story I've ever heard. First one being that guy who ripped lolis in half shouting "I AM THOR!"
>> Anonymous
His internal organs and strange, arachnid gore were splattered - I am not exaggerating - probably two feet in diameter. I picked up his corpse, took him to the toilet, and flushed it no less than fifteen times, my arms and face a gory, sticky mass of spider viscera.

The only positive side of this tale is that I have yet to see a single spider in my house since. I can only hope that I killed the patriarch spider and that my house is now listed, in their extensive spider networks, as a forbidden zone.

Yes, this happened to me, the OP. Yes, I know there is no such thing as a patriarch spider and that is not how they work.

No, I will never be in a bathroom without the lights on ever, ever again.
>> Anonymous
I am Thomas' 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... and he plunged them 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)
>>90681277
I see what you did there.
>> Anonymous
bumppppppp
>> Anonymous
i can has more creepypasta?
>> Anonymous
Before going to sleep at night, leave a TV in your room on a channel with only static. Then say "I await you, absolute abomination, bearer of the abhorrent mark." After this, lay down, close your eyes and try to sleep. Do not reopen your eyes. When you awake in the morning, you will realize that you are actually reliving the day before, but have aged 3 years. If, however, you do open your eyes, you will find sitting at the end of your bed a pale white, bald man, stripping skin off of his arms and torso, and feeding it to himself, staring into the TV. On his neck is what appears to be an archaic tattoo of some sort. Once you see him, he will become aware of you. He will turn his face to you. His mouth is dripping with his own blood, and his eyelids have been burned shut over his eyes. If you do not speak to him, he will sit in place, grinning at you until you fall asleep, after which you will not awake. If you do dare speak to him, ask him who he is. He will tell you that he is "The Absolute Abomination. I am the bearer of the abhorrent mark. I am the deliverer of mercy, and the keeper hate. I am the summoned. I am the servant of horror." At this point he will offer his hand to you, in it will be a piece of his flesh. Take it from him, and sink your teeth into it. He will utter "Feels good man..."
>> Anonymous
MOAR!!!!!!
>> Anonymous
>>90695251

dork : p
>> Anonymous
>>90695788

Thank you. I take requests also.
>> Anonymous
>>90695251
I lol'd.

I like the kid who had his grandma killed. Makes me think of the Dark Brotherhood.
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
I have non-copypasta ghost stories from friends, family and myself if anyone is interested.
>> Anonymous
I fucking LOL'd at the Parthanon one, very well written, nice one anon.
>> Anonymous
>>90696501
yes.
go
>> Anonymous
>>90696501
sure
>> Anonymous
>>90695868

do a barrel roll, haha : p
>> Anonymous
>>90696781

Impossible, you think I'm a fuckin wizard or something? Like Lincoln? No, I don't possess the hat required. I do, however, own a monocle.
>> Anonymous
I found a homeless man in the street the other day. He was staring at nothing, just lying against a trash can, holding a paper bag. I took out a dollar, and was thinking about giving it to him, but I realized he was't interested when I saw the blood pooling around his thigh. It'd been leaking out of his cuff; He must have slit his wrists, or maybe someone shanked him. I don't know. Curiously enough, I wasn't worried at all. I just stood there, thinking about whether or not I should call the cops or something.
>> Anonymous
>>90696996

haha, i love it. I suppose maybe we're both dorks, eh?
>> Anonymous
>>90697452

I will lay claim to the title. I also lay claim to Miles, Lord of Batlord, and The Baby Puncher.
>> Anonymous
Anyway, I just felt calm and peaceful looking at him. He seemed restful - except for his eyes. They were open and staring at nothing. So I leaned over and tried to close one of them. It opened again, and he turned and looked at me. Apparently, he was just waiting to die, not there yet though. He mumbled something at me, and stretched out his hand toward me. His wrist was dripping blood pretty solidly. I reached out to take his hand, but I found that as I moved closer to him, I just got angry. I wanted him to stay peaceful, and this wasn't peaceful.
>> Anonymous
>>90695251
MOAR, DORK, MOAR!
>> Anonymous
MOAR DORK MOAR
>> Anonymous
Please does anyone have the "Humans can lick too" creepypasta? I LOVE that one!
>> SnakeMassager !3XUOsgxA2I
I love pasta.
>> Anonymous
You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to

the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken

breasts.

After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store.

The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage."

Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It

opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags,

each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call

out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the

couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother.

Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for

nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give

your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the

crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked

into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says.

You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do

they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?"

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

some bread and cereal too."

"No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."
>> Anonymous
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 an old, mysterious-looking book called "Death". The cover
was covered in faded runes, and the book seemed to chill the very air surrounding it. 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 haunted him, and 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 the MSRP: $over 9000.99.
>> Miles !!lm7VKFK/FyC
>>90698057
>>90698400

I'll give you more I guess. Give me like 20 mins though. I don't have shit typed up and waiting around to give you people. It's all off the top of my head. You people may remember me with my epic of charles like a month ago. It was about a young man named charles who was in a romantic relationship with a horse named dennis who was killed by old man jenkins who wanted Charles to himself? It was full of horse fuckin. And good. But anyway, I'll post under the same name, so just watch /b/ for a new thread by me. I'm off to write for a few. Peace niggas.
>> Anonymous
>>90697951

haha, nice. you're not tits or gtfo, are you? nah of course not, you're way too epic.
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
>>90696710
>>90696641
Ok, well I'll get the ball rolling with a couple involving me.

First one is from back when I was just a baby, probbly about one year old.
Apparrently my great grandmother was very fond of me when I was born, and always enjoyed spending time watching me/looking after me/whatever.
Anyway, she died when I was only a baby (not yet quite 1 year old). But for some reason after she died, every time my mother would put me to bed and close my bedroom door. For whatever reason, after a few hours my door would open and my mum would go in to find me awake and cheerful. Regardless of the fact that I was too small and uncoordinated to climb out of my cot/crib top open the door (and climbing back in was definitely out of the question), the door was always closed securely so it couldn't open and have outside noise wake me up, and even when no windows were open in the house and there was no draft to open the door, it would still open and I'd be found awake and happy.
Co-incidentally, my great grandmother and great grandfather bought an old grandfather clock for my grandparents as a wedding present. When my great grandfather died, the clock stopped at the same time he was pronounced dead in hospital. The same thing happened when my great grandmother died.
>> Miles !!lm7VKFK/FyC
>>90699178

I would have said orgasmic, but I'll take epic.
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
>>90699225
Ok, we're fast forwarding about 19 years to last year in the house I currently live in.
We've lived in this house for about 3 years now, and before us it was inhabited by an old man who shot himself somewhere in the home (which is an odd cause of death in Australia). Nobody knows which room he killed himself in, my dad never asked the real estate agent and doesn't want to know. Anyway, one day about a year or so back I was walking around the house bored out of my mind. My dad had kept some small bouncy balls on the kitchen counter from when we were younger, just never threw them out. Being as bored as I was and looking for something to occupy me, I picked up a bright green ball off of the counter and started bouncing it. After a while I just threw it against the glass sliding doors that go from out kitchen to our back deck, it bounces off and goes into the bathroom adjacent to our kitchen. I walked in to see the ball on the floor in the corner of the bathroom. I picked it up, thought to myself, "What the hell? Why not?" and threw it against the bathroom door. It bounced off and went into the kitchen. I walked back out into the kitchen to go get it and couldn't find it anywhere. I looked all over the floor, under chairs, between our t­wo fridges, even in stupid spots like behind the stove and shit. As I was walking around looking for it, I saw a small but bright green object in the corner of my eye. I looked over and saw the ball, exactly where I had picked it up from, as if someone had just dropped it there.
>> Anonymous
>>90699225
0/10
>> Anonymous
>>90699435

so samefag>>90698057
>>90698400requests moar, dork, moar : p

you gonna come through, oh epic orgasmic one?
>> Miles !!lm7VKFK/FyC
>>90699996

Those others were not be, but were prolly samefag. And yes, I am working on another story right now. Just gimme a minute damnit. You doubleniggerfaggots are so impatient. I'll link over to it when its finished in it's new thread.
>> Anonymous
>>90700256

mebbe you should stop hittin f5 and get to writin, amirite?
>> Miles !!lm7VKFK/FyC
>>90700485

You are, but I'm addicted to the attention.
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
>>90699729
At first I wasn't sure what to make of the extremely bizarre and long odds of that ball landing exactly where I'd picked it up from, consideirng I'd just bounced it off a door from another room to get it there. But ok, whatever, it's a lucky shot.
Anyway about 10 or so months back (I can't remember if it was late last year or early this year, I think early this year but could be mistaken) I was in my room, playing a PC game or watching TV or something. ANyway, I looked at the clock next to my TV, it was about 1:30am and I was starting to get tired. I figured I'd go brush my teeth and call it a night.
I got up and walked down our hallway through the loungeroom to the kitchen I mentioned earlier. Oddly, the room was dark and empty (my brothers are both kinda night owls, one especially, and is usually up playing games in a small dining annex between our loungeroom and the kitchen. ANyway, I kept walking out to the bathroom, pissed, washed my hands, brushed my teeth, turned the lights off and started back up the hallway towards my room at the front end of the house. As I'm passing through the loungeroom I'm walking less than a foot away from a couch and feel something brush me on my arm. It felt like a hand. At first I thought it was one of my brothers who'd fallen asleep on the lounge or something. But I looked down and the lounge was empty. There was noone in the room. Just me. Oddly enough, initially I wasn't weirded out, just a bit bewildered and went, "Meh," and walked off to bed. It was only on later reflection that it weirded me out a bit more.
>> Anonymous
>>90700707

yeah, i don't know about you, but here it's 2:31, i have nothing else going on, heh.
>> Anonymous
>>90700256
You're the fucking internet dammit. You're supposed to have everything now!
RULE 34 ON FERRETS GO!
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
>>90699828
Fuck you, it's true. YOu do better.
>> Anonymous
>>90700771

go on...
>> Storyman !/xxVLdE0Uc
>>90701481
That's pretty much it for that one. Other than that sometimes I hear a knocking in my room in the middle of the night. It sounds like something is trying to perhaps open my bedroom cupboard from the inside. But that one is more likely to be wood fatigue, given how old the cupboard is.

Those are the only ones that involve me, the rest come from friends, family members and other people I've met.
>> Miles !!lm7VKFK/FyC
>>90702287

There you go people. It may be worth your while.
>> Anonymous
>>90702012

they know that you know. they're watching you. we're watching you.