The scary thread
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Not exactly scary, but creepy to me. And true.
One night, me and my brother were outside in my backyard. It's around 3 a.m. Winter time, pitch black. We're chatting, enjoying ourselves.
All of a sudden, we both clearly hear a little girl giggle.
Didn't go in my backyard alone for months.
One night, me and my brother were outside in my backyard. It's around 3 a.m. Winter time, pitch black. We're chatting, enjoying ourselves.
All of a sudden, we both clearly hear a little girl giggle.
Didn't go in my backyard alone for months.
aaaargh.. i hate scary stuff like this.. But still i cant stop myself from reading them and getting freaked out... Why do i do this? i dont like beeing scared..
He hadn't left any messages because she killed him. She went back and he hadn't moved because she killed him. She killed the sheep. She's waiting for his parents. She's going to kill them too. She's out of her frickin' mind(s)!InnerRebellion said:
By a remarkable coincidence, my back has scars from a bisexual who dressed only in black.ahlycks said:
The scary part is how very much more turned on she became when she saw how much of my blood she had on her hands.
I miss her.
It's "than" not "then" you fool.Anti-gravity said:
Did anyone else take the time to read 'The Terrible Secret of Animal Crossing?' That scared me SHITLESS. And now I will never play Wild World again.
And I will probably have to take down my poster.
So thanks.
Sorry, nothing to contribute I'm afraid. I don't often go looking for this sort of thing.
And I will probably have to take down my poster.
So thanks.
Sorry, nothing to contribute I'm afraid. I don't often go looking for this sort of thing.
BOO! 
It's "than" not "then" you fool.[/quote]Anti-gravity said:
Well, I've been "one-upped" by a grammar Nazi.
Oh boy, I can tell visiting this thread was a bad idea. I don't have much thugh except a few personal experiences. Only one of them, scary as fuck.
<spoiler=Great Grand Mother>When my Great Grand Mother past away when I was about eight years old strange things began to happen. My room than was the only bedroom on the first floor. Just above my bedroom door was a large shelf. For about two weeks after she died a very bright light would appear on that shelf every night. Not really scary now that I think of it, but it was damn scary when I was eight.
<spoiler=Abandoned baracks>Several months ago, I had a friend who lived on base, shortly before he moved, he, our friend Jarrel, and I decided to check out this old building in the cnter of the base that were baracks. Now, here's the creepy thing. We observed that building for two days. Day and night shifts. Not a sing Marine entered or left that building. Now, before you say, oh, they've porbably been deployed. No, no one on that base has been deployed for eight months before that. One night, being the dumbasses we were, decided to sneak into the building. But, to save ourself from shitting our pants in fear, we went at three in the afternoon. Allbut one door was locked, which was a heavy duty blast door. We went in and observed. Everything looked normal save no one being inside other than us. Now, the sun was high that day but no light got in. None. It was almost pitch black. We looked at the white board near the door it looked normal with this writen on it:
Desk Duty: Cpl. Hanson & Pvt. Wayn
Baracks CO: 2nd LT. Benjimen.
We scoped out the first floor nothing creepy. We went up to the second floor. Then things got shit scary. First, none of the hallway lights would turn on, not even the exit sign over the door worked. All three of our phones died as soon as we walked through the door. And third, the door locked itself on the outside just before we closed it. But, Jarrel saw this and stuck a block to keep it open.
We began to walk, single file, our hands on each others back. I was lead, I kept my hands to the wall so we didn't lose our way. Then we passed a room marked "623". There was a deffening bang, just on the otherside of the door which apeared to jump slightly. I, out of shear fright tensed up and fell over. Then there was the same bang sounding as if it were coming on the other side of all the doors, the noise began to move to the oposite side of the building. Which we turned in fright, and looked down said hallway. As the noise reached the end of the hallway the endlights came on, iluminating a corpse, hanging by it's neck, lynch style. We freaked the fuck out and quiet literally flew down the stairs out of the building and to the MP station.
The MPs, upon hearing what we had saw sat us down in the interagation room. We assumed we were going to spend the night in the brig fro trespassing. No, one MP came in and sat down. And explained to us what we had saw...
It wasn't a corpse we saw, it was a ghost, a marine after being shipped home from WW2 for phycological problems hung himself claiming he was being haunted by a demonic entity. The baracks were shut down soon after, but never torn down.
We were told we had to stay at the station until ten PM that night. That night we were released, picked up some dinner at a local burger shop on base and began to walk back to his place. Things got even creepier. We rounded a corner onto the main street, Jarrel and I were looking at each other talking while our friend remained quiet and looking forward. He stopped in his tracks, dropped his shake, which splatered on the ground and said.
"Guys, look."
J and I looked forward, and there, under a streetlamp was the same ghost we saw earlier, but this time, no rope, he stood there his head bent at a sick angle, grinning. The three of us, dropped what we were holding, turned tail and ran like hell. Now, I can tell we were running pretty fast because we past a speedometer posted on a street corner read "18 mph".
We turned another corner and saw it again, this time in the middle of the street. We turned and ran down another street. Freaked out of our minds. We saw him six times before we got back to his home and another nine when before we fell asleep at 7 in the morning. The house power went out three times. Each time we saw him once. Whatever the fuck that thing was. It's still in my head to this day. For some reason it didn't follow me or J and my other friend when we left base for school. Our friend who we were staying at moved two weeks later, he hasn't seen him since, J hasn't seen him either. But I have, he follows me every where. Thing is, he's standing right behi
The last one is creepy pasta I created. XP
<spoiler=Great Grand Mother>When my Great Grand Mother past away when I was about eight years old strange things began to happen. My room than was the only bedroom on the first floor. Just above my bedroom door was a large shelf. For about two weeks after she died a very bright light would appear on that shelf every night. Not really scary now that I think of it, but it was damn scary when I was eight.
<spoiler=Abandoned baracks>Several months ago, I had a friend who lived on base, shortly before he moved, he, our friend Jarrel, and I decided to check out this old building in the cnter of the base that were baracks. Now, here's the creepy thing. We observed that building for two days. Day and night shifts. Not a sing Marine entered or left that building. Now, before you say, oh, they've porbably been deployed. No, no one on that base has been deployed for eight months before that. One night, being the dumbasses we were, decided to sneak into the building. But, to save ourself from shitting our pants in fear, we went at three in the afternoon. Allbut one door was locked, which was a heavy duty blast door. We went in and observed. Everything looked normal save no one being inside other than us. Now, the sun was high that day but no light got in. None. It was almost pitch black. We looked at the white board near the door it looked normal with this writen on it:
Desk Duty: Cpl. Hanson & Pvt. Wayn
Baracks CO: 2nd LT. Benjimen.
We scoped out the first floor nothing creepy. We went up to the second floor. Then things got shit scary. First, none of the hallway lights would turn on, not even the exit sign over the door worked. All three of our phones died as soon as we walked through the door. And third, the door locked itself on the outside just before we closed it. But, Jarrel saw this and stuck a block to keep it open.
We began to walk, single file, our hands on each others back. I was lead, I kept my hands to the wall so we didn't lose our way. Then we passed a room marked "623". There was a deffening bang, just on the otherside of the door which apeared to jump slightly. I, out of shear fright tensed up and fell over. Then there was the same bang sounding as if it were coming on the other side of all the doors, the noise began to move to the oposite side of the building. Which we turned in fright, and looked down said hallway. As the noise reached the end of the hallway the endlights came on, iluminating a corpse, hanging by it's neck, lynch style. We freaked the fuck out and quiet literally flew down the stairs out of the building and to the MP station.
The MPs, upon hearing what we had saw sat us down in the interagation room. We assumed we were going to spend the night in the brig fro trespassing. No, one MP came in and sat down. And explained to us what we had saw...
It wasn't a corpse we saw, it was a ghost, a marine after being shipped home from WW2 for phycological problems hung himself claiming he was being haunted by a demonic entity. The baracks were shut down soon after, but never torn down.
We were told we had to stay at the station until ten PM that night. That night we were released, picked up some dinner at a local burger shop on base and began to walk back to his place. Things got even creepier. We rounded a corner onto the main street, Jarrel and I were looking at each other talking while our friend remained quiet and looking forward. He stopped in his tracks, dropped his shake, which splatered on the ground and said.
"Guys, look."
J and I looked forward, and there, under a streetlamp was the same ghost we saw earlier, but this time, no rope, he stood there his head bent at a sick angle, grinning. The three of us, dropped what we were holding, turned tail and ran like hell. Now, I can tell we were running pretty fast because we past a speedometer posted on a street corner read "18 mph".
We turned another corner and saw it again, this time in the middle of the street. We turned and ran down another street. Freaked out of our minds. We saw him six times before we got back to his home and another nine when before we fell asleep at 7 in the morning. The house power went out three times. Each time we saw him once. Whatever the fuck that thing was. It's still in my head to this day. For some reason it didn't follow me or J and my other friend when we left base for school. Our friend who we were staying at moved two weeks later, he hasn't seen him since, J hasn't seen him either. But I have, he follows me every where. Thing is, he's standing right behi
The last one is creepy pasta I created. XP
Here's one I made a while ago. Based on an actual experience.
Living Silence, by SODAssault
John pulled down the brim of his cap, as though it would help shield him from the torrential rain. Leaving his broken-down car behind him, he marched along the side of the road towards civilization. A darkness free from unnatural light seemed to make every noise around him louder and sharper as his hearing adjusted to compensate for his inability to see.
Cupping his cell phone under his hand to shield it from the rain, he pointed the screen downward so that he could see the road he would otherwise have had to navigate through painful stumbling. He would have waited in the car and called for a tow truck, but his phone had no service. Loose gravel crunched free from the edge of the seemingly ancient road under his feet.
Distant lightning strikes lit up the sky, but the tall trees on either side of the road only cast foreboding shadows in the flashes of light.
"Fucking Jeeps," John muttered loudly so he could hear himself over the roaring downpour, "they promise you can drive up a sheer cliff, but the second the timing belt comes loose, the engine tears itself to pieces." Only a quarter of a mile from his stranded vehicle, he felt no real sense of progress, only a feeling of walking farther into a void that led to nowhere.
He stole a glance at the screen of his phone. Still no service. "This is just fucking great," he thought aloud in a monotone. His hand holding the phone started shaking as the screen grew brighter. John stood puzzled for a solid five seconds before he realized he was receiving a call with his phone set on silent.
Hunching over awkwardly to shield the phone with his head, he held it up to his ear. "Hello?" Without warning, a deafening, prolonged blast of static issued from the earpiece, causing John to recoil. He held it away from his head and shouted "Hello? Anybody there?!"
The call ended, leaving no number to identify it by. Suddenly, the rain stopped, as though someone had thrown a switch. It didn't die down, it just... stopped. Aside from the sound of rain droplets still falling off of the trees, all John could hear was the sound of his own shallow breathing, and then wet scraping sound of his feet shuffling over the concrete. He stood still, instinctively aware that something was wrong.
A rational man to his core, John did everything he could to shake off the deep, foreboding sense of being watched by a predatory beast. Aside from the light from his phone, the smell of wet soil... was it soil? No. Something more toxic. He inhaled deeply through his nose and was immediately hit with a blast of nausea. It wasn't an offensive odor, but somewhere, deep in the most primitive part of his mind, an enormous red flag went up. He was sensing something worse than the smell of a thousand rotting carcasses, although to his subconscious, they represented the same thing: the coming of death.
John quickened his pace, walking briskly, but not running, so as to avoid galvanizing whatever was watching him into attacking. He felt sick, as though he'd just ran ten miles with a severe case of the flu. His head shifted between sensations of being weightless and being full of iron as his desire to flee tried to win out over the influence of something far worse.
Focusing on the ground, he realized he could see his own shadow... a light was shining on him from behind! He spun around, saw a pair of headlights cresting the hill he'd just walked down from. He stood in place, feeling relief wash over him. "Thank fuck," he said, and sat down. The drive can't have seen him yet, but would quickly have an impossible time missing him. As it got closer, John could see that it was an older van, painted the color of rust... or perhaps it was completely rusted over, John couldn't be sure.
As it neared, the pressure in his head turned to a splitting headache, but he was too gratified by the sight of it to care. Sitting on the side of the road, he watched as the van decelerated and lurched to a grinding halt next to him. For a solid minute, nothing happened. He couldn't see inside the fogged-up windows, and he couldn't sense any shift in the suspension. It was completely still. Curious, he mustered all of his strength, stood up, and rapped softly on the window. It shattered completely, and he saw that there was nobody in either the driver or passenger seats. John frowned, and cleared his throat.
"Hello in there? Anybody...?" he said with a rasping voice, inhaling sharply to regain his breath. He lurched to the rear of the van, and grasped the handle of the windowless, sliding door. Unlatching the door and shoving it open, he looked inside when A SKELETON POPPED OUT AND ATE HIS FACE! AND THEN JOHN DIED! I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I AM JOHN'S GHOST! BOO!
John pulled down the brim of his cap, as though it would help shield him from the torrential rain. Leaving his broken-down car behind him, he marched along the side of the road towards civilization. A darkness free from unnatural light seemed to make every noise around him louder and sharper as his hearing adjusted to compensate for his inability to see.
Cupping his cell phone under his hand to shield it from the rain, he pointed the screen downward so that he could see the road he would otherwise have had to navigate through painful stumbling. He would have waited in the car and called for a tow truck, but his phone had no service. Loose gravel crunched free from the edge of the seemingly ancient road under his feet.
Distant lightning strikes lit up the sky, but the tall trees on either side of the road only cast foreboding shadows in the flashes of light.
"Fucking Jeeps," John muttered loudly so he could hear himself over the roaring downpour, "they promise you can drive up a sheer cliff, but the second the timing belt comes loose, the engine tears itself to pieces." Only a quarter of a mile from his stranded vehicle, he felt no real sense of progress, only a feeling of walking farther into a void that led to nowhere.
He stole a glance at the screen of his phone. Still no service. "This is just fucking great," he thought aloud in a monotone. His hand holding the phone started shaking as the screen grew brighter. John stood puzzled for a solid five seconds before he realized he was receiving a call with his phone set on silent.
Hunching over awkwardly to shield the phone with his head, he held it up to his ear. "Hello?" Without warning, a deafening, prolonged blast of static issued from the earpiece, causing John to recoil. He held it away from his head and shouted "Hello? Anybody there?!"
The call ended, leaving no number to identify it by. Suddenly, the rain stopped, as though someone had thrown a switch. It didn't die down, it just... stopped. Aside from the sound of rain droplets still falling off of the trees, all John could hear was the sound of his own shallow breathing, and then wet scraping sound of his feet shuffling over the concrete. He stood still, instinctively aware that something was wrong.
A rational man to his core, John did everything he could to shake off the deep, foreboding sense of being watched by a predatory beast. Aside from the light from his phone, the smell of wet soil... was it soil? No. Something more toxic. He inhaled deeply through his nose and was immediately hit with a blast of nausea. It wasn't an offensive odor, but somewhere, deep in the most primitive part of his mind, an enormous red flag went up. He was sensing something worse than the smell of a thousand rotting carcasses, although to his subconscious, they represented the same thing: the coming of death.
John quickened his pace, walking briskly, but not running, so as to avoid galvanizing whatever was watching him into attacking. He felt sick, as though he'd just ran ten miles with a severe case of the flu. His head shifted between sensations of being weightless and being full of iron as his desire to flee tried to win out over the influence of something far worse.
Focusing on the ground, he realized he could see his own shadow... a light was shining on him from behind! He spun around, saw a pair of headlights cresting the hill he'd just walked down from. He stood in place, feeling relief wash over him. "Thank fuck," he said, and sat down. The drive can't have seen him yet, but would quickly have an impossible time missing him. As it got closer, John could see that it was an older van, painted the color of rust... or perhaps it was completely rusted over, John couldn't be sure.
As it neared, the pressure in his head turned to a splitting headache, but he was too gratified by the sight of it to care. Sitting on the side of the road, he watched as the van decelerated and lurched to a grinding halt next to him. For a solid minute, nothing happened. He couldn't see inside the fogged-up windows, and he couldn't sense any shift in the suspension. It was completely still. Curious, he mustered all of his strength, stood up, and rapped softly on the window. It shattered completely, and he saw that there was nobody in either the driver or passenger seats. John frowned, and cleared his throat.
"Hello in there? Anybody...?" he said with a rasping voice, inhaling sharply to regain his breath. He lurched to the rear of the van, and grasped the handle of the windowless, sliding door. Unlatching the door and shoving it open, he looked inside when A SKELETON POPPED OUT AND ATE HIS FACE! AND THEN JOHN DIED! I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I AM JOHN'S GHOST! BOO!
"You want me to describe it? Dude, watching two people getting it on is bad enough. Watching your own daughter with her girlfriend is sick. Asking me to describe it all as well is going Too Damn Far. Sheesh." *hangs up*Tdc2182 said:
Ah, click them. Just sit well back from the screen for the one that got all the angry responses and the coffee advert. The rest of them are fine.Tdc2182 said:
Even after all this time I am getting asleep, these things are not scary at all.shadow741 said: