The scary thread

David_G

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The Shade said:
David_G said:
We have to keep this thread alive at least until then.
So any chance you'll be dropping off another parcel full of Creepypasta goodies? I've read through the entire thread now, but I'm still looking for more. (The Creepypasta website is ridiculously unnavigable to me.) You certainly seem to be the main provider of all things dark and scary here, after all.
Maybe, but the internet seems to be running low on creepypasta, I can't find any new ones.
 

Rhymenoceros

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David_G said:
The Shade said:
David_G said:
We have to keep this thread alive at least until then.
So any chance you'll be dropping off another parcel full of Creepypasta goodies? I've read through the entire thread now, but I'm still looking for more. (The Creepypasta website is ridiculously unnavigable to me.) You certainly seem to be the main provider of all things dark and scary here, after all.
Maybe, but the internet seems to be running low on creepypasta, I can't find any new ones.
Well are there any other websites for you to find a cornacopia (I have no idea how that is spelt) of horror stories for us?
 

David_G

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Rhymenoceros said:
David_G said:
The Shade said:
David_G said:
We have to keep this thread alive at least until then.
So any chance you'll be dropping off another parcel full of Creepypasta goodies? I've read through the entire thread now, but I'm still looking for more. (The Creepypasta website is ridiculously unnavigable to me.) You certainly seem to be the main provider of all things dark and scary here, after all.
Maybe, but the internet seems to be running low on creepypasta, I can't find any new ones.
Well are there any other websites for you to find a cornacopia (I have no idea how that is spelt) of horror stories for us?
There's a risk of me sounding stupid, but what's a cornacopia (maybe cornucopia)?
Yes, I did try googling it, but what I found doesn't seem to fit in the context of your sentence.
 

Phoenix09215

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Mestraal said:
Kinda long so in the spoiler box she goes. This story is entirely true, by the way. I find myself feeling unnerved by the memory even as I write it.
There I am, lying in my room, at about 1AM. I have my door open, light comes in from the hallway (I had a slight fear of the dark until recently). Everyone else is in bed.
I hear a banging sound. Logically, I figure that it's coming from outaide perhaps, I don't know, some drunkard banging on his front door. I try to ignore it.
Suddenly, it steps up a notch, getting louder and closer. I start to feel uneasy when I realise that it must be coming from inside the house. I wonder if perhaps one of my brothers is being stupid having woken up or something.
Another increase in noise. I realise it can't be either of them, I've heard no footsteps. The sound is clearly coming from the one room in the house where there's no chance anyone would be. The master bedroom.
Cautiously, I decide to step to my doorway and make sure my guess on the sound is entirely correct. As I do so, the sound gets even louder and even closer. Almost as if something is banging each closet door in that room, one at a time, gettign closer to the door (The room had a LOT of cupboards). Admittedly, at this point, I'm rigid with fear.
Suddenly, the loudest banging yet occurs, right next to the door. I want to run at this point, but hell, I can't. Far too scared. I know this room has to be empty. We avoid it like the plague, it's the room where my mother died, some 3 weeks before. It seems wrong to go in there. My brothers are both in their rooms and my father is asleep downstairs.
And as I watch the door, a final, hard bang can be heard. This time right on the door. I even observe the door shake. I utter a little scream and scurry back into my room, wherein I hide under the covers and sit there shuddering for almost an hour where my nerves finally calm enough to let me lie down and try to sleep.
I never worked out a logical explanation as to WHY it happened. All I know is it scared the shit out of me. Doesn't help that I've had stuff like this happen around me before, too. Once I could have sworn a hand grabbed my ankle while I was sitting happily in my room on the PC, and a red mark appeared there, too. And another time I was lying in bed at my grandads, while he was asleep...and the door to the room next to mine slip open of it's own accord. A heavy wooden door, so no chance of it being the wind. Never quite as terrifying as this, though.
Something similar happened to me. It got so bad that I actually told my local priest (I was 13 at the time and it was the first time I had even stepped in to that church). He came to me house one night with to volunteers from the church and a cross and some holy water. He said that our house had a poltergeist... And that its energies were consentrated in the front room, which is where all the weird stff happened.

When the priests went in there they started praying and blessing the room. After about 5 minutes everything in the room starting swinging and things flew off the fucking walls. Scariest thing ever, but after about a minute of this shit everything fell still. Since then nothing wierd had happened but if you don't take care of it, eventually the activity will get worse until it starts talking to you, or even touching you. Thats if its a poltergeist anyways... And I know this sounds like bullshit but I remember what I saw and I still remember very clearly all the weird shit that happened. "shudders"
 

David_G

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Well, whatever cornacopia means, I found some new stories, but these aren't creepy pasta, just scary stories I found by googling "Scary Stories"

The blizzard was raging fiercely around them as the brothers stumbled down the long road. they were miles from any farm, and knew they had to seek shelter or freeze to death. So it was with gratitude that the two brothers spotted a saloon and pushed their way through the door.
Every eye in the room turned upon them, as the boys ordered coffee with the last of their money. As the bartender went to fetch the hot drink, most of the regulars returned to their conversations. But one man continued to stare; a massive butcher with a mop of red hair and a long red beard who was the worse for drink.


?You?re looking at me funny,? the butcher slurred, looming over the two boys.


?We weren?t looking at you,? said the older boy. ?We were just warming ourselves by the fire.?


?Are you calling me a liar?? he shouted. Around the room crowd grinned; they loved a good fight.


?We didn?t say that,? said the older boy quickly, waving his hands and accidentally striking the butcher on the arm. That did it. The butcher grabbed the boy by the collar. ?No one hits me and gets away with it,? he roared and threw the boy headfirst into the huge fire raging in the hearth.
There was a moment of stunned silence in the saloon, and then the elder boy screamed in agony as the flames engulfed him from head to toe. The younger lad shouted in terror. The older boy stumbled out of the fireplace, as the little brother tried to beat out the fire with his small hands.
The butcher loomed above them, grinning sadistically as the flaming boy lost consciousness, his screams dying away.


?Your turn,? the butcher said to his brother. The younger boy gasped in fear and fled for his life out into the raging snow. The boy?s little frozen body was not found until the spring.


One evening, a decade after the death of the two young boys, a burly man with a long red beard came strolling down the road one taken by the brothers. The butcher had heard rumors of a ghost but had discarded them as so much poppycock and tavern talk.


As he meandered down the road, he became aware that a silence had fallen. In the odd silence, he heard the footsteps of a large animal. They walked when he walked and stopped when he stopped. Pulse pounding madly, the butcher turned. Behind him, large as an ox, stood a black dog with blazing blue eyes and sharp teeth. The butcher had seen those blue eyes once before, gazing at him from the face of a young boy trying to save his burning brother.


The black dog growled softly and took a step forward. The butcher whirled around to flee and found himself face to face with tall figure covered from head to toe in flames. The burning boy reached out toward the butcher with hands withered and blackened by fire. The butcher gave a terrified scream and fell, blood gushing from eyes and nose. He was dead before he hit the ground.


To this day, the black dog and the flaming figure still appeared in that vicinity to harass travelers and speed them on their way.
She commandeered the room in the basement of her dorm as soon as she realized she would have to pull an all-nighter in order to prepare for tomorrow?s final exam. Her roommate, Jenna, liked to get to bed early, so she packed up everything she thought she would need and went downstairs to study . . . and study . . . and study some more.

It was two o?clock, when she realized that she?d left one of the textbooks upstairs on her bed. With a dramatic sigh, she rose, and climbed the stairs slowly to her third-floor dorm room.
The lights were dim in the long hallway, and the old boards creaked under her weary tread. She reached her room and turned the handle as softly as she could, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside, so that the hall lights wouldn?t wake her roommate.

The room was filled with a strange, metallic smell. She frowned a bit, her arms breaking out into chills. There was a strange feeling of malice in the room, as if a malevolent gaze were fixed upon her. It was a mind trick; the all-nighter was catching up with her.

She could hear Jenna breathing on the far side of the room?a heavy sound, almost as if she had been running. Jenna must have picked up a cold during the last tense week before finals.

She crept along the wall until she reached her bed, groping among the covers for the stray history textbook. In the silence, she could hear a steady drip-drip-drip sound. She sighed silently. Facilities would have to come to fix the sink in the bathroom?again.

Her fingers closed on the textbook. She picked it up softly and withdrew from the room as silently as she could.

Relieved to be out of the room, she hurried back downstairs, collapsed into an overstuffed chair and studied until six o?clock. She finally decided that enough was enough. If she slipped upstairs now, she could get a couple hours? sleep before her nine o?clock exam.

The first of the sun?s rays were beaming through the windows as she slowly slid the door open, hoping not to awaken Jenna. Her nose was met by an earthy, metallic smell a second before her eyes registered the scene in her dorm room. Jenna was spread-eagled on top of her bed against the far wall, her throat cut from ear to ear and her nightdress stained with blood. Two drops of blood fell from the saturated blanket with a drip-drip noise that sounded like a leaky faucet.

Scream after scream poured from her mouth, but she couldn?t stop herself any more than she could cease wringing her hands. All along the hallway, doors slammed and footsteps came running down the passage.

Within moments other students had gathered in her doorway, and one of her friends gripped her arm with a shaking hand and pointed a trembling finger toward the wall. Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. Then she fainted into her friend?s arms.

On the wall above her bed, written in her roommate?s blood, were the words: ?Aren?t you glad you didn?t turn on the light??
In America there was a mass murder. Policemen went to investigate. Trying not to tread on the bodies, they took pictures of each one. One policemen saw something on the opposite wall but he couldn't read it. He walks over to it and sees the numbers "7734" in calculator form, written in blood. When taking pictures of this, he turned his camera upside-down and told an approaching police officer. When he pointed with the hand that the camera was in, he accidentally took a picture of the upside-down numbers. He was about to delete the picture when he realized something. The numbers were now a word. The word was "hELL."
On an isolated road around midnight, in upstate NY, a man and his girlfriend are driving. Suddenly a car approaches them from behind. "Pull over!" he says. The man shrugs and turns on a dirt road. He gets out and talks to the man. "What is it, babe?" the girlfriend asks, but she gets no answer. She shrugged and continued to browse through the different radio stations. Then she heard a crash "Babe?" she said hesitantly. She ran out of the car and saw her boyfriend's head bouncing back and forth on the radio antennae. The back lights were smashed in. Screaming, she goes to get her cell phone out of the car. As soon as she opens the car door she hears, "No use. . . No one will answer you."
Two 18 wheeler trucks were on a highway. The two trucks smashed into each other and all the people died. They took the trucks to the junkyard. A day later, it started to smell. It got worse every day. Finally they took apart the fused trucks and found a VW beetle with the passengers still in there, all dead.
One night, these kids were coming home from a party and there was a cemetery about one block away from home. One kid was telling the others about a local legend. If you go and stand on the grave for ten seconds and stab a knife into it, a hand will grab you and pull you into the grave with the corpse. One girl was brave enough to do it for $20.00. She got a knife, walked to a grave, stood on it, and stabbed the knife into it. Suddenly, her leg felt heavy and she tried to pick it up, but something was grabbing HER! She was yelling and crying for help, but her friends thought she was kidding, so they just left. The next day, they found out that she had died, of fright. She thought that somebody was grabbing her, but the knife she was using had pierced her pants and held her there.
 

Rhymenoceros

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David_G said:
Rhymenoceros said:
David_G said:
The Shade said:
David_G said:
We have to keep this thread alive at least until then.
So any chance you'll be dropping off another parcel full of Creepypasta goodies? I've read through the entire thread now, but I'm still looking for more. (The Creepypasta website is ridiculously unnavigable to me.) You certainly seem to be the main provider of all things dark and scary here, after all.
Maybe, but the internet seems to be running low on creepypasta, I can't find any new ones.
Well are there any other websites for you to find a cornacopia (I have no idea how that is spelt) of horror stories for us?
There's a risk of me sounding stupid, but what's a cornacopia (maybe cornucopia)?
Yes, I did try googling it, but what I found doesn't seem to fit in the context of your sentence.
Hmm. Well I don't know if it's the proper term but I use it in the context of a large range or a lot of stuff.
Kind of
whatever
 

Sindaine

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It's late in the evening, and a surgeon is just getting off his shift. A woman is in the elevator when he gets on, and they make light conversation on the ride down. At the lobby the doors open, and a woman in a hospital gown steps forward to enter the elevator. Horrified, the doctor punches the button to close the doors and sends the car back up again. The other woman is startled and angered by his seeming rudeness, until the surgeon explains:

"I operated on her earlier today; she died on the table. That red wristband meant she was to be taken to the morgue."

The woman smiles and holds up her arm.

"Red wristband? Oh, you mean like mine?"
 

luckycharms8282

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Mcupobob said:
Been snoping around form more scares found a awesome youtube channel.


enjoy and shit a brick.
Pics or it didnt happen. But seriously, there would be footage of such a show still around. There also would have been an investigation into th room/set. Still creepy and un tho.
 

Rhymenoceros

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luckycharms8282 said:
Mcupobob said:
Been snoping around form more scares found a awesome youtube channel.


enjoy and shit a brick.
Pics or it didnt happen. But seriously, there would be footage of such a show still around. There also would have been an investigation into th room/set. Still creepy and un tho.
You do realise that none of these are real, right? (hopefully)
There would have been investigations into all of these had they actually happened and also: none of them could happen.
 

David_G

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Rhymenoceros said:
luckycharms8282 said:
Mcupobob said:
Been snoping around form more scares found a awesome youtube channel.


enjoy and shit a brick.
Pics or it didnt happen. But seriously, there would be footage of such a show still around. There also would have been an investigation into th room/set. Still creepy and un tho.
You do realise that none of these are real, right? (hopefully)
There would have been investigations into all of these had they actually happened and also: none of them could happen.
Well, except from the stories people tell and claim that they experienced them first hand.
 

Fetzenfisch

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Mcupobob said:
Haven't seen one of these in awhile, for those of you who don't wish to sleep and want a constant chill down your spine then you've found the right thread.

Post up scary stories/pics/ or videos or make one.

I'll start off us off by horrifing you with the slender man


I told those guys before, that there couldnt have been a mentioning of cotton in the German text before 18Th century. Plus the name "Dünneman(n)" would have been much better than this version. Well i gues it works for most.
-Drifter- said:
How about some Marble Hornets?

Ah, I love this series.
Damn ninja'd yeah i love those, stumbled over it one night a few weeks ago, i was watching, looking for more information, watching again. Damn one night lost ;)
 

Zhukov

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Dec 29, 2009
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David_G said:
!MESSAGE BEGINS

We made a mistake. That is the simple, undeniable truth of the matter, however painful it might be. The flaw was not in our Observatories, for those machines were as perfect as we could make, and they showed us only the unfiltered light of truth. The flaw was not in the Predictor, for it is a device of pure, infallible logic, turning raw data into meaningful information without the taint of emotion or bias. No, the flaw was within us, the Orchestrators of this disaster, the sentients who thought themselves beyond such failings. We are responsible.

It began a short while ago, as these things are measured, less than 6^6 Deeli ago, though I suspect our systems of measure will mean very little by the time anyone receives this transmission. We detected faint radio signals from a blossoming intelligence 2^14 Deelis outward from the Galactic Core, as photons travel. At first crude and unstructured, these leaking broadcasts quickly grew in complexity and strength, as did the messages they carried. Through our Observatories we watched a world of strife and violence, populated by a barbaric race of short-lived, fast breeding vermin. They were brutal and uncultured things which stabbed and shot and burned each other with no regard for life or purpose. Even their concepts of Art spoke of conflict and pain. They divided themselves according to some bizarre cultural patterns and set their every industry to cause of death.

They terrified us, but we were older and wiser and so very far away, so we did not fret. Then we watched them split the atom and breach the heavens within the breadth of one of their single, short generations, and we began to worry. When they began actively transmitting messages and greetings into space, we felt fear and horror. Their transmissions promised peace and camaraderie to any who were listening, but we had watched them for too long to buy into such transparent deceptions. They knew we were out here, and they were coming for us.

The Orchestrators consulted the Predictor, and the output was dire. They would multiply and grow and flood out of their home system like some uncountable tide of Devourer worms, consuming all that lay in their path. It might take 6^8 Deelis, but they would destroy us if left unchecked. With aching carapaces we decided to act, and sealed our fate.

The Gift of Mercy was 8^4 strides long with a mouth 2/4 that in diameter, filled with many 4^4 weights of machinery, fuel, and ballast. It would push itself up to 2/8th of light speed with its onboard fuel, and then begin to consume interstellar Primary Element 2/2 to feed its unlimited acceleration. It would be traveling at nearly light speed when it hit. They would never see it coming. Its launch was a day of mourning, celebration, and reflection. The horror of the act we had committed weighted heavily upon us all; the necessity of our crime did little to comfort us.

The Gift had barely cleared the outer cometary halo when the mistake was realized, but it was too late. The Gift could not be caught, could not be recalled or diverted from its path. The architects and work crews, horrified at the awful power of the thing upon which they labored, had quietly self-terminated in droves, walking unshielded into radiation zones, neglecting proper null pressure safety or simple ceasing their nutrient consumption until their metabolic functions stopped. The appalling cost in lives had forced the Orchestrators to streamline the Gift's design and construction. There had been no time for the design or implementation of anything beyond the simple, massive engines and the stabilizing systems. We could only watch in shame and horror as the light of genocide faded into infrared against the distant void.

They grew, and they changed, in a handful of lifetimes they abolished war, abandoned their violent tendencies and turned themselves to the grand purposes of life and Art. We watched them remake first themselves, and then their world. Their frail, soft bodies gave way to gleaming metals and plastics, they unified their people through an omnipresent communications grid and produced Art of such power and emotion, the likes of which the Galaxy has never seen before. Or again, because of us.

They converted their home world into a paradise (by their standards) and many 10^6s of them poured out into the surrounding system with a rapidity and vigor that we could only envy. With bodies built to survive every environment from the day lit surface of their innermost world, to the atmosphere of their largest gas giant and the cold void in-between, they set out to sculpt their system into something beautiful. At first we thought them simple miners, stripping the rocky planets and moons for vital resources, but then we began to see the purpose to their constructions, the artworks carved into every surface, and traced across the system in glittering lights and dancing fusion trails. And still, our terrible Gift approached.

They had less than 2^2 Deeli to see it, following so closely on the tail of its own light. In that time, oh so brief even by their fleeting lives, more than 10^10 sentients prepared for death. Lovers exchanged last words, separated by worlds and the tyranny of light speed. Their planetside engineers worked frantically to build sufficient transmission infrastructure to upload the countless masses with the necessary neural modifications, while those above dumped lifetimes of music and literature from their databanks to make room for passengers. Those lacking the required hardware or the time to acquire it consigned themselves to death, lashed out in fear and pain, or simply went about their lives as best they could under the circumstances.

The Gift arrived suddenly, the light of its impact visible in our skies, shining bright and cruel even to the unaugmented ocular receptor. We watched and we wept for our victims, dead so many Deelis before the light of their doom had even reached us. Many 6^4s of those who had been directly or even tangentially involved in the creation of the Gift sealed their spiracles with paste as a final penance for the small roles they had played in this atrocity. The light dimmed, the dust cleared, and our Observatories refocused upon the place where their shining blue world had once hung in the void, and found only dust and the pale gleam of an orphaned moon, wrapped in a thin, burning wisp of atmosphere that had once belonged to its parent.

Radiation and relativistic shrapnel had wiped out much of the inner system, and continent sized chunks of molten rock carried screaming ghosts outward at interstellar escape velocities, damned to wander the great void for an eternity. The damage was apocalyptic, but not complete, from the shadows of the outer worlds, tiny points of light emerged, thousands of fusion trails of single ships and world ships and everything in between, many 10^6s of survivors in flesh and steel and memory banks, ready to rebuild. For a few moments we felt relief, even joy, and we were filled with the hope that their culture and Art would survive the terrible blow we had dealt them. Then came the message, tightly focused at our star, transmitted simultaneously by hundreds of their ships.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."

!MESSAGE ENDS
Whoa. That was really good. Not scary or anything, but a darn good read. Thanks for posting it.

(Incidentally, that story reminds me of the Krogan and Geth from Mass Effect.)
 

emeraldrafael

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Mcupobob said:
I'll start off us off by horrifing you with the slender man
So... What exactly is the Fear of Slender Man?

hm... There's only three things i fear in the world

Spiders (almost died from one of these *****'s bites when i was five)
http://capitalistliontamer.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/black-widow.jpg

Pennywise (I dont care if everything floats down there, I know what you did in Derry!)
http://www.fearnet.com/fearnetImages/imWgWaaaV2qYkkQ926Laaa1VVwIw==.jpg

Death (its unknown)
http://www.inewscatcher.com/timages/c981f31a36a89cd078dfffa970bbe2e7.jpg
(and kills the innocence of many)
 

LunarTick

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I wanted to thank all the posters of this thread for these wonderful stories. I just worked my way through all of them and am getting ready to get some night's sleep. However; I don't think I will sleep very soundly.

A-D. said:
I first thought the capital letters were a style choice, but when you mentioned you were from Germany, it became clear why that was. I just found it funny.

And to contribute, an experience of my own:
One night, I dreamt of being stalked by something. Together with a group of people,
wWe would seek shelter in an abandonded cabin, somewhere in the woods. Every window or door would be baricaded, because we knew the thing was after us. We would hear it, walking outside the building, testing the windows, probing the locks. Then a certain thought would hit me: we had forgotten to barricade the window in the back! By then, it would be to late. The white, gaunt humanoid thing would have found the window. Slowly it would go through the window, it's long, nimble clawlike fingers first, later revealing it's hateful face.
It would be too late to save that particular dream self, so in my sleep I would restart the dream. Beginning the dream anew, with my knowledge of the past dream. So I would pay extra attention to that one window we didn't board up in my last dream. But in focusing on one particular window I would forget another. So the thing would enter the building once more, prompting me to restart the dream. This dream cycle would go on for 6 dreams or so.
3 or 4 nights later, I lay in my bed, thinking of that dream and that disturbing creature. When suddenly I heard something moving about on the balcony bordering my bedroom. Hesistantly, as soft as I could, I walked to the kitchen to take a peek on the balcony. I still heard something moving, scratching on the balcony. I battled my fear and looked through the kitchen door.

I saw a cat, disturbed by my intrusion of it's pillaging of a garbage bag I had left on the balcony. After that, I slept quite well.
 

Kuroneko97

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http://www.devilstrampingground.com/

I found these three stories the scariest:

-Devil's Tramping Ground
-Maco Lights
-The Banshee

Had a hard time sleeping for a few days after the banshee one. Ever since I don't like going outside at night alone...Brr.
 

Cmichaels

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Gunjack65 said:
S.R.S. said:
Go to ED and search creepy pasta.

So I didn't have sound on, so I'm not sure if that would change anything. Also it's 6:40 and the sun is up...and my lights are on...and my tv is on...but I still felt like I was about to have a heart attack when that popped up.