The scary thread
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When I was in my senior year of high school, we went on a trip to visit colleges around the province we might be interested in applying to. When we got to the first city, a local elementary school offered the use of their gymnasium and one classroom (boys in the gymnasium, girls in the classroom across the hall. Like they didn't trust us or something 
) to sleep in. Well, after the chaperones finally had us settled down and the lights were out and everyone was asleep I drifted off. I am a very light sleeper and I dream only if I have had a stressful day. A 6 hour bus ride culminating in an afternoon visit to a large shopping mall with my buddies does not constitute a stressful day in anyone's book.
Anyway, I drift off to sleep. I am awakened at about 2 a.m. (this is longer ago than I care to mention, so some of the details are fuzzy)by the sound of footsteps. No big deal. Probably just one of the kids getting a drink or a chaperone making sure we are behaving. I have always had a keen sense of hearing honed during spring and fall hunting, so I listened and determined the foot falls were a bit too heavy for a teenager. I heard them cross from the far side of the gymnasium to the door. Then they stopped. I had an odd feeling, but shook it off. As I was closing my eyes, I realized what was bothering me. No light had spilled in from the hall. The lights, we had been told, were not shut off in the hall in case of emergency. I slowly sat up and peered into the darkness. The only thing I could see was the sliver of light from under the door, illuminating just enough of the gymnasium for me to see about half of the room. I could see no one by the door. And everyone had pitched their sleeping areas on the side I had heard the footsteps originate from.
I am not prone to spook easily. I was brought up by a mean old hardass who scorned men that allowed their emotions free rein. I have stood nose to nose with a black bear, been stalked by a grizzly, and had a sow grizzly charge me. I am an avid outdoorsmen and used to strange sounds in the night. I have been awakened by the screaming of the red fox. It will chill a man's blood. So, when I could see no perpetrator of the footsteps, I shrugged it off as being in the dark in a strange place.
Until the sound came again. Louder. A large man's footfall. The chaperone's were all women. I sat upright immediately, the adrenaline from my fight or flight response causing my heart to race. I strained my eyes to find the culprit. I could hear the footsteps. Click. Click. Click. A man in dress shoes. At 2 a.m.? Click. Click. Almost at the door now. I could see mounds of sleeping students further away from the door than I estimated the sound to be. Why could I not see the intruder? Click. Click. He couldn't be more than eight or ten feet from the door at this point. Still, no sight of him. Click. The footsteps stopped. A door creaked. No door opened. A shadow passed across the light from under the door.
I spent that night wide awake, clutching the knife I carry with me everywhere out of habit and being raised in the country. 6 a.m. rolls around. People start waking up. I am with the first group into the shower. As my friend, E, and I are shaving he turns to me. E is Chinese, and, as a consequence of his upbringing, a lot more open to, shall we say, paranormal occurrences. E turns to me and says "Did you notice anything really weird last night?"
"Like what?" I ask after an awkward pause.
"Well, I woke up at like 2 with the feeling someone was right beside me. So I rolled over and there is a man's face right in front of mine, staring at me, like he was laying beside me. I blink in shock, and he is gone." I recounted my experience in brief detail. E can not recall hearing any footsteps, even though he said he was so shaken he was awake for another two hours after his "vision." A couple of overactive imaginations? What do you think?
) to sleep in. Well, after the chaperones finally had us settled down and the lights were out and everyone was asleep I drifted off. I am a very light sleeper and I dream only if I have had a stressful day. A 6 hour bus ride culminating in an afternoon visit to a large shopping mall with my buddies does not constitute a stressful day in anyone's book. Anyway, I drift off to sleep. I am awakened at about 2 a.m. (this is longer ago than I care to mention, so some of the details are fuzzy)by the sound of footsteps. No big deal. Probably just one of the kids getting a drink or a chaperone making sure we are behaving. I have always had a keen sense of hearing honed during spring and fall hunting, so I listened and determined the foot falls were a bit too heavy for a teenager. I heard them cross from the far side of the gymnasium to the door. Then they stopped. I had an odd feeling, but shook it off. As I was closing my eyes, I realized what was bothering me. No light had spilled in from the hall. The lights, we had been told, were not shut off in the hall in case of emergency. I slowly sat up and peered into the darkness. The only thing I could see was the sliver of light from under the door, illuminating just enough of the gymnasium for me to see about half of the room. I could see no one by the door. And everyone had pitched their sleeping areas on the side I had heard the footsteps originate from.
I am not prone to spook easily. I was brought up by a mean old hardass who scorned men that allowed their emotions free rein. I have stood nose to nose with a black bear, been stalked by a grizzly, and had a sow grizzly charge me. I am an avid outdoorsmen and used to strange sounds in the night. I have been awakened by the screaming of the red fox. It will chill a man's blood. So, when I could see no perpetrator of the footsteps, I shrugged it off as being in the dark in a strange place.
Until the sound came again. Louder. A large man's footfall. The chaperone's were all women. I sat upright immediately, the adrenaline from my fight or flight response causing my heart to race. I strained my eyes to find the culprit. I could hear the footsteps. Click. Click. Click. A man in dress shoes. At 2 a.m.? Click. Click. Almost at the door now. I could see mounds of sleeping students further away from the door than I estimated the sound to be. Why could I not see the intruder? Click. Click. He couldn't be more than eight or ten feet from the door at this point. Still, no sight of him. Click. The footsteps stopped. A door creaked. No door opened. A shadow passed across the light from under the door.
I spent that night wide awake, clutching the knife I carry with me everywhere out of habit and being raised in the country. 6 a.m. rolls around. People start waking up. I am with the first group into the shower. As my friend, E, and I are shaving he turns to me. E is Chinese, and, as a consequence of his upbringing, a lot more open to, shall we say, paranormal occurrences. E turns to me and says "Did you notice anything really weird last night?"
"Like what?" I ask after an awkward pause.
"Well, I woke up at like 2 with the feeling someone was right beside me. So I rolled over and there is a man's face right in front of mine, staring at me, like he was laying beside me. I blink in shock, and he is gone." I recounted my experience in brief detail. E can not recall hearing any footsteps, even though he said he was so shaken he was awake for another two hours after his "vision." A couple of overactive imaginations? What do you think?
None of these are scaring me at all, because I read the SCP Foundation. S.R.S., please post some of your scarier stuff.
I don't have any really great creepypasta, but here's a creepy Penny Arcade that I just love:
I like to imagine Tycho's voice becoming more and more like SHODAN's (except masculine, of course).
I don't have any really great creepypasta, but here's a creepy Penny Arcade that I just love:
I like to imagine Tycho's voice becoming more and more like SHODAN's (except masculine, of course).
Thanks for this! Watching all the episodes tonight. On episode 18, it's cracking so far!RamirezDoEverything said:
Here's one! glad I could contribute to this awesome thread.
Not true, but kinda creepy, not as good as the "It was his reflection..." one.
One day a boy named Charlie Wackaweed, was making a wish on a star. He did not know that the wish he would be making would change his life forever.
It was late one night, when Charlie was looking at the stars. He had heard that if you wish on the first star you see, your wish will become true. So he spotted the first star that he saw, and he made a wish on it. His wish was that whatever he said or did, for it to come true. So for instance if he would say "Let it snow" it would snow.
Just a few days later, he was sitting in Geometry class wondering about the test they would have in about 5 minutes. When he got the test, he sat there wishing that he would ace the test. He took the test that was supposed to be very hard and he thought that it was easy. He got it back and it was an A+. he was amazed because he had never had a test and aced it before, and this test was probably the hardest one that he had ever taken. He asked all his classmates what they had gotten on the test and they all replied " A C+ or lower. Charlie was very excited that he had gotten a better grade than Chris, who was an A+ student ,and Chris had made a C-.
There was this one kid that Charlie did not like. He wished that something bad would happen to him. The very next day he was out of school. Charlie asked his teacher where he was he said " He is in the hospital with a very deadly disease. It came on him so fast, and none of the doctors have a cure. It is really weird. I have never seen anything like it."
The very next day, Charlie heard that the kid with the deadly disease had died. Charlie was upset about the whole situation. He knew that it was his fault that he had died . So he went to his funeral with sorrow and regret.
He was at home, alone, late one night. All of a sudden the phone rang. He ran down the steps to answer it thinking that it might be his parents. He picked up the phone and he heard the dial tone. He thought to himself "That's weird" and then he went back up to his room thinking no more about it. This happened several more times and he still ignored it. Then all of a sudden the door bell rang. He went down to answer it again thinking that it might be his best friend Jarred. He opened the door and said "Hey Jarred......what's....." but then he noticed that no one was there. He thought to himself "It must be those little kids that live down the street prank calling and ringing the doorbell and running." So he then went back up the stairs to his room, thinking no more of it. Then there was a peck on the window. He was really starting to get kind of scared and curious. He went to the window, opened it and yelled "Get out of here you little kids!!" But still he saw no one. Since it was starting to get really freaky, he decided to go and watch some T.V. He flipped on the T.V. and right then the power went out. He knew that the kids couldn't have done something like that because he didn't have a fuse box. He now realized that the kids couldn't have done any of the other things now, and he was starting to get really scared. He went and got a flash light and he saw red eyes across the room and was coming very fast towards him. He all of a sudden heard a low, creepy, but familiar voice calling " Charlie..........Charlie...........Charlie.....how could you do something like this to me?" Charlie replied "Who are you? What do you want from me? I have no clue what you're talking about." The voice replied "You do know what I'm talking about Charlie Wackaweed."All of a sudden, it jumped out behind the shadows and Charlie saw a beaten, flesh removed, kid that Charlie recognized as the kid that he had wished that something bad would happen to. His eyes were blood red, and the flesh that he had left was purple and blue. Charlie was scared to death. He told the kid that he had never meant for him to be killed or even hurt, but he didn't believe him. The kid replied "Now it is your turn to follow the pain and death that I had suffered through." Then the kid took Charlie out of the house, and tied him up to a tree. The kid then dug a huge hole and then untied Charlie. The ghost said to him," I'm sorry that it has to end this way Charlie, but this is what you have to repay me by doing. Good-Bye Charlie!" Then the kid threw Charlie in the hole and buried him alive.
No one really knew what had happened to Charlie Wackaweed. Until one day a clipping all of a sudden appeared in the newspaper telling what had happened and who had actually killed the kid that Charlie didn't like. I am telling you now, be careful what you wish for because it just might come true.
Not true, but kinda creepy, not as good as the "It was his reflection..." one.
One day a boy named Charlie Wackaweed, was making a wish on a star. He did not know that the wish he would be making would change his life forever.
It was late one night, when Charlie was looking at the stars. He had heard that if you wish on the first star you see, your wish will become true. So he spotted the first star that he saw, and he made a wish on it. His wish was that whatever he said or did, for it to come true. So for instance if he would say "Let it snow" it would snow.
Just a few days later, he was sitting in Geometry class wondering about the test they would have in about 5 minutes. When he got the test, he sat there wishing that he would ace the test. He took the test that was supposed to be very hard and he thought that it was easy. He got it back and it was an A+. he was amazed because he had never had a test and aced it before, and this test was probably the hardest one that he had ever taken. He asked all his classmates what they had gotten on the test and they all replied " A C+ or lower. Charlie was very excited that he had gotten a better grade than Chris, who was an A+ student ,and Chris had made a C-.
There was this one kid that Charlie did not like. He wished that something bad would happen to him. The very next day he was out of school. Charlie asked his teacher where he was he said " He is in the hospital with a very deadly disease. It came on him so fast, and none of the doctors have a cure. It is really weird. I have never seen anything like it."
The very next day, Charlie heard that the kid with the deadly disease had died. Charlie was upset about the whole situation. He knew that it was his fault that he had died . So he went to his funeral with sorrow and regret.
He was at home, alone, late one night. All of a sudden the phone rang. He ran down the steps to answer it thinking that it might be his parents. He picked up the phone and he heard the dial tone. He thought to himself "That's weird" and then he went back up to his room thinking no more about it. This happened several more times and he still ignored it. Then all of a sudden the door bell rang. He went down to answer it again thinking that it might be his best friend Jarred. He opened the door and said "Hey Jarred......what's....." but then he noticed that no one was there. He thought to himself "It must be those little kids that live down the street prank calling and ringing the doorbell and running." So he then went back up the stairs to his room, thinking no more of it. Then there was a peck on the window. He was really starting to get kind of scared and curious. He went to the window, opened it and yelled "Get out of here you little kids!!" But still he saw no one. Since it was starting to get really freaky, he decided to go and watch some T.V. He flipped on the T.V. and right then the power went out. He knew that the kids couldn't have done something like that because he didn't have a fuse box. He now realized that the kids couldn't have done any of the other things now, and he was starting to get really scared. He went and got a flash light and he saw red eyes across the room and was coming very fast towards him. He all of a sudden heard a low, creepy, but familiar voice calling " Charlie..........Charlie...........Charlie.....how could you do something like this to me?" Charlie replied "Who are you? What do you want from me? I have no clue what you're talking about." The voice replied "You do know what I'm talking about Charlie Wackaweed."All of a sudden, it jumped out behind the shadows and Charlie saw a beaten, flesh removed, kid that Charlie recognized as the kid that he had wished that something bad would happen to. His eyes were blood red, and the flesh that he had left was purple and blue. Charlie was scared to death. He told the kid that he had never meant for him to be killed or even hurt, but he didn't believe him. The kid replied "Now it is your turn to follow the pain and death that I had suffered through." Then the kid took Charlie out of the house, and tied him up to a tree. The kid then dug a huge hole and then untied Charlie. The ghost said to him," I'm sorry that it has to end this way Charlie, but this is what you have to repay me by doing. Good-Bye Charlie!" Then the kid threw Charlie in the hole and buried him alive.
No one really knew what had happened to Charlie Wackaweed. Until one day a clipping all of a sudden appeared in the newspaper telling what had happened and who had actually killed the kid that Charlie didn't like. I am telling you now, be careful what you wish for because it just might come true.
Damn you thread, damn you. Tis midnight and I have work in the morning. Why must you be so addictive to read. I don't have much to offer unfortunately but I will leave you with a rather unsettling recording of what Saturn "sounds" like. I believe it's a good background noise for this thread.
Why doesn't Charlie wish the kid away, wish himself somewhere else, give himself superpowers, wish it never happened, or any number of other things someone who was basically omnipotent could have done?Dfskelleton said:
I loves me some scary stories, but in me, plotholes must meet their Waterloo.
When I was young, back when the BBC played the National Anthem and then shut off the signal every evening and a satellite didn't need to actually do anything to be awesome, the news looked rather different. They couldn't just drop a correspondent into the scene for a live report, and without 24-hr rolling news they didn't need to. The Falklands War kept them quite busy that year, so the disappearance of a man and his daughter a day's walk away was just a rumour where we lived.
When a similar-looking girl the same age went missing too, nobody joined the dots. When the missing daughter's body was found and the coroner reported what had happened to her and a third girl went missing, word got around, but all we got was a reminder to be careful and be sure to be home before dark. Bad things, we all thought back then, skulked in the shadows and hid away from sunlight. There was still school to attend, and there were still friends to be visited and so on, and as long as I went straight home from school I had plenty of time to be in before dark, so that was fine.
It was on my way home from school that I suddenly found myself facing the missing father of the murdered girl. I froze, staring at him. He stared back at me. He seemed angry. He also seemed wrong, the way my grandfather's mottled skin, bowed neck and shaking hands seemed wrong. I could recognise illness, even if I couldn't name it, and I recognised illness in the man in front of me.
Then he called me her name. I tried to back away, tripped over something, maybe a manhole or maybe my own feet, and fell. He stepped forward, starting to say something, and then stopped as someone stood between us. From lying behind her, it was hard to be sure but she seemed about my age and size and to have the same sort of hair as me. He glared at her and raised a threatening hand.
"You're not so scary, really," she told him, standing firm. "You look big from down there on the floor, but you're just a man." Her voice dropped with each word, from defiance pitched to carry down to a calm put-down. It dropped lower still, becoming a hiss I could barely make out: "I'm not afraid of you, and I won't fall down for you."
At that point, my instincts took over from my conscious mind and I twisted away and set off like a sprinter from the blocks. I barely remember anything from the first push off the ground until I made it home, but I remember locking the front door behind me and running for the shower, feeling icky and gross as if he'd touched me all over and covered me with some sort of slime. I didn't recover my composure until long after the hot water ran out, then I turned off the cold shower, stepped out of the cubicle in my soaking-wet school uniform, drenching the carpet as I went, and got changed.
By the time the rest of my family got in, my uniform was drying and I'd calmed down, and two more bodies had been found: the second missing girl, in an overgrown field corner several miles away, and the man, in a quiet street between my school and my home. He'd bled out from an incredible number of wounds, including several on his arms where he'd cowered behind them.
No more girls went missing, and that was that.
There are just a couple of things that bother me, thinking back over it, two little details that have floated around in my mind, surfacing at quiet moments and nudging me.
One thing is that when she hissed at him, I'm not quiet sure she didn't say "I won't fall down for you again."
The other is that when I remember standing in the shower, turning round and round, looking up into the jet and down to the plughole, waiting for the water to make me feel clean, I sometimes remember waiting for the water to run clear ..... not pink.
When a similar-looking girl the same age went missing too, nobody joined the dots. When the missing daughter's body was found and the coroner reported what had happened to her and a third girl went missing, word got around, but all we got was a reminder to be careful and be sure to be home before dark. Bad things, we all thought back then, skulked in the shadows and hid away from sunlight. There was still school to attend, and there were still friends to be visited and so on, and as long as I went straight home from school I had plenty of time to be in before dark, so that was fine.
It was on my way home from school that I suddenly found myself facing the missing father of the murdered girl. I froze, staring at him. He stared back at me. He seemed angry. He also seemed wrong, the way my grandfather's mottled skin, bowed neck and shaking hands seemed wrong. I could recognise illness, even if I couldn't name it, and I recognised illness in the man in front of me.
Then he called me her name. I tried to back away, tripped over something, maybe a manhole or maybe my own feet, and fell. He stepped forward, starting to say something, and then stopped as someone stood between us. From lying behind her, it was hard to be sure but she seemed about my age and size and to have the same sort of hair as me. He glared at her and raised a threatening hand.
"You're not so scary, really," she told him, standing firm. "You look big from down there on the floor, but you're just a man." Her voice dropped with each word, from defiance pitched to carry down to a calm put-down. It dropped lower still, becoming a hiss I could barely make out: "I'm not afraid of you, and I won't fall down for you."
At that point, my instincts took over from my conscious mind and I twisted away and set off like a sprinter from the blocks. I barely remember anything from the first push off the ground until I made it home, but I remember locking the front door behind me and running for the shower, feeling icky and gross as if he'd touched me all over and covered me with some sort of slime. I didn't recover my composure until long after the hot water ran out, then I turned off the cold shower, stepped out of the cubicle in my soaking-wet school uniform, drenching the carpet as I went, and got changed.
By the time the rest of my family got in, my uniform was drying and I'd calmed down, and two more bodies had been found: the second missing girl, in an overgrown field corner several miles away, and the man, in a quiet street between my school and my home. He'd bled out from an incredible number of wounds, including several on his arms where he'd cowered behind them.
No more girls went missing, and that was that.
There are just a couple of things that bother me, thinking back over it, two little details that have floated around in my mind, surfacing at quiet moments and nudging me.
One thing is that when she hissed at him, I'm not quiet sure she didn't say "I won't fall down for you again."
The other is that when I remember standing in the shower, turning round and round, looking up into the jet and down to the plughole, waiting for the water to make me feel clean, I sometimes remember waiting for the water to run clear ..... not pink.
Just finished reading the PDF version of the story (I had read the website version some time ago already)darkfire613 said:
It's 4:26am, ¬_¬ that story creeped me the fuck out
It's amazing how the end changes that much, even though I prefer the website version since it sounds more genuine.
It's 10:37, Screw you all, I'm not opening any of those spoilers. I am even too cautious to open the slender man one.