Creepypasta

[Icarus94]

Every time you exhale, a little bit of your soul escapes. Luckily, you almost always inhale it back before anyone else gets to it. Almost.

Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?

Don’t do that.

[phillip00]

Why do almost all of the Holders tasks start off in a mental institution or halfway house?

I'm only on #5 but I've been going through other ones and most of them are the same.

Also, how is the tattoo supposed to be an object if you cant look at it, and how would you get it?

[rokusas]

In any city, in any country, go to any Christmas tree you can get yourself to. Perhaps the one in your house if you have one. This must be done before midnight on Christmas Eve, but also late at night. Kneel in front of the tree, and ask to see the "Holder of Christmas." Should the lights turn off, then you should run out of the room and get to your bed. If you made it, you will wake up the next morning with a lump of coal under your tree. Consider yourself lucky.

If they flicker on and off very quickly, then you must strip all the decorations off the tree, but leave the lights and the star at the top. Do it quickly, before the lights turn blood red. If they do, then you will suffer terrible torture and and pain for the rest of eternity. When you are finished, kneel down in front of the tree once again and wait. If someone walks in, or something makes a noise, then the next time you blink everything will be as it was before, and it will be as if you had never attempted this. DO NOT try again, or they will get annoyed, and you would be better off not doing that. Once the tree's star starts shining, stand up and watch as it comes toward you. It will stop in front of you and a person's face will appear on it. It should be a woman. If it isn't, smash the star on the ground.

You may then ask her, "How does He celebrate?" Wait for a response. She will take one full minute to answer. When she does, she will tell you everything that He has done in past holidays, as well as what He will do in future ones. When she's finished, the star will return to normal. Look at the clock, it will be seconds before midnight. If you wait until midnight, then you will have failed and the object will be gone. Quickly put the star where it belongs and go to your bed. Close your eyes, and you will instantly fall asleep. Wake up the next morning, and whether you live alone and don't get presents, don't celebrate Christmas, or have a family, a present will be under your tree, neatly wrapped. Open it and and an ornament in the shape of a dagger will be there.

The ornament is object 138 out of 538. Rub it on Christmas Eve before you go to bed, and say the one thing you want for Christmas, though it may not have anything to do with the Seekers, Holders, or Objects. No matter how incredible it may be, it will be there. But please, do not attempt to summon the other objects with it. Amusing as it must be to them, you will not like the results.

[kakihara]

Feb 21, 2009 18:56:18 GMT -5 @rokusas said:

Close your eyes, and you will instantly fall asleep.

I wish I could instantly fall asleep when I get into bed and close my eyes, damn insomnia.

[rokusas]

It's 3AM on Hallowe'en night and you and your friends been up all night on a horror binge. You've watched your favorite scary movies, read your favorite scary stories, and even attempted the old "Bloody Mary" trick in your mirror. After your friends leave, you stretch and yawn, deciding now is about the time to hit the hay, so you move into your bedroom and lay down to sleep.

After awhile, however, you realize that you can’t get the images of some of the fictional creatures you saw on your television out of your head. "Meh...I’m going to hate myself for this tomorrow," you say aloud as you flick on your bedroom lamp, knowing that having a nightlight used to help get rid of your nightmares as a little kid. Within minutes you're close to sleep, snuggled up comfortably under the blankets with your eyes closed and more pleasant thoughts on your mind...

...that is, until you detect something moving in front of the light, casting a shadow over you. You blink, beginning to turn towards the lamp before a rotting hand grabs hold of your shoulder. "Thanks for turning on the light, I was having trouble finding you in the dark."

[rokusas]

bump
I can't be the dude for all the creepy. You guys can post too

[slytman]

Two hands

A man came back from vacation in Mexico with his friends. During his time there, he would only eat sushi in the all inclusive hotels,and nothing else. Perhaps due to the enormous consumption of raw fish and perhaps unsanitary conditions, the gentleman experienced stomach pains.

Perhaps thinking he may have caught a parasite, he decided to see a doctor about his condition. Talking to the doctor, he is told that he may have a tapeworm. The doctor tells him to remove his pants, as he will need to do some testing. The man winces in pain, as the doctor inserts an instrument into his rectum. The doctor tells him to relax. The man tries to relax, and feels the doctor's left hand on his shoulder. After a few minutes of probing, the man feels a bit more relaxed. Opening his eyes, to his horror, he realizes that both of the doctor's hands were on his shoulders.

[shilohdegreat]

Feb 28, 2009 0:26:04 GMT -5 slytman said:

Two hands

A man came back from vacation in Mexico with his friends. During his time there, he would only eat sushi in the all inclusive hotels,and nothing else. Perhaps due to the enormous consumption of raw fish and perhaps unsanitary conditions, the gentleman experienced stomach pains.

Perhaps thinking he may have caught a parasite, he decided to see a doctor about his condition. Talking to the doctor, he is told that he may have a tapeworm. The doctor tells him to remove his pants, as he will need to do some testing. The man winces in pain, as the doctor inserts an instrument into his rectum. The doctor tells him to relax. The man tries to relax, and feels the doctor's left hand on his shoulder. After a few minutes of probing, the man feels a bit more relaxed. Opening his eyes, to his horror, he realizes that both of the doctor's hands were on his shoulders.

True story, happened to me a few months ago.

[eckoback]

Feb 18, 2009 0:39:22 GMT -5 purdueman666 said:

Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…

Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.

Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.

You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now

Oh my God, I shit bricks.

[Amy]

Who Is Talking?

Sitting at a computer desk,playing an game[forgot which one]I hear my name being called out several times.A chill runs up my back as I sit up straight and drain it out with the sounds of the game.It continues every couple of minutes,I hear my sister's voice saying my name,after being freaked out,I talk to my sister.She replies with a what are you talking about,I didn't say anything.Then I ask everyone around the household,they reply with a what are you talking about.Walking back into the room I hear the voice once more before it suddenly stops.Who was that and why did they do it?Did my sister lie to me?Did someone other than my sister do that?Am I crazy or psycho?Questions that cannot be answered.

[racmaster00]

Leslie sat on the barstool, sipping a margarita. She’d hit a run of bad luck in the past few months. First her boyfriend Ricky left her, then she lost her job. She got a new job, but not as well paying, of course. So she had to move out of her house and into a cramped apartment. Her cat, Muffin, died. Her mother was ill, and needed her support, even though she couldn’t support herself. With all that bad luck, its little wonder that she let that guy sit next to her, buy her a drink, the same old routine. The fella’s name was Geoffry. He seemed nice enough, even if he was kind of a dweeb. He wore horn-rimmed glasses with a blue button down shirt, he wasn’t nerd-skinny, exactly, but he was kind of on the thin side.

They talked for awhile, and then she left the bar. The next day, as she was walking home from work, Leslie saw Geoffry again, standing at the bus stop a block away from her office building. “Hi, Leslie! Hey I was thinking maybe we could head down to the bar tonight. I really had fun last night.” She politely declined, and he said, “Okay, well, I’ll see you again.”

She left for work the next day, and guess who she saw? Geoffry was standing right there about a block from her house. “Hi Leslie! You wanna hook up tonight? I was thinking maybe a movie?” She politely declined, and went about her work. When she got home, she had a new message on the answering machine. [Hi, Leslie! It’s me, Geoffry. I just thought you might’ve changed your mind about the movies. Don’t make me keep asking, just call me, bye!]

The next morning, Leslie left for work. Geoffry was standing outside her door. “Hi Leslie! Why’d you stand me up last night, huh? I just want a chance, Leslie, we can try, right?” After 3 days of annoyance, Leslie caved. “Fine, Geoffry, we can try. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night? We’ll see how it goes, okay?”

Leslie sure was having a bad run of luck. Ricky was in hysterics when he left her, her cat was dead, and now Geoffry too. What was left of his corpse was found a week later…

[racmaster00]

Still no messages on my phone.

I guess he wasn’t going to call me back after all. I can’t really blame him, maybe I came on a bit too fast yesterday.
I had noticed him long before he noticed me. His shiny black hair and unnatural blue eyes. I wasn’t the only one watching him, that’s for sure. His movements were elegant in a boyish way. And his smile…his smile.
I would die for that smile.
Still no messages…
I thought about calling him, maybe apologize for going too fast yesterday. I’m a coward, I know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dial his number.
Besides he’d promised he’d contact me when he’s ready.

So I’ll wait. I’m patient.

I know, I’ll just casually stroll past his house. Just to see if he’s home. Maybe he’s out, that would explain why he couldn’t call me yet.
He only lives half an hour away anyway. Maybe he’s shy and is scared to call me. Silly boy. I’ll go to him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be scared. That I don’t mind if he needs time.

He lives pretty secluded in a farm on the outskirts of town. I can hear the sheep in the stables as I approach. My heart skips when I see there’s lights burning inside. He must be there, he told me yesterday his parents would be gone for the weekend. They left him to look after the sheep for those days. Poor baby, that must be hard work. He was probably just too busy to call me. I’ll have to stay here until his parents come back and help him take care of all those sheep.


I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he fell asleep. The thought of his beautiful face even more softened by sleep makes me smile. I try the door, it’s unlocked. There’s hardly any crime around here, so I guess locking the door is not needed. I try to be as quiet as possible as I sneak through the house. I want to surprise him. I cringe at every creak the stairs make as I climb them.
Finally I’ve reached the bedroom and I carefully open the door.

There he is, lying in bed as I thought. Quietly I switch on the nightlight on his desk so I can see his face.
His blue eyes are open, staring into space and his whole face is one bloody mess. His cheeks have been carved, the skin mostly removed and hanging loose on the sides of his face. He’s missing his fingernails, they are laid out on the bed carefully arranged. On his bare chest words are carved.

I look at him, my hands covering my mouth.
He’s still the same as I left him yesterday. He must have been so tired that he slept all day. How cute!
I softly kiss his forehead, making sure I don’t wake him. Then I write another message below the one on his chest, letting him know I’m here when he needs me.
I leave the room, heading back outside. I think it’s time for the sheep to go to sleep.
And tomorrow I’ll introduce myself to his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me too.

[racmaster00]

You volunteer at the mental health clinic. Given the dangerous nature of the residents, they assigned you the rooms of the less violent patients. The suicidal. Those who hear voices. Those that don’t say anything at all.

You become close to a mute man named Arthur. He is a rapt listener, willing to nod his head for hours as you tell him the story of your life. You mention your past, your present. The people involved in both. Your hopes for the future.

And Arthur just nods.

After several months of listening, you figure that you owe it to Arthur to get him out of the clinic. He can’t be happy sitting in a room by himself nodding at interns everyday. You talk to the supervisor of the clinic. You argue that he isn’t harming anyone. That he grooms and feeds himself with no problems. That perhaps his condition is a physical aliment.

The day comes when your arguing pays off. The supervisor has agreed to let Arthur go. You rush to his room to tell him the news. “You’re free!” You shout. “Isn’t that great?”

And Arthur just nods.

You write your name and address on a piece of paper. Hand it to him. “I’m going to miss having someone to talk to.” You say. “But now you can write me. I can learn all about you. Like why they were so insistent in having you in here, pal. I had to fight Dr. Thanner everyday to get you out.”

He looks at you and takes the paper. Just nods.

You go home, feeling good about yourself. You brag to everyone you can tell, friends, family, classmates, co-workers, about how you came through for Arthur. You even fall asleep with a smile.

That night, your eyes snap open. Screams, unearthly screams wake you up.

Then you see them. Your mother. Your father. Your friends. Your classmates. Your co-workers. Lying on your floor, their blood soaking into your carpet. Your walls stained with carnage. Their heads bashed in, their eyes missing from their sockets. Everyone you know dead or dying.

You whimper and see a man standing in the doorway.

It’s Arthur, holding the piece of paper you gave him.

Your entire body shaking, you choke out. “Are you here to kill me?”

And Arthur just nods.

[racmaster00]

A young girl walking home from school found a small pile of Polaroid photos lying in the gutter. There were twenty in all, neatly wrapped in a rubber band. She picked them up, and as she walked she started to browse. The first photo was that of a ghostly white man on a black background, standing just far enough away from the camera that she couldn’t make out his features. The girl slid the photo to the back of the stack and looked at the next one. The photo was of the same man now standing a bit closer. The girl flipped through the next several photos quickly. With each one the man in the picture came a bit closer and his features were a bit clearer. Turning the last corner to her house, the girl noticed that the man in the photos seems to be looking at her even when she moved the stack from side to side. It frightened her, but she kept flipping them over, one by one. By the nineteenth picture, the man was so close his face completely filled the frame. His expression was the most horrifying the girl had ever seen. Walking up the driveway, she turned to the last photo. This time, instead of an image, there were two words: “Close enough.” Hearing a scream, the girl’s brother rushed to the door and opened it. All he saw was a pile of photographs lying on the doorstep. The top one looked like an extremely pale version of his sister, but she was standing too far back for him to be sure.

[rokusas]

There's a small, inconspicuous building called "Padraic Willoughby & Co.," in the industrial district of Birmingham, England. Most of the time, its doors are locked and the windows are draped. However, on February 29th of every leap year, there will be a small plastic container outside the front door containing business cards. On the front of the card it says in large capital letters, "PADRAIC WILLOUGHBY & CO., ENGLAND'S THAUMATURGICAL SPECIALISTS". On the back, in nearly illegibly small type it says "The blood of the innocent."

Any night after midnight one can come to Padraic Willoughby & Co., and slide their card through the door, and the door will instantly unlock. Inside there is an empty room with white walls. No light reaches this room, except for a small sliver from the other end of the room. When you approach this room you will find that it is actually another door. When you knock on it, a voice will ask "What makes a man become exalted?" and you must respond with the phrase on the back of the card: "The blood of the innocent."

The door will open and you will come into another room, a kind of lounge. Inside it you will find around 5-10 people, depending on the night, sitting around smoking and drinking brandy, all in late Edwardian period dress. There is absolutely no conversation at all in this room and, it is nearly silent except for the phonograph which plays the exact same record over and over, ad infinitum. If you attempt to speak to one of the patrons, they will promptly ignore you and pretend as if you were not there.

Toward the south wing of the room you will find a large, round table, slightly different from the others. On it will be a quill pen and a document. The document shows all of your personal information: name, birth date, place of residence, criminal record, greatest fears, and so on. At the bottom of the document is a long line that asks for your signature. No one knows what happens if you sign it.