Creepypasta

[rokusas]

There was a girl who had an illness and was bed-ridden for the majority of her life. She was recently diagnosed to die within the next couple of months so her parents decided to spend as much time with her as they could before her time came. They decided that the best thing was to go camping at a local site for a little bit since the daughter was stuck in the hospital for so long.

On their way there, the girl was quiet as usual and laid in the back while the parents talked amongst themselves. When they finally reached their destination, they pitched the tent, unpacked everything and started a campfire. The mother was constantly filming the area and her daughter while the father went out for more firewood. It was getting dark when he came back, but he suddenly heard the mother scream so he rushed over to discover that his daughter was standing on her feet and was doing a wild, erratic ‘dance’ before she suddenly dropped dead.

After all the funeral processions and grieving subsided, the parents wanted to see the video the mother recorded on that very night. They put the tape in the player and began to watch. At first it just showed the mother looking at the scenery and random animals that passed by in the distance, but as the time frame skipped, it jumped to when she was inside the tent with the daughter as she stood up and began to jerk around.. But there was something wrong. It first was in the corner of their eyes but as they replayed the scene, their horror became more and more real.

The entire time the daughter was ‘dancing’, there was a ghastly white hand latched onto the top of her head.

[Phoenix]

This is a TRUE story

A few years ago a mother and a father decided they needed a break, they wanted to head out for a night on the town. So they called their most trusted babysitter.

When the babysitter arrived the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later in the night, the babysitter got bored and so she wanted to watch tv but she couldnt watch it downstairs because they didnt have cable downstairs (the parents didnt want their children watching too much garbage) so she called them and asked them if she could watch cable tv in the parents room.

Of course the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request. She asked if she could cover up the large clown statue in their bedroom with a blancket or cloth, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father(who was talking to the babysitter at the time) said.....take the children and get out of the house.....we'll call the police...we dont have a clown statue..... the children and the babysitter got out of the house safely, and the police later caught the clown impersontor running down the street.

It just so happens that the clown was a enraged killer, who had escaped from jail...He is now locked up and harm to knowone anymore.

[rokusas]

Mar 8, 2009 15:22:07 GMT -5 Phoenix said:

This is a TRUE story

A few years ago a mother and a father decided they needed a break, they wanted to head out for a night on the town. So they called their most trusted babysitter.

When the babysitter arrived the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later in the night, the babysitter got bored and so she wanted to watch tv but she couldnt watch it downstairs because they didnt have cable downstairs (the parents didnt want their children watching too much garbage) so she called them and asked them if she could watch cable tv in the parents room.

Of course the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request. She asked if she could cover up the large clown statue in their bedroom with a blancket or cloth, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father(who was talking to the babysitter at the time) said.....take the children and get out of the house.....we'll call the police...we dont have a clown statue..... the children and the babysitter got out of the house safely, and the police later caught the clown impersontor running down the street.

It just so happens that the clown was a enraged killer, who had escaped from jail...He is now locked up and harm to knowone anymore.

www.snopes.com/horrors/madmen/statue.asp

[phillip00]

Mar 8, 2009 15:22:07 GMT -5 Phoenix said:

This is a TRUE story

A few years ago a mother and a father decided they needed a break, they wanted to head out for a night on the town. So they called their most trusted babysitter.

When the babysitter arrived the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later in the night, the babysitter got bored and so she wanted to watch tv but she couldnt watch it downstairs because they didnt have cable downstairs (the parents didnt want their children watching too much garbage) so she called them and asked them if she could watch cable tv in the parents room.

Of course the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request. She asked if she could cover up the large clown statue in their bedroom with a blancket or cloth, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father(who was talking to the babysitter at the time) said.....take the children and get out of the house.....we'll call the police...we dont have a clown statue..... the children and the babysitter got out of the house safely, and the police later caught the clown impersontor running down the street.

It just so happens that the clown was a enraged killer, who had escaped from jail...He is now locked up and harm to knowone anymore.

Send this story to 5 friends or the clown will be waiting in your bedroom next!

[Dee-Rizzle]

Mar 8, 2009 15:22:07 GMT -5 Phoenix said:

This is a TRUE story

A few years ago a mother and a father decided they needed a break, they wanted to head out for a night on the town. So they called their most trusted babysitter.

When the babysitter arrived the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later in the night, the babysitter got bored and so she wanted to watch tv but she couldnt watch it downstairs because they didnt have cable downstairs (the parents didnt want their children watching too much garbage) so she called them and asked them if she could watch cable tv in the parents room.

Of course the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request. She asked if she could cover up the large clown statue in their bedroom with a blancket or cloth, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father(who was talking to the babysitter at the time) said.....take the children and get out of the house.....we'll call the police...we dont have a clown statue..... the children and the babysitter got out of the house safely, and the police later caught the clown impersontor running down the street.

It just so happens that the clown was a enraged killer, who had escaped from jail...He is now locked up and harm to knowone anymore.

I've heard this story before, accept it was in the form a chain mail. And the murderer was a pedophile, and a midget.

Meh.

www.angelfire.com/trek/caver/page1.html, "Ted the Caver."

It's an interesting story, but it took me about 3 hours to read. When you get some spare time, I'd suggest reading it, it's enjoyable.

[stompedyouout]

FRANTIC TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TOCK FRANTIC TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TOCK FRANTIC TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TOCK FRANTIC TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TOCK FRANTIC TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TOCK

[ziyaadxd]

Here's mine.

A man was hiking up a hill which was really deserted,he was the only one there.It was getting dark,and he needed to find a nice spot to rest for the night.As he was walking,up ahead he could see a small cottage,which seemed deserted.He knocked on the door,nobody answered.He turned the knob,it was unlocked.Sure enough,the house was deserted.

So,he put down his stuff,and laid out his sleeping bag on the floor.As he was laying out his sleeping bag,he saw paintings and portraits on the walls of the small cottage.All of the paintings had faces of people that looked really angry and pissed off.The faces were all staring at him.The man ignored them and fell asleep.

It was morning.The man felt the sun shine onto his face.He woke up and saw that the paintings had changed,there were no more faces,he could only see trees.Then he realised.....they weren't paintings at all.....

They were windows.

[rokusas]

what the fuck is this shit


There it goes again. Something definitely moved this time. It was very brief, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw something. But wait. All the doors are locked, no pets, and your parents won’t get home until 10. So there’s no way something moved. It’s just your imagination getting the best of you. Sitting alone in your room, the only light emitting from the monitor of your computer, you stare into the darkness for several minutes. Just to be sure. Now you feel silly. What were you thinking? Of course there’s nothing there. What, are you 6? Go back to what you were doing.

15 minutes later, as you prepare to go to bed, you’re in the bathroom. The shower curtains shift. Wait… no. Stop spooking yourself. It’s just an overactive imagination, filling your head with what isn’t really there. You gaze into the mirror at yourself. You say it to yourself, slowly and clearly, “Imagination.” With a sigh, you turn the lights off and head towards your room.

Laying in bed, you stare at your ceiling, dark and foreboding, only the motion of a small fan disturbing the calmness of the night. A shadow from the light in the hall shifts. No. No, no, no. Stop it. It’s your imagination. Just that. Go to sleep, you fool.

But then, just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, at the phase no one remembers when they wake, you sense something in the darkness. It’s your imagination, leering down at you. With a jagged, macabre smile.

LETS GO CREEPYPASTA LETS GO (WOO WOO)

[loginnameperson]

The Rake

During the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, humanlike creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed.

Primarily focused in rural New York state, self proclaimed witnesses told stories of thier enounters with a creature of unkown origin. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year.

In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. I’ve been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some exceprts from their upcoming book.

The Rake

A Suicide Note: 1964

As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake. Goodbye.

Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope.

‘Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed for you. He spoke your name.’

A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880

I have experience the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. They saw me and pierced me. His wet hand. I will not sleep. His voice (unintelligible text).

A Mariner’s Log: 1691

He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.

From a Witness: 2006

Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.

At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. I appologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. He then grabbed me and said nothing.

After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. It’s body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him.

My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature.

In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband’s face. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while) just looking at my husband. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids’ rooms.

I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.

The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said “he is the Rake”.

My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. He did not survive.

Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either.

For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent’s house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake.

It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. A ship’s log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. That was the last entry in the log.

There were, however, many instances where the creature’s visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.

I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)

On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. What I found was a shrill voice. It was the Rake. I can’t listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. I haven’t let anyone listen to it yet. All I know is that I’ve heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. I don’t remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment.

The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter’s head make me very upset.

I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. I know and fear that one night I’ll wake up to see him staring at me.

[haroot]

Ha, I wrote this back in the 9th grade. Didn't think I'd ever have a chance to dust it off again. I know it's not that scary, but back then I thought it was scare the teeth out of everyone.

Those Damned Eyes
I know what it is. But I don’t want to know what it is. It’s just staring. Staring at me. Into me. Its large, black, damned eyes are all I can look at. I can’t turn away from them. All I can see in my peripheral is what I assume is its face which is a pale white shade. But I can’t see anything else. My fearful eyes are fixed on those damned eyes. Large and wide with trembling, dilated, black pupils. I’m getting lost in them. They’re so deep that they are sucking me in, no matter how hard I want to look away. The things I see in these eyes are traumatizing. They make no sense. They’re not possible. But then again, I think this thing can make them possible. I see victims. My wife and children, my father, some little girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and so many others. It killed them all. It killed them and made sure I watched. My fearful eyes watched it all. I hated it, but I couldn’t look away. And I hate it, but I can’t look away. Somehow, at the same time, I feel those damned eyes staring at my soul. I don’t want to be here. I want to go. I can’t stand the sight of it. It’s horrid. DAMMIT LEGS MOVE. Good. I start moving. Slowly I back out of the door, my fearful eyes never breaking contact with those damned eyes. Once I get around the room corner, and the line of sight is severed, I turn and run out the front door. I just run. I don’t know where, I just don’t want to go back there. Where that thing is.
But it’s following me. I can see it out of the corner of my fearful eye every time I past a car. There’s no point in running, it’s already caught up to you. There’s no getting away from it. I never could. Why can’t it just kill me and be done with it? But I can’t stop running. Every inch of my body wants to get away from it. I slowly realize who it wants. I have to give her warning. I turn down the alley to my mother’s house. I should have it would go for her. It hated her. It hated a lot of people, but it hated her more. I kick in the door in hope I’m not t- it’s too late. It’s there. With my mother laying next to it. Bloody with stab wounds. I look in her eyes and see them filled with confusion. Why did it kill her? Why? She didn’t know. But you can also see some acceptance in those eyes of hers. She somehow knew something like this was coming. She blamed herself. Like mothers usually do. It’s my fault. Because of me my mother’s dead. I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. I can’t stop it. I can just watch. Watch with my fearful eyes. I look up and lock eyes with its damned eyes again. Damn. What the Hell does it want? That’s a stupid question. I know want it wants. It wants me to suffer. It wants to fill its bloodlust. No time to mourn. I back away. It worked last time and it worked again.
I make my way back out into the night. It’s following me again. The few people around see it and are stricken with fear. All eyes on it. All worried eyes. They aren’t sure what to make of it. The pale thing covered in blood. They know what it is. They all heard about it on the news. As did I. But I knew of it long before everyone else. It wants them as well, but they’re not as important to it. A man confronts me. “Hey hold up, what’s going on?” Before I can tell him to get the Hell out of here the thing beats me to him and kills him. Stabbed to death. All I can do is watch. It likes the look in the man’s eyes. It sees that fear in him. You can see the satisfaction in its damned eyes. It’s what it likes. What it strives for. The sick bastard. But it likes my fearful eyes better. The fear in them pleasures it more. I know better than to lock them again. I start my run again and yell at the spectators to run. They listen. It wants them. But it wants me to be there. I can lead it away. It will get me eventually, no point in letting it get others. It already got so many dozens. Skinned them, feasted on them, tortured them; it depended on the person. He removes their eyes. He enjoys looking back at them. Seeing the fear in them. I may be the main course, but it wouldn’t mind taking down anyone else in the way. I need to get it away from other people.
I head towards the old construction site. The work got put on hold for a while. It should be empty. As I go, I yell at it to leave me alone, it doesn’t respond. It won’t go away. It begins to rain. It likes the rain and shows itself more. As I run, I catch its damned eyes again. It’s not fitted for this world. As much as it wants me, I want to kill it. I know what I have to do. I make my way into the site. For once I don’t see it. No, wait, there it is on the ground. I know what I have to do. It doesn’t deserve death though. It deserves some damage first. There’s an electric saw next to me. This will do. There’s rain pouring in here but it will be fine. I plug it in and wait. Let it come to me. Of course it does. It stabs at me, but I grab its arm. I’m hesitant, but I know I have to. I press the saw blade into the arm, severing it just below the elbow. It screams in pain. I give it a quick slice across the chest as well. The rain causes the saw to die on me. Damn. I drop it and grab the things arm. With as much force as I can, I stab it. Stab and stab. For the man on the street, for my parents, for my family, for that little girl, for all of them, and finally for me. For everyone it’s hurt. And like that, it’s done. If only I did it earlier. But I was too much of a coward.
I collapse, a puddle at my face. It collapsed as well and is dying in front of me. It’s getting what it deserves. Lying there and dying. We lock eyes again. We both can’t help but laugh. It’s all over now. No it’s not. There’s one last thing to do. I grab its eye. I pull and pull until it comes out with a gush of blood. Now the other one. A hard tug and it’s out. I have them those damned eyes in my hand. I drop them and pick up the arm again. With my last bit of strength I stab it one last time between where those damned eyes once sat. As I fade away, I hear sirens. The police are here. I’m surprised they found us. They are ready to shoot until their eyes come across us. They see a severed arm with a death clutch on a knife. The man who lost that arm is not only eyeless, but holding it with the one still attached. And the said knife is jammed into the forehead of the said man. He has a large gash across his chest, covered in blood, riddled with stab wounds, and is laughing at his reflection in a puddle. Two pairs of eyes sit in the man’s pocket and a third pair lays on the ground next to him. A damned and fearful pair of eyes. They see me. They see him. They see us. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I know what it is. It’s me. And it’s dying. I’ll never see those damned eyes again.

[unionfreak72]

yeah its not that the image itself is scary, its the story combined with the image

[jamestheironpeach]

tl:dr

[undeadflame]

I miss this thread :C

[faellie]

Mar 1, 2009 15:30:10 GMT -5 racmaster00 said:

i've been looking for this story for quite some time, and i finally found it again, so here it is

A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows, but one won’t close. She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.

In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.

Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog, with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.

Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog’s blood are the words “HUMANS CAN LICK TOO”.

Wow. That was incredible. I read everything. All 9 pages of it. I'm glad that you posted in this thread undead, or I never would have known it was there. Have to say, though, my favorite was this one. I got all weird once I finished reading it. Great thread. ;D

[WeWantFun]

This is an awesome thread. Roku, i gotta ask, where did you get all of those stories? Especially the ones about the objects, those sounds so elaborate, i was drawn into them incredibly fast. Especially the christmas tree one

Great thread ;D