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 This forum needs more creepypasta.

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Romanadvoratrelundar

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PostSubject: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:07 pm

...yup. Because you're not safe, not even here.
So! *rubs hands together* Who wants to go first?
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:12 pm

Go to sleep.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:15 pm

That must be hard to do if you don't HAVE ANY EYELIDS.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:18 pm

"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. Its 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. They 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."
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:21 pm

o3o
Do you still have the one with Slendy and the hay bales? If not, I'm runnnin' some Jeff.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:24 pm

I might. Lemme' find it.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:26 pm

AND THERE WAS MUCH REJOICING.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 9:54 pm

Wow, no one likes us...
... everyone loves Sammi, though.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 10:15 pm

*sigh*
Well, you've probably heard it already, but here's the Rugrats Theory.
(for the record, I haven't watched Rugrats in years, by the brilliant song brought it to my attention. Text me, I'll send you the link.) And no. I'm not bothering to indent.

The Rugrats really were a figment of Angelica's imagination.
Chuckie died a long time ago along with this mother, that's why Chaz is a nervous wreck all the time.
Tommy was a stillborn, that's why Stu is constantly in the basement making toys for the son who never had a chance to live.
The DeVilles had an abortion, Angelica couldn't figure whether it would be a boy or a girl thus creating the twins.
As for "All Grown Up" the teenage Angelica became addicted to various narcotics which further aggravated her Schizophrenia, bringing her back to her childhood and thus her creations she obsessed over, because of time lapse between the present and the last time she interacted with her creations, she made them older. Angelica was constantly taking hits of acid, so she would never have to live without her creations who were her only company. In a judgemental world, Angelica's mom actually died of a heroine overdose and Drew in his depression married a gold digging whore that Angelica idolized because she fooled herself into thinking it was her real mom but always had a concept of her mom, Cynthia, and took a barbie doll and made it after her mom's image, wearing an unwashed orange dress and having jacked up hair, which is why she was so attached to it. Later in life she followed in her mom's footsteps with drugs and everything, dying of overdose at age 13 when All Grown Up! was "cancelled".

The only rugrat not to be fictional however, was stillborn Tommy's brother Dil. However, Angelica didn't know the difference between Dil and her creations, although Dil didn't follow her commands. After endless crying and a refusal to disappear like the others did when Angelica was angry with them, she hit him. Due to this, he sustained a brain hemorrhage, which resulted in a deformation. As he grew up, his damage only became more evident and by the time he was 9 in "All Grown Up!" he lived as an outcast, being ridiculed for his weirdness and retardation. The immense guilt over this is what led Angelica to her drug use and is what led Angelica to un-create the Rugrats briefly, until her experience with hallucinogenics.

On a trip to Paris to find love, Chaz married a woman named Kira (He was actually going to marry a different woman named Coco, but she just wanted him for his money.) who had a daughter named Kimi that was torn from her because she was a cocaine addict (Angelica imagined her from Kira's stories). He lost his mind after the death of his wife and was in denial that she was ever prostitute. Upon return to America, Chaz and Kira married and she got her greencard. It was actually a really happy and romantic story. Kira continually stuggled with addiction, but was relatively happy with her life and Chaz

Suzie was actually Angelica's only friend, who entertained the thought of Angelica's creations, for her sake. Angelica spent the last days of her life in the back of the school cafeteria, imagining friends around her and playing with the lives of her creations.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 10:32 pm

That's depressing. D:
Found the story. :3

It was a few weeks ago that the hay bales started creeping slowly away from the house. Every morning when I woke up, each had moved a few hundred feet from where it was before. I assumed it was pranksters with nothing better to do, and I so I ignored it. Within a few days, though, the bales began to approach the boundaries of the farm. I was tired of the whole game by then, and decided to move them back. It took a tedious hour to bring them all from where they were to over near the house again, and by the time I was done I was ready to snap the neck of whatever little pissant was deciding to screw with me.
The next morning, I found each and every one of my horses messily decapitated. The smell was what woke me up. Each one was slumped over against the side of its stall. There were no signs of the heads. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the mess and burying the remains. It was only when I was done that I noticed the bales of hay had all returned to their positions from the day before, scattered far out into the fields. This time I left them where they were.
That night I sat on my porch with my shotgun in hand and a pot of coffee on the table beside me. I sat for hours, straining my eyes into the fields to catch a glimpse of who was moving my hay bales. Finally, I was beginning to nod off. I would have, but just as my eyes began to close I heard a clamor and a rustling of trees from the nearby woods. I leaned forward, my heart racing with excitement; I was going to catch the bastard. I fumbled with my gun and fidgeted in my seat, waiting anxiously for whoever it was to get close enough to ambush. It was only when the thing got close enough for me to make out its silhouette in the dark that I was frozen still. The thing that crept into my fields from the nearby woods didn’t seem to notice me sitting there. It stalked, hunched and deliberate, through the field with the posture of a tiptoeing thief. If not for the fact that it must have towered to over ten feet tall even in its crouched position, it might have seemed almost frail. The thinness of its arms and legs and the emaciated, caved-in quality of its chest reminded me of a starving animal. Still, this thing was undeniably strong, and I watched it hoist each bale up into its arms with ease, and set it down carefully a while away, taking only a few strides to cover the distance. I watched it work, moving each bale thoughtfully. Every once in a while it would straighten up to look around at the other bales’ positions in the field, before adjusting the one it was working on ever so slightly.
Before it left, it looked towards the house. I felt its eyes sweep over me in the dark, but whether it saw me or not I couldn’t tell. Then, it turned silently and crept back the way it came, disappearing into the dark of the woods. It took me an hour before I had the courage to move at all. I went inside after a while, but didn’t sleep that night. It was only when the sun rose that I dared step off my porch into the fields. The hay bales were where it left them. Strangely, it didn’t move them as far as it had in the previous days. They were approaching something invisible in the fields, and as I looked at them I realized that they seemed to be marking some line. Indeed, as I walked around the house, I saw the distinct circle that they formed with me at the center. At first I thought the bales were just being haphazardly moved away from the house, but now I could see that they were instead being moved towards some boundary. The thing was sending me a message. I slept uneasily that night, and only because I was exhausted.
The next morning the bales hadn’t moved at all. They didn’t move at all for the rest of that week, in fact. They were finally where the thing wanted them. I made myself sick trying to interpret them. Why would this thing expend so much energy moving my hay bales, and threaten me with such violence should I try to interfere? Killing my horses was just that – a threat. An intelligent threat, at that. It knew what would scare me, and it knew that I would understand the implications.
The sound of an automobile working its way along the road to my farm one morning gave me a little rush of excitement. I’d been planning to abandon the farm since I saw the thing, but I couldn’t hope to leave on foot without risking it treating me like it treated my horses. But, if I could get in the car with whoever was coming my way, I might be able to escape before it could stop me. I didn’t know or care who it was. I decided that the moment they stopped the car, I would jump in the passenger’s seat and tell them to get the hell out of here. I didn’t get the chance.
The car worked its way slowly along the road, trundling across the uneven ground. I urged it silently to hurry. It was when it passed between the two bales placed on either side of the road that I began to hear a booming clatter from the woods. The thing burst suddenly from between the trees, sprinting on all four of its terrible, gangly limbs towards the car. Within a few seconds it was there, pouncing on the automobile like a predatory cat. Within moments it was picking and peeling the vehicle’s steel frame apart, working to get at the driver. The man, whoever he was, screamed all the while and I could hear him even over the crunching of metal and the shattering of glass. It was only when the thing crushed him carelessly in its hand that the screaming stopped. It tossed him away, and straightened up to look at me once again. In the sunlight, I could see the inhumanity of it. It was composed entirely of something awful and alive which was lashed together in a messy semblance of a human form. Whatever it was made of looked so polished and hard, that if it weren’t for the minute writhing of the stuff, I’d think it was made of granite.
The thing retreated back into the woods, and I was left to my shock. My eyes wandered to where the car sat, the engine still sputtering, between two of the hay bales. Suddenly, I understood. The message was clear. I am this thing’s captive, and I am not allowed visitors. Nothing may cross the borders it has set. I’m trapped here, by the thing that stalks the fields, and it demands nothing except that I never leave. Still, I don’t know if I can handle being that thing’s canary. I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days since I saw it crush that man’s chest, and silence him before he could finish his scream. If I crossed the hay bale border, it’d probably do the same. It’d smash my skull before I could put my hands up to protect myself. It’d go and find a new pet, and probably keep looking until it found someone who could stand knowing that it was waiting just outside, watching it at all hours with its shiny, insect eyes.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 11:03 pm

Oh, that was the Rake and not Slendy. xD I LIKE SLENDY BETTER SO HERE'S SOME. Very Happy

After waking up with a jolt, the girl laid in bed a few seconds longer. Reaching over to switch on her bedside lamp, she tried to remember exactly what had stolen her sweet slumber away. When she couldn’t, the brunette swung her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself up. Checking the time on her phone, she snorted when she saw it was midnight; the witching hour. Knowing that sleep would only evade her, she left her bedroom for the kitchen, a good cup of coffee on her mind.

As she passed by her front door, a chill spread like liquid fire down her spine. It’s only Winter, she told herself, focusing again on the coffee plan. Measuring out scoops, water, and preparing her cup kept her occupied, but as the dark liquid boiled, she had nothing left to keep her mind from wandering off. The chill returned and she couldn’t help but glance behind her to the front door. It stood there innocently enough, just like always. The deadbolt was still in place and she could see nothing amiss with it. Turning back to her coffee, she did her best to forget about the feeling.

With her cup in hand, she started back towards her bedroom. As she walked by the front door, she decided that a quick glance out of the peep hole would help calm her restless thoughts. The chill worsened with each step she took towards the door and further away from the safety and warmth of her blankets. She pressed her empty hand against the cold, metal door and took a deep breath before leading her eye to the peep hole.

At first, she could only see an inky blackness and somehow seemed to swirl in itself. When she blinked in surprise, the void melted away. She wished it hadn’t. In it’s place, there stood what she could only guess was once a man. The limbs were long and inhumanly awkward, with bulky joints branching off into several arms, not unlike the branches of a tree. The creature was draped in a black suit, somehow making the thing more nightmarish to her. The icing on the proverbial cake, however, was what passed as the hellish thing’s face. It was as though her mind blurred the ghastly visage to spare itself further shock and horror.

She shoved herself away from the door with the hand still pressed against it. The scalding mug of coffee fell, the liquid burning her bare legs as she fell backwards and tried to crawl away from the door. She knew, somehow, that her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her. As she crab walked away from the door, she watched as tendrils as black as the void itself snake around through the cracks. The girl was trapped between the instinct to flee and the gut feeling to not turn her back on the door. When the door jolted, the urge to flee overcame her and she slipped in the burning liquid as she tried to make it back to her room.

She knew deep down that she was trapping herself in a corner, but she had to get away from the door. The girl was halfway down the hallway when she heard the previously locked door creak open. She screamed and slipped into a wall, cracking her chin on it and stunning her.

After that, there was only blackness.

-

“Nicole?” a warm, male voice snapped the woman out of her trance. As she turned around, she was met by one of her sister’s doctor’s. She nodded, not sure if she should say anything, or even if she could find her voice if she did have something to say. That morning, she had gotten an urgent phone call from the hospital, saying that her sister, Lindsay, was there. Before they had even let her see her, the doctor’s had pulled her off to the side and insisted that they talk to her about what might have happened. Phrases like ‘self-inflected’ and ‘assault’ had been thrown around and Nicole felt her mind reel.

She still hadn’t fully understood what they had been saying until she saw Lindsay with her own eyes. Her little sister had a bandage wrapped around her head, covering both of her ears as well as her eyes. They said it was to keep her now deadened eyes from drying out and to try to keep infection out of the wounds Lindsay had made to her ears. The doctors had guessed that either she or someone else had jammed a pencil into them to keep her off balance or to deafen herself against something. There was the mix of first and second degree burns on her hands, legs, and feet, from what was assumed to be the coffee her neighbors found slipped all over the entry to her apartment.

As Nicole walked into her sister’s hospital room the first time, she thought she had spied the silhouette of a man in the window. That, she knew, was impossible. Her sister’s room was on the third story of the hospital.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 11:10 pm

I've heard of that one... D:
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 11:49 pm

Yeah, I'll try to find a better one next time.
Your turn? :3
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Wed Aug 08, 2012 11:51 pm

I don't have the balls to read Squidward's Suicide. D: Help.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:16 am

Lirin wrote:
I don't have the balls to read Squidward's Suicide. D: Help.
asdfghjkl me neither. I'm not letting you ruin Spongebob for me, Internet.
And since it's late and I don't want to do anything too scary (NO, YOU GO TO SLEEP, JEFFERY), here's a new twist on an old classic. Or vise versa.

I was sharing a passionate kiss with my romantic interest, when my cellular phone alerted me that someone wished to converse with me. The man on the phone inquired as to what I was engaging in with his daughter. Assuming this man was my romantic interest's father, I explained the conversation I had to her. She informed me that her father was deceased. That is when I thought to myself, "If her father is dead, then who was conversing with me on the cellular phone?"
And then a human skeletal structure appeared. 
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:32 am

THEN WHO WAS PHONE, MADDIE.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:34 am

I WAS PHONE
also, it's past eleven-thirty y u no sleeping
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:35 am

Who sleeps at 11:35?
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:43 am

Not you, clearly. So, not me either, by default.
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PostSubject: Re: This forum needs more creepypasta.    Thu Aug 09, 2012 9:07 pm

Alright. Not-quite-creepypasta; another theory. I know you don't like Adventure Time, but I know you love post-apocalyptic nonsense, so you might find this interesting. I think it's pretty cool.


This is kinda old news for most of the internet, but for those who don’t know, Adventure Time takes place in a post-apocalyptic setting as revealed by its creator.
According to the show, 1000 years ago the “Mushroom War” took place, and it is speculated that “Mushroom” refers to the mushroom clouds made in the explosion of nuclear bombs. Since then, life has begun anew, and mutation has caused quite a variety of new creatures.

In practically every episode, there is reference to our, now dead, civilization in the backgrounds. Broken buildings and cars and the like are usually partially buried in a lot of settings. In the opening of the show, dud nuclear missiles and broken pieces of tech are scattered in a wasteland and a gray and red (zombie-like) arm reaches out of a tree.

The earth is shown to have a chunk of it missing (It looks like North/South America is almost gone?). In the episode “The Linch”, the group travels over a body of water following the Linch to his lair, where he appears to use toxic waste (possibly from the nuclear war) to fuel his power. His hideout is in a destroyed subway station, and upon entering Finn and Jake are attacked by possesed modern-dressed skeletons, as if the people died in a bombing waiting for their train. On the surface just outside, tanks and more dud bombs can be seen.

In the episode “Susan Strong”, the Hyoomen species lives in an underground abandoned city, where humans may have tried to live after/during the war before dying off or mutating.

It is mentioned several times in the series that Finn is the last human, or that humans haven’t been seen for a long time. Marceline and the Ice King are speculated to be survivors of the the Mushroom War because of their ages.

Just saying.
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