Scratch

BlatantToast wrote:

"Creepypasta: are short scary/horror stories that are regularly posted on message boards or sent via email. Good ol' knowyourmeme. Therefore, the scary stories you have written are just scary stories you have written, and not creepypasta. Therefore, this is a "Scary Story Writing" thread. Therefore, it should be in MaC.
Or something

it SHOULD be in misc.

BlatantToast wrote:

samid11 wrote:

BlatantToast wrote:

"Creepypasta: are short scary/horror stories that are regularly posted on message boards or sent via email. Good ol' knowyourmeme. Therefore, the scary stories you have written are just scary stories you have written, and not creepypasta. Therefore, this is a "Scary Story Writing" thread. Therefore, it should be in MaC.
Or something

it SHOULD be in misc.

I don't know if you've noticed, but there is no Misc., and MaC is better suited for what this is, no?

Yes, but you can have the scratch team put it under the section Misc even though it's retired.

Garr8 wrote:

samid11 wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

My name is Oliver (not my real name). I live in South Carolina (I don't really live in S.C.). South Carolina has lots of haunted places and I've been to a few. There was one man who lived in a old broken down house in a poor neighborhood. "It's been 'round since the Civil War" the old man would say. "The former owner of the home was a Confederate soldier who died in that war." I was 21 and was looking for a house to buy when I saw the old man move out. "Why are you moving out?" I asked. "He appeared to me and told me to get out" the old man looked as if he saw a ghost. 'Who did?" I asked. The man put a finger to his lips "I cannot speak his name." I asked the man if I could move in and he said I could for free. I know I should not live in a cruddy ol' house, but I needed a home and it was better than nothing. I immediately decorated the home with a rocking chair, an old picture my mom gave me of her and dad, and an old table.

I went to sleep that night but was awoken by an eerie creaking sound. It sounded like it was from downstairs. Someone has broken into my home and is on my rocking chair I thought.

I armed myself with a pistol and tip toed downstairs to investigate. No one was in the house and the rocking chair was not moving. I went back to bed and heard the creaking noise again.

Oh crud. I thought. The rocking chair was rocking all by itself. it was haunted!
As i put my feet on the floor , the rocking immediately ceased. I went downstairs getting ready to take the chair apart until I almost passed out when I saw the picture frame. The picture of mom and dad was replaced by Smile. jpg. Its blank eyes would follow wherever i went. I also saw the Rebel Flag which wasn't there before.

"Get out of my house!" I heard a ghostly voice with a typical Southern accent.

I will work on the rest later.

Tell me what did you think of it?

AND THEN A COWBOY POPPED OUT

I'm nor finished. And I lied, I really am from South Carolina

And I'm a unicorn from alabama.

samid11 wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

samid11 wrote:

AND THEN A COWBOY POPPED OUT

I'm nor finished. And I lied, I really am from South Carolina

And I'm a unicorn from alabama.

And I'm a fork in the road.

Sausagefanclub wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

Here is my creepypasta continued...

As i heard the voice, i turned to see the scariest and most gruesome figure ever. A deathly pale man stood before me, his eyes were hollow and he had a scary grin. He was clad in a gray 19th century uniform. What scared me most was that his teeth was like a television screen, showing apocallyptic events that are to come.

"Get out" he said.

"Who are you?" I asked, I shuddered."I am the Guardian of the House" he said, his teeth portraying many people being beheaded.
"No" I replied
"An unfriendly screech was relesed from the appirition. His teeth portrayed the

headless people getting up and walking towards me.
'Leave and I will no longer haunt thee" the ghost said.
"No"  I said again.
"Fine", said the Protector, "You will regret thy foolishness."
I gazed at the Rebel Flag and saw it had a tear in the middle of it. No, it was not a tear, it was a mouth, and it grew larger, eventually devouring me and the whole house

Im finished. I dont think it is that scary, but what did you think?

It's good, although I've always felt that creepypastas narrated in 3rd person generally sound better, especially if the main character dies at the end.

I did not know that, thx. Oh by the way, did you mean good as in scary?

samid11 wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

Sausagefanclub wrote:

It's good, although I've always felt that creepypastas narrated in 3rd person generally sound better, especially if the main character dies at the end.

I did not know that, thx. Oh by the way, did you mean good as in scary?

Wait, maybe he DIDN'T DIE!    He's still alive inside the rebel flag :3

I wonder what it would look like inside the flag?

samid11 wrote:

BlatantToast wrote:

samid11 wrote:

it SHOULD be in misc.

I don't know if you've noticed, but there is no Misc., and MaC is better suited for what this is, no?

Yes, but you can have the scratch team put it under the section Misc even though it's retired.

I don't see the point, but okay bro

NeilWest wrote:

samid11 wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

My name is Oliver (not my real name). I live in South Carolina (I don't really live in S.C.). South Carolina has lots of haunted places and I've been to a few. There was one man who lived in a old broken down house in a poor neighborhood. "It's been 'round since the Civil War" the old man would say. "The former owner of the home was a Confederate soldier who died in that war." I was 21 and was looking for a house to buy when I saw the old man move out. "Why are you moving out?" I asked. "He appeared to me and told me to get out" the old man looked as if he saw a ghost. 'Who did?" I asked. The man put a finger to his lips "I cannot speak his name." I asked the man if I could move in and he said I could for free. I know I should not live in a cruddy ol' house, but I needed a home and it was better than nothing. I immediately decorated the home with a rocking chair, an old picture my mom gave me of her and dad, and an old table.

I went to sleep that night but was awoken by an eerie creaking sound. It sounded like it was from downstairs. Someone has broken into my home and is on my rocking chair I thought.

I armed myself with a pistol and tip toed downstairs to investigate. No one was in the house and the rocking chair was not moving. I went back to bed and heard the creaking noise again.

Oh crud. I thought. The rocking chair was rocking all by itself. it was haunted!
As i put my feet on the floor , the rocking immediately ceased. I went downstairs getting ready to take the chair apart until I almost passed out when I saw the picture frame. The picture of mom and dad was replaced by Smile. jpg. Its blank eyes would follow wherever i went. I also saw the Rebel Flag which wasn't there before.

"Get out of my house!" I heard a ghostly voice with a typical Southern accent.

I will work on the rest later.

Tell me what did you think of it?

AND THEN A COWBOY POPPED OUT

IT WAS THE DAY OF ALL THE BLOD!

Garr8 wrote:

Sausagefanclub wrote:

Garr8 wrote:

I did not know that, thx. Oh by the way, did you mean good as in scary?

Well written and decently scary. Although it's not enough to keep me awake at night. 

btw, want to see what I have so far on "Mr. Mayor's Pocket Dial"?

Yes plz. That cliff hanger is killing me

Ok. Yeah, it's about time I repost this story. This isn't the full version of what I have at the moment though; I left a few paragraphs out since they're still in development.
So, here's what I've got:

Mr. Mayor's Pocket Dial

Mr. Sausage Man was playing checkers with Mr. Ribs when it happened. The phone rang four times before Mr. Ribs picked it up. “Hello?” He could hear someone screaming with glee in the background, as well as the sound of Lady Lettuce announcing the news on someone else’s TV. Nobody responded, but he could hear slow breathing and a cough every now and then, followed by a moan. There was also a strangely peculiar buzzing noise. He turned on the speaker so that Mr. Sausage Man could hear. Curious, Mr. Sausage Man walked to the phone and checked the caller ID. The caller was Mr. Mayor. Immediately, the person on the other line hung up. “Something’s not right… Mr. Mayor never pocket dials anyone.” Mr. Sausage Man said. “Definitely. You should probably go and investigate.” Mr. Ribs agreed. Mr. Sausage Man nodded and headed toward the garage door. He looked back at Mr. Ribs. “You coming?” Mr. Sausage Man asked. “I guess… Sure.” Mr. Ribs followed him into the teleporter machine they had borrowed from Mr. Noodle last week.

    Once they arrived, Mr. Ribs took a look around the mayor’s
mansion. “Man, it sure has been a while since the last time I came here… the mayor’s birthday party…” He said. Mr. Sausage Man could hear the buzzing noise in the background. There was also the sound of static coming from the nearby room. Lady Lettuce had finished her news report, so the TV station was currently off-air. Mr. Ribs walked into the room and turned the TV off. “No use wasting power on a TV that doesn’t work.” Now the house was plunged in silence, except for the eerie buzzing noise. It was coming from upstairs. “I think that’s where the call came from. Follow me.” Mr. Sausage Man said as he hopped up the stairs. The light in the bathroom was on. There was some red liquid soap spilled on the doorknob. “Looks like somebody forgot to dry their hands…” Mr. Ribs said in an amused tone. “Hey, the buzzing sound’s coming from in there.” Mr. Sausage Man said. He walked through the door and turned to look at the bathroom sink. Suddenly he took a few steps back and gasped in shock.

    An unrecognizable man was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His intestines were scattered around the room. One of the man’s eyes was popped and hanging out of its socket, staring directly at the floor. The other eye was nowhere to be found. There were cuts all over his body, and a pile of hair on the ground. Mr. Sausage Man spotted a top hat lying nearby. “Mr.… Mayor?” The mayor’s razor was lying next to his head. It was still running. Mr. Ribs chose not to turn it off, afraid that the pure silence would scare the grease out of him. There were a few footprints in the blood leading out of the room. “So that was a scream of fear, not glee…” Mr. Ribs muttered sadly. “…Obviously someone murdered him, because of these footprints. It couldn’t have been an accident since Mr. Mayor never uses his razor anyway.” Immediately after he finished his sentence, a thump came from the room above them. Mr. Ribs’ eyes widened. “The murderer… he’s still here.” Mr. Sausage Man looked at him. “Well, you know we shouldn’t just stand here and mourn over the mayor’s death! That can be done later. We need to make sure Mrs. Mayor is still alive!” “Way ahead of you, Sausage…” Mr. Ribs said as he took a small knife out of a cabinet. “…Let’s kill the killer!”

    Mr. Sausage Man stepped on a secret panel in the hallway near the bathroom. “Scan complete.” An electronic female voice said. “Access granted.” A formerly hidden elevator opened up inside of the wall. The murderer upstairs continued to stir up noise, repeatedly getting louder, suddenly going completely silent, and then making a large racket again. “He definitely knows we’re here by this time… There’s no turning back now.” Mr. Sausage Man warned. They stepped inside the elevator and the doors closed. The buttons on the wall numbered from 1 to 10. “Wait, this place has TEN floors? I only saw 3 floors on the exterior!” Mr. Ribs whispered. “The upper seven floors are secret. They’re covered by a cloaking device on the outside. Mr. Mayor is very sentimental about his stuff, so he keeps his most precious possessions in these secret floors. This is the only elevator- no, the only ENTRANCE to the upper levels. I’m guessing the killer is after those items.” Mr. Sausage Man replied. “So… why do YOU have access to this elevator?” Mr. Ribs questioned. “Dude, ever heard of trust? It’s a thing friends do when they’ve known you for a while.” Mr. Sausage Man snapped back. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about those other 7 floors. The killer’s on the 3rd floor right now, remember?” The elevator stopped moving and jerked to a stop with a moan. “Well, we’re here. Be prepared for anything.” Mr. Sausage Man said as he drew out his Sausage Sword.

    Mr. Ribs opened a closet. “Nope, nobody in here.” “You silly piece of meat. Killers don’t hide in closets. They fight. So wherever he is, you know he’s gonna be in plain sight.” Mr. Sausage Man responded. “Hey, that rhymes! Fight, sight!” Mr. Ribs said. “Focus, Ribs. Why should you act so happy when one of my closest friends just got killed less than 10 minutes ago?” Mr. Sausage Man said in an annoyed tone. “Right, sorry. Just trying to stay positive. After all, you stay positive all the time, even when The Burgerlar steals your stuff.” Mr. Ribs shut the closet door. “Well, this is serious. Tell me, has The Burgerlar EVER tried to kill somebody? No. He just steals things, because he’s just a mentally challenged jerk. Now, let’s stop talking. The killer could be trying to find us right now.” Mr. Sausage Man looked around suspiciously. A crazed laugh suddenly erupted from one of the rooms. It echoed throughout the entire mansion. It belonged to a female voice. Mr. Ribs started shaking. He wanted to say something, but he knew Mr. Sausage Man would just shut him up again. Besides, Mr. Sausage Man was smart enough to know that the murderer was actually a woman without someone else having to inform him. Then the laugh repeated itself. However, this time it was louder. It sounded more like a combination of a chuckle… and a painful scream. “Mrs. Mayor!” Mr. Sausage Man shouted. “We need to move NOW!” Mr. Sausage Man and Mr. Ribs followed the sound of the scream and rammed the door down. Immediately Mr. Ribs regretted his decision to come along with Mr. Sausage Man.

    Mrs. Mayor was leaning against a wall, facing away from them. She was drenched with blood. “Come out and fight me, you psychopath!” Mr. Sausage Man shouted in fury as he searched for the killer. Mrs. Mayor suddenly turned around and faced them. “Huh...? There’s no psychopath in here… It’s only me, heh heh…” She whispered. “Mrs. Mayor, there’s somebody in this room WHO’S TRYING TO KILL YOU!” Mr. Sausage Man warned. Mrs. Mayor began to laugh. It sounded just like the crazed laugh they had heard earlier. “Oh, you guys and your funny jokes. Nobody else has been here today except for me, you, and my… husband…” Mrs. Mayor let loose another insane, bloodcurdling laugh as she said the word “husband”. That’s when Mr. Sausage Man got a good look at Mrs. Mayor’s condition. Both of her eyes were big and wide open with red cracks in them, as if she hadn’t slept for weeks. Her eyes were also pointed in different directions. This, when combined with the fact that they were wide open, proved itself to be a mark of true insanity. The realization had barely crossed Mr. Sausage Man’s mind when he looked in horror at the necklace Mrs. Mayor was wearing. It was made up of intestines and torn muscles that were still wet. And worst of all, there was a bloody eyeball in the center, hanging under Mrs. Mayor’s neck. It was the same color as Mr. Mayor’s eyes.

    Mr. Sausage Man didn’t want to believe it, but he knew there was only one explanation. “You… YOU KILLED HIM?!” Mrs. Mayor laughed yet again. “He had a hairy worm on his upper lip. I told him to shave, but he never did…” Her left eye twitched as she spoke. “…So today, I decided to shave it for him. He put up quite a fight, though. He really liked that worm…”  Her mouth continuously quivered as the corners of her lips frantically moved up and down, as if she couldn’t decide whether she was feeling happy or sad. “…But then, I had the best idea ever. I shaved every other part of his body to show him that it wasn’t so bad in comparison. I don’t think it was helping him very much though, because he wouldn’t stop screaming. He even tried to call for help on his cell phone. But I didn’t want him to make such a big deal about it, so I smashed his phone. After that I think he gave up, since he started to moan. So I shaved off the worm. I also shaved his eyes, since his eyelashes were getting long…” Once again, Mrs. Mayor let out another laugh, although a bit of pain could be detected in it. “…But his eyes fell out. I tried to glue them back in. One of them barely stayed. I decided to keep the other one as a souvenir…” She lifted up the eyeball on her necklace and kissed it. “…But then he stopped moving. But that’s good. Now… the hairy worm is gone… forever!” She seemed unable to control her excitement. “I will miss him though, so I took a few things to remember him by.” Mrs. Mayor stroked the intestine she was wearing on her neck. “But since I have the house all to myself, now I can finally paint it red like I always wanted!” She turned away from them and started smearing the blood she was covered in (Which Mr. Sausage Man now knew belonged to Mr. Mayor) onto the walls, humming a strange 8-note melody over and over. It was quite obvious that every single small fragment of sanity remaining within Mrs. Mayor had been completely obliterated.

Mr. Ribs remembered what he had said earlier: ‘Let’s kill the killer!’ He looked down and closed his eyes. “Do we really need to do this to her?” He sighed. Mrs. Mayor’s head slowly turned around a full 180 degrees and faced them. The rest of her body was still facing the wall. “Do… what? Are you going to punish me? I’ve been a good girl all day… look.” The corners of Mrs. Mayor’s lips went upward once again to form an open smile, until they reached above where her nose would be- if she had one. They went so high that some of the skin on her face tore off. Her teeth were unrealistically long and pointy. They were a deep yellow with red splatters all over them. Her breath reeked of blood. Mr. Sausage Man turned toward Mr. Ribs, mostly to avoid looking at the horrifying sight. “I’m afraid we have no other choice. If she goes outside, she could kill everyone. I mean, a large amount of our fellow citizens are quite defenseless against evil. And besides… That thing over there isn’t Mrs. Mayor anymore. We’ve got a bloodthirsty killer on our hands, who murders simply to murder.” He rose up the Sausage Sword. “Mr. Ribs. Whatever you do, don’t hold back.”

TL;DR:
Somebody has died, as is the case for almost all creepypastas. 

Like the cruel twist I added? Well, anyway please give feedback, tell me what you liked, what scared you, and what should be improved.
Next time, you guys will get to see some battle scenes!
If you want to learn more about Mr. Sausage Man, Mr. Ribs, The Burgerlar, Mr. Mayor and Mrs. Mayor, go here.

Challenge: Draw a scary picture of the part where Mrs. Mayor smiled in the 8th paragraph. See if you can keep me awake tonight! 
(Note: Remember, Mrs. Mayor has no nose)

Last edited by Sausagefanclub (2012-04-09 17:47:39)

There's a deformed sausage in my house!

FunDude wrote:

There's a deformed sausage in my house!

....Why did I laugh at that? :I

samid11 wrote:

GLaDOS2 wrote:

FunDude wrote:

There's a deformed sausage in my house!

....Why did I laugh at that? :I

More importantly, why did FunDude get off-topic? ON MY CREEPYPASTA FORUM THREAD?!?!

psst i have a pasta

once upon a time a bacteria got an ulcer in his vacuole and told the brain cells to pin him above a window before he died
so they did
and he came back alive the next day and said
"thank you."
and faded to a ghost.
that is why some people hear voices in their head.
the end