Scratch

NeilWest wrote:

Creepyspam: opieg spamming this thread. SO STOP IT.

that is specieist. the wild opiegs need friends too :'(

777w wrote:

777w wrote:

http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/817/slednog.jpg

nobody noticed the new and improved first post :'I
if its not already obvious im done and through with this thread bye

2spooky

BOBBYBOB3 wrote:

ZOMBIE MAN ATE A BUNCH OF RAINBOW PONIES.

(I'm going loopy. MORE....SCARINESS...LESS...CHAT...)

yes,i agree sorry for the spam. here's ANOTHER ZELDA CREEPYPASTA

a victim's journal wrote:

so,i was playing ocarina of time an then a skeleton popped out. luckily it was in-game and programmed.it was in the shadow temple and right after the red bubble acts really stupid in front of a meat cleaver.so,anyway, i ran onto an invisible platform with my hover boots. i walked back with the boots and the stalfos(skeleton)ran off the cliff(that's a real glitch.)but,as it fell, it said something besides the usual inaudible grunts and groans."pie". so, as i progressed through the temple, they said things like,"my""thigh""by" i finally got to the boss,bongo bongo.but,i didn't know he wrote on the drum,"die" it says...SO.MADDENINGLY.SCARY.MUST.FIND.WINDOW.

we got this from the black forest in germany...WAIT.THATS.SLENDERMA...I aM waTchiNG YOu.


                                           like it?

weegeeissparta wrote:

Overused themes. Overall bad plot.
2.1/10

yay,more than 2.09!

Here;s my pasta! (Warning: The following pasta does not show my feelings towards pasta and/or global war/disease etc. It is a work of fiction.)

The Fear Plan:

It pains me when I read creepypasta. Not because they are scary or because I have to read a long story, but because of the fact that usually one person dies. This is in fiction, in fiction supposedly anything can happen, but usually there are only a few deaths from some haunted file or monster. As human beings we interpret Death as our enemy that we eventually meet, that is all said and true.

Now let's take a look at the facts: People DIE every second. Terrorism, war, disease.. Heck, even bullying causes some to commit both suicide and homicide. People are dying everywhere as you read this. You may or may not already know this.

So why does creepypasta cause a phobic reaction more than the constant real death of people due to circumstances beyond anyone's control? After all, both creepypasta and real life-threatening battles involve Death. I'll tell you why:

The Fear Plan.

The Fear Plan is why reading creepypasta keeps us up at night more than watching shootings on the news. It's what keeps us from realizing that we are killing each other off and also being murdered by diseases. The Fear Plan is there to keep us from the truth and keep our minds thinking that some fake haunting of one person is scarier than the deaths happening as you read this sentence. The Plan is to keep the public eye blocked from reality by a mysterious picture that haunts people's dreams or a tall man who kidnaps children but doesn't even exist.

The Fear Plan is what is keeping you reading this.

No, I won't tell you "Go to Sleep," or "Spread the word". But I will ask you this. If this is a creepypasta, has The Fear Plan backfired or is this helping it? Do you realize the truth or do you dismiss this as a scary story?

No. When Death visits, then the Fear Plan has collapsed and the gravity of death manifests itself from a psycho killer whose face is burnt off to the reality. If you wish to realize this, I will be here soon for you. That is when you will decide.

-Death

Things were perfect. Too perfect.

Everything was in it's right place.

Yesterday I woke up.

Looking at discord.

Now today when I woke up.

Looking at perfection.

Who helped me? Who had cleansed me?

Was it Life or was it Death?

I see red eyes across the room.

Why do they watch?

Called my sister - no reply.

Do they just want me to die?

Dying in perfection and questions.

This is not the way to go.

A story I wrote loosely based on SAW. There is a bit of blood, so read at your own risk. It is unfinished, give me some good feedback if you want more!


Jack awoke with a splitting headache, remembering nothing at all of the previous night. Suddenly, lights flashed on, illuminating the room he was in and waking him fully up. He looked down. He was in some sort of chair. His arms and legs were restrained. He tasted metal. He saw a mirror in front of him, and what he saw reflected in it made him want to vomit. Two pairs of massive scissors, almost the size of pruning shears, were opened around each cheek. He also noticed two buttons at the end of each armrest on the chair. "HELP!!" he screamed. "PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP ME!!!" 
A gravelly voice came over an intercom system somewhere in the room. "I see you're awake. I also take it that by now you have noticed the blades in your mouth. 
"You are going to need to shut those. You will do so by pressing the buttons located in each armrest of your chair." Jack screamed for help again, even louder, still to no avail. "Only once you have pressed both buttons will you be freed from your restraints. But you have to act quickly. There is a timer on the wall in front of you that will tell you how much time you have left. You have two minutes. Should you fail to complete your task, a blade will be thrust violently through your back and kill you. Good luck."
The intercom clicked off.
"SOMEONE!! ANYONE!! PLEASE, HELP ME!! HELP!!!!!!" Jack's screams echoed off the walls of the room, empty apart from his chair.
1:30
Jack's screams turned into sobs. Tears streamed down his face. "Please, help me..." His screams turned into pathetic whimpers.
1:00
He looked at the timer. He knew he had only one thing to do, and had wasted enough time already. Placing his finger on one of his buttons, he tried to will himself to press down on it. Finally, he managed to bring himself to hut his button.
I sickening 'squish' echoed through the room. He screamed and writhed in pain.
0:30
He had to act fast. He placed his other hand on the other button. The tears running down his cheeks intermingled with the blood gushing out of his wound.
0:20
It's now or never, he thought.
0:15
Do it for Carley.
0:10
Do it for the kids!
0:05
He mashed on the button. Another squish. The restraints on his arms and legs fell away, and he fell onto the floor. A blade smashed through the back of his chair.
Oh, god, he though as he sobbed, a small puddle of blood forming around his head. Oh, god, I did it, oh, Jesus, the pain, the PAIN!! His body convulsed as a new wave of uncontrollable sobbing came on. But I did it, and I'm alive. I'll live to go back home, see Carley and the kids again, get-
"Very well done, Jack." The voice came back on the intercom. "But I wouldn't waste time, lying there on the floor like that. There are more people here. Some of them that require your assistance to survive. People like this lovely lady."
A tv screen flickered to life on a table right in front of Jack. He pulled himself into a sitting position. He vomited when he saw who it was on the tv screen, inside of a large glass box.
"Oh god!" he screamed. "CARLEY!!!!"

bump

What's wrong with him trying to bring life back to it?

uhh... this topic aint dead. inactive, sure, but not dead

Oh god samid, you're alive!

NeilWest wrote:

Oh god samid, you're alive!

I'm alive!
And I will be making a new pasta.

[b]I'm writing a creepypasta novel and here is the first part:

    Grace was an average girl. She wore a dark brown jacket most of the time, and she regularly went on Facebook. She worked as an office intern, so she had plenty of time to slack off and chat. She lived in Sweden so a day of sunshine was possible and impossible. It was the 10th of December when it happened. That was according to the police. It was her lunch break and she went to the coffee shop opposite the company HQ. Coming outside was like a breath of fresh air compared to the sweaty office in the large building. She met the coffee shop clerk, called Sympathy. She smiled whenever Grace came and they both enjoyed a regular cappuccino with a shot of caramel. It was an acquired taste.
   
    ‘So anything new?’ Sympathy asked, taking a sip of her brew before looking outside. She noticed that i
‘ started to snow.
    ‘Well, I might get a promotion - I’m hoping to suck up to the new manager. He’s called Alan and he’s quite cute.’
    ‘A cute boss? Now that’s something I’d like to see.’
    ‘Yeah, but our CEO doesn’t allow non-client visitors in the offices.’
    ‘I could book an appointment with you,’ Grace stopped checking her feed and looked at the ceiling, thinking if an appointment was possible. The snow got worse.
    ‘Hey - I don’t see why not! I mean - Alan will never know - right?’
    ‘Hopefully. Well - my break is nearly over - I’d better finish this,’ and Sympathy took a huge gulp of sweet coffee and returned to the counter - eying the snowstorm carefully.

    Grace began to run across the street through the blizzard. It was freezing - probably below zero degrees. She wished that she wore a thicker pair of trousers. She rushed into the lobby and greeted the receptionist, before quickly running into an elevator. Grace then pressed the ‘5’ button and heard the lift vibrate around her. Thank god it worked today. Grace looked at the calendar in the hallway - it was just 3 days before the weekend. Hopefully, she could maybe visit her parents or something - something other than procrastinate on the social network and dream about Alan.

    ‘Hello Grace,’ Alan said sternly,
    ‘Oh, hello Alan - what are you doing?’ Grace said, a little confused,
    ‘You’re 5 minutes late from your coffee break,’
    ‘Wait - what?’
    ‘Yes. The company has been tighter on employee breaks so they knocked a few minutes off - I wouldn’t be surprised if someone didn’t get the message.’
    ‘Message?’ It was then when she remembered the announcement; “In order to raise employee productivity, we’ll be shortening breaks to allow you to work more. Please remember...”
    ‘Maybe you were off - but I’ll let you off for now - just don’t do it again ok?’
    ‘Ok,’ Grace calmly said. The CEO was definitely not someone to mess with for now.

    The CEO was busy getting the project ready - and was in a lot of stress. With everyone. That was another factor to why breaks were shortened. It was one of the few times where the CEO did something other than be a dictator. Grace quickly returned to her desk - hoping no-one would notice her. *! She left Facebook open - anyone could have seen that. She quickly turned around. No-one had bothered to look in her cubicle, out of curiosity. Than Alan worked past and whispered,
    ‘My Facebook is “Alan S. Turnwell” - in case you needed to know,’ Grace felt shocked and happy at the same time. She was shocked that Alan had seen her Facebook open, but happy that Alan liked her enough to add her as a friend. Things were going okay for her. By the end of the day, the blizzard went from normal to code red. Everything was barely visible. It was if Stockholm was surrounded in white. She went to her car and unlocked - then rushed into the vehicle quickly. She drove onto the main road and found herself in a traffic jam. Hooray.

    The radio was nothing more than a bad omen of what was happening. The weather said the snow was going to get worse overnight, the traffic presenter said the queue was quite long, and the horoscope guy said that Tauruses were going to have a bad time with organization. But seriously - were the stars going to be right? So, after non-stop Van Halen for around 5 metres - Grace wondered if there was a way around this. Then she remembered the countryside road - the one that lead from Stockholm to her town. Sympathy used it and she always got home ok - so maybe Grace herself should try it?

    She looked both ways and swerved into the next exit - which was a narrow road surrounded by trendy clothes stores. The snow got worse - and it was harder to see with her fog-lights on. The road then exited to another clearer road, which soon enough led to the route she wanted. It was quicker than driving in the eternal car conga. The road was a little narrow and it was surrounded with spruce trees and large fields - a nice change from suburban skyscrapers. The snow was worse on the road so she couldn’t go full throttle or she’d crash. She always had an urge to but common sense said no.

    It was a few minutes later and the road didn’t seem to end - though she did see a few buildings now. Many were cottages and farmhouses, whilst some were quaint little tea shops and such. The time was 5 pm and she was going to be really late now, considering the fact that it would be hard to see her town. A sign said ‘Burkenholm Historical Castle’ so she knew that her destination was only a few miles closer. Then a bright light blinded her before a large thud. Her head smashed threw the glass and she saw one last person.

Alan.



    Alan screamed as Grace looked up towards him - her face was covered with blood and her car was in a total wreck. He ran up to her and held her dying body in his arms. Grace was surely dead. The foglights of his car were slowly dying - Alan would have to walk to the police station alone in the dark. He looked up - grabbed his phone - but realised it was dead. He was frequently splashed by passing cars - and when he did get to the station - it was midnight.

    ‘Hello?’ he said, as he entered the building,
    ‘One second,’ the secretary said to the person on the phone - before looking up to Alan, “Oh god! What happened?’
    ‘Sara, there’s been an incident. My phone was dead so I had to walk here to report the crash,’
    ‘A crash? Where’s the other person?’
    ‘She’s dead.’ There was a moment of silence between them - and the Sara knew that it wasn’t the right time to talk about it.
    ‘What should we do?’
    ‘Inform her family, clear the scene - all I know is that it’s ALL MY FAULT.’
    ‘It’s not. These things happen often when that road is foggy...’
    ‘BUT NO-ONE DIES,” Alan was shouting now, “AND I’M GUILTY. GUILTY, GUILTY GUILTY!’ Sara just confusingly looked at him sobbing on the desk,
    ‘If it makes you feel better, you can always talk to the police chief - he always knows what to do.’
    ‘Okay,’ Alan said, stumbling towards the police chief’s office,
    ‘Of course, he’s not here at the moment - but you can get yourself cleaned up here, can I have your full name please?’
    ‘Oh, Alan East,’
    ‘Right, look in the bathroom for some antiseptic whilst I go and call your family,’

    When Alan came out, Sara had just finished a phone call,
    ‘Right, I’ve called your family and the ambulance service - but your dad just told me to hang up, he must not be in a good mood,’
    ‘He never is,’
    ‘Well - anyway, the ambulance should be here any moment now - just lie down and have a rest,’ So I had a rest and when I woke up, it was morning.

    I was in my car - but with my seatbelt on and I had still crashed. However - Grace was gone. Her blood was still on the seat and there was a large space in the window where her head went - but nothing else. I went for my phone, still dead. I walked out and went back to the police station. This journey was quicker for some reason but Sara was still there.
    ‘Oh my god! What happened?’ she shouted,
    ‘Huh? But I thought I’d met you last night,’ I replied,
    ‘I certainly don’t remember - if we did,’ this was weird. Had I crashed whilst sleeping and woke up to find Grace left? That was way too realistic for a dream. Then I noticed a synige stuck in Sara - someone had drugged her to forget about everything. But that still doesn’t explain how I got from the police station and back to the car. Or how Grace had dissapeared.