fallengames wrote:
Thank you. It wasn't scary to me, but I thought it might be to some others. ;D
Lol same here.
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TVflea wrote:
once upon a time, something scary happened
the end
That was funny the first seventeen times.
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Wickimen wrote:
June 2, 2010
Dear Journal,
Mom bought me this nerdy journal because I complained my pen-pal, Anna, never wrote me. “Now you’ll have something to write in every day!” she said, looking all sunshine-y. Ugh! I don’t want to hurt her feelings though, so I’m going to write. I just won’t show anyone.
I don’t have a lot to write about. My name is Cassandra, but everybody calls me Cass. I’m twelve. I have a weird little sister named Melanie, who’s six. Mom says she’s not weird, she’s just a little kid, but I make her go upstairs when I have friends over anyway. She acted like a cat for three months last year. Just this morning she made up yet another imaginary friend.
“I have a new friend named Finn!” she said. (Liar.) “He’s twelve like you, Cass, but he looks different. He has black hair, and his eyes are gray. They’re nicer than yours.”
Like I need reminding! My whole family has blue eyes, but mine are ugly and brown. Everyone says they’re nice, but I don’t think so. So I told Mel to go away and stop lying. She said she wasn’t lying, which was a lie right there.
I’m going to soccer practice now and I will never, ever write in here again.
June 5, 2010
Dear Journal,
Okay. So I know I said I’d never write again. But today is so hot, and boring! And Mel was actually having a conversation with “Finn”. Bizarre! She was sitting out front on our porch, talking to him. I don’t know how it went exactly, but it was really weird anyway. I told Mel that if she was going to talk to Finn, she’d better do it inside so the neighbors don’t, like, report her to an asylum or something. But she just glared at me all cold and said, “Finn doesn’t want to come inside.” RIGHT!
June 6, 2010
Dear Journal,
If Mel doesn’t knock it off soon, I’M going to be the one to report her to the asylum. She’s starting to creep me out! Last night she said seriously, “Cass, Finn wants me to come to where he lives. Should I go?”
I wanted to scream “FINN!! ISN’T!! REAL!!!!!” but I just said mock-seriously, “No, Mel, you can’t go to stranger’s houses.”
Her eyes got all big and she said, “Finn used to live at our house.”
June 7, 2010
Dear Journal,
I kind of lost it and I shouted at Melanie, “Mel, shut up about Finn already! He doesn’t exist!!” It sounds mean, but she was scaring me. She’d been talking with nobody for about an hour, and she was having fun! I’ve seen insane people do stuff like that. I knew Mel was beyond weird!
I feel sorry now, though. I made her cry. She said, “Well, if you don’t like me here, maybe I should just go with Finn!”
Then I yelled, “Great, whatever, just LEAVE! You’re creeping me out!!” She was, too. And then she left.
June 10, 2010
I couldn’t write yesterday or the day before… I haven’t even spoken to anyone barely at all.
Melanie’s gone. She disappeared.
June 10, 2011
I saw something today that made me dig up my old journal and read the entire story over. And now I’m feeling sort of dizzy, and sick. Because Mel never came back home. The police never found her. I still miss her and I think maybe it’s my fault, because I told her to leave…
And today I think I had a hallucination. I must have. Because today a boy tried to stop me on the sidewalk and talk to me, but I wouldn’t stop running. He just disappeared when I turned to glance at him to see if he was real. The boy was about twelve. He had black hair, and gray eyes.
This is amazing! I love how it all just fits together, and Finn actually IS semi-real!
If this were a book, I'd definitely buy it
I also really like the format: how it's written as a journal, it really works!
You're certainly a talented writer with a cool imagination
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The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
cut for space.
This is amazing! I love how it all just fits together, and Finn actually IS semi-real!
If this were a book, I'd definitely buy it
I also really like the format: how it's written as a journal, it really works!
You're certainly a talented writer with a cool imagination
Thanks! So are you lol
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@Wickimen: Thankies
I've always hated the dark, ever since I was a little kid.
I'd cautiously flick off the light and leap into bed lightning-fast at night, as if nocturnal beasts would nip at my ankles and drag me into the depths of the underworld if I spent more than a few seconds in contact with the carpet. It was quite traumatic, and my parents could never understand why I dreaded bedtime.
I'm past that stage now, but I am yet to recover from my experiences on the 14th of Spetember, 1999.
Curled up in a tight ball, my duvet tucked underneath my chin; I was drifting off to sleep. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 10:30pm. I'd been in bed for a few hours now, fidgeting restlessly. Once again, I shut my eyes and prayed that I would doze off soon.
CLUNK.
Roused from my sleep, I stumbled out of bed nervously; in search of the source of the racket. As I paced around my small dark bedroom, I tripped over a small hard object. I reached down for it and held the smooth cylinder in front of my face. I could just about make out the outline of a jar-like container.
I don't have any jars anywhere in my room, and this odd item was clearly not mine. I looked up at the ceiling, yet there was no hole or crack it could have dropped through. There were no shelves it could have fallen from. My parents were both asleep and are obviously not responsible.
A sense of fear and unrest suddenly overcame me and I collapsed, unconscious.
When I finally came back to my senses about 15 minutes later, I was back in bed. An unfamiliar figure was leaning over me, their face gentle and understanding.
It was a woman, her face worn-looking and ravaged by age, yet oddly pretty. She seemed to be in her 60s, her fading silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
Incapable of speech, I stared back. I hoped I would suddenly recognise the lady as a distant relative, perhaps visiting for the weekend?
But why would anyone be awake at ten minutes to eleven at night? And in my bedroom?
I was desperately searching for an excuse for this stranger to somehow be related to me, and real- I hoped this woman's arrival was completely unremarkable. It was certainly a shock.
I had been wondering who this woman was for what seemed like an eternity, so I refocused my eyes and examined my surroundings.
I looked for evidence of the mystery woman's presence.
Nothing.
I listened for footsteps.
Silent emptiness.
I waited for an explanation to suddenly occur to me.
There WAS no explanation.
The woman's arrival appears to have been purely coincidental - or was it? To this day I don't know. I haven't seen the woman since, and don't really wish to.
Offline
The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
@Wickimen: Thankies
I've always hated the dark, ever since I was a little kid.
I'd cautiously flick off the light and leap into bed lightning-fast at night, as if nocturnal beasts would nip at my ankles and drag me into the depths of the underworld if I spent more than a few seconds in contact with the carpet. It was quite traumatic, and my parents could never understand why I dreaded bedtime.
I'm past that stage now, but I am yet to recover from my experiences on the 14th of Spetember, 1999.
Curled up in a tight ball, my duvet tucked underneath my chin; I was drifting off to sleep. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 10:30pm. I'd been in bed for a few hours now, fidgeting restlessly. Once again, I shut my eyes and prayed that I would doze off soon.
CLUNK.
Roused from my sleep, I stumbled out of bed nervously; in search of the source of the racket. As I paced around my small dark bedroom, I tripped over a small hard object. I reached down for it and held the smooth cylinder in front of my face. I could just about make out the outline of a jar-like container.
I don't have any jars anywhere in my room, and this odd item was clearly not mine. I looked up at the ceiling, yet there was no hole or crack it could have dropped through. There were no shelves it could have fallen from. My parents were both asleep and are obviously not responsible.
A sense of fear and unrest suddenly overcame me and I collapsed, unconscious.
When I finally came back to my senses about 15 minutes later, I was back in bed. An unfamiliar figure was leaning over me, their face gentle and understanding.
It was a woman, her face worn-looking and ravaged by age, yet oddly pretty. She seemed to be in her 60s, her fading silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
Incapable of speech, I stared back. I hoped I would suddenly recognise the lady as a distant relative, perhaps visiting for the weekend?
But why would anyone be awake at ten minutes to eleven at night? And in my bedroom?
I was desperately searching for an excuse for this stranger to somehow be related to me, and real- I hoped this woman's arrival was completely unremarkable. It was certainly a shock.
I had been wondering who this woman was for what seemed like an eternity, so I refocused my eyes and examined my surroundings.
I looked for evidence of the mystery woman's presence.
Nothing.
I listened for footsteps.
Silent emptiness.
I waited for an explanation to suddenly occur to me.
There WAS no explanation.
The woman's arrival appears to have been purely coincidental - or was it? To this day I don't know. I haven't seen the woman since, and don't really wish to.
http://i.ytimg.com/vi/-NfrgoDoHuw/0.jpg
Holy crud that's a creepy face O.o
Great story If you continued on, maybe like the narator finds the woman somehow, I probably would have bought it if it were a book
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samurai768 wrote:
The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
@Wickimen: Thankies
I've always hated the dark, ever since I was a little kid.
I'd cautiously flick off the light and leap into bed lightning-fast at night, as if nocturnal beasts would nip at my ankles and drag me into the depths of the underworld if I spent more than a few seconds in contact with the carpet. It was quite traumatic, and my parents could never understand why I dreaded bedtime.
I'm past that stage now, but I am yet to recover from my experiences on the 14th of Spetember, 1999.
Curled up in a tight ball, my duvet tucked underneath my chin; I was drifting off to sleep. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 10:30pm. I'd been in bed for a few hours now, fidgeting restlessly. Once again, I shut my eyes and prayed that I would doze off soon.
CLUNK.
Roused from my sleep, I stumbled out of bed nervously; in search of the source of the racket. As I paced around my small dark bedroom, I tripped over a small hard object. I reached down for it and held the smooth cylinder in front of my face. I could just about make out the outline of a jar-like container.
I don't have any jars anywhere in my room, and this odd item was clearly not mine. I looked up at the ceiling, yet there was no hole or crack it could have dropped through. There were no shelves it could have fallen from. My parents were both asleep and are obviously not responsible.
A sense of fear and unrest suddenly overcame me and I collapsed, unconscious.
When I finally came back to my senses about 15 minutes later, I was back in bed. An unfamiliar figure was leaning over me, their face gentle and understanding.
It was a woman, her face worn-looking and ravaged by age, yet oddly pretty. She seemed to be in her 60s, her fading silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
Incapable of speech, I stared back. I hoped I would suddenly recognise the lady as a distant relative, perhaps visiting for the weekend?
But why would anyone be awake at ten minutes to eleven at night? And in my bedroom?
I was desperately searching for an excuse for this stranger to somehow be related to me, and real- I hoped this woman's arrival was completely unremarkable. It was certainly a shock.
I had been wondering who this woman was for what seemed like an eternity, so I refocused my eyes and examined my surroundings.
I looked for evidence of the mystery woman's presence.
Nothing.
I listened for footsteps.
Silent emptiness.
I waited for an explanation to suddenly occur to me.
There WAS no explanation.
The woman's arrival appears to have been purely coincidental - or was it? To this day I don't know. I haven't seen the woman since, and don't really wish to.
http://i.ytimg.com/vi/-NfrgoDoHuw/0.jpgHoly crud that's a creepy face O.o
Great story If you continued on, maybe like the narator finds the woman somehow, I probably would have bought it if it were a book
It watches you 0__0
And I got bored with it, that's why I didn't add the next part about the newspaper report the narrator finds in the attic from the 1920s...
If you wanna continue it, you can ^^
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The Key
It was a hot summer day, and everyone was outside. I was on my porch, reading a book when a huge dark object hovered over the neigborhood. I thought it was a cloud. Then, a beam of light came down from it, right infront of me. I strange being appeared in it.
he looked at me and said, " Where is the key".
I responded," what key."
"the thing on top of your living area."
"the electric rod?" It was in the shape of a key, and I always wonderd what it was.
"Yes."
"what does it do?"
"i gives the holder the ability to destroy anything they want, and we want to destroy your giant rock."
"You aint gonna get it, fool." I grabed the nearby ladder and climbed on top of the roof. with all my strength i pulled the key off my roof and pointed at the alien spaceship, and it exploded. i willed the key to destroy itself, and it did. All was well.
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The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
@Wickimen: Thankies
I've always hated the dark, ever since I was a little kid.
I'd cautiously flick off the light and leap into bed lightning-fast at night, as if nocturnal beasts would nip at my ankles and drag me into the depths of the underworld if I spent more than a few seconds in contact with the carpet. It was quite traumatic, and my parents could never understand why I dreaded bedtime.
I'm past that stage now, but I am yet to recover from my experiences on the 14th of Spetember, 1999.
Curled up in a tight ball, my duvet tucked underneath my chin; I was drifting off to sleep. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 10:30pm. I'd been in bed for a few hours now, fidgeting restlessly. Once again, I shut my eyes and prayed that I would doze off soon.
CLUNK.
Roused from my sleep, I stumbled out of bed nervously; in search of the source of the racket. As I paced around my small dark bedroom, I tripped over a small hard object. I reached down for it and held the smooth cylinder in front of my face. I could just about make out the outline of a jar-like container.
I don't have any jars anywhere in my room, and this odd item was clearly not mine. I looked up at the ceiling, yet there was no hole or crack it could have dropped through. There were no shelves it could have fallen from. My parents were both asleep and are obviously not responsible.
A sense of fear and unrest suddenly overcame me and I collapsed, unconscious.
When I finally came back to my senses about 15 minutes later, I was back in bed. An unfamiliar figure was leaning over me, their face gentle and understanding.
It was a woman, her face worn-looking and ravaged by age, yet oddly pretty. She seemed to be in her 60s, her fading silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
Incapable of speech, I stared back. I hoped I would suddenly recognise the lady as a distant relative, perhaps visiting for the weekend?
But why would anyone be awake at ten minutes to eleven at night? And in my bedroom?
I was desperately searching for an excuse for this stranger to somehow be related to me, and real- I hoped this woman's arrival was completely unremarkable. It was certainly a shock.
I had been wondering who this woman was for what seemed like an eternity, so I refocused my eyes and examined my surroundings.
I looked for evidence of the mystery woman's presence.
Nothing.
I listened for footsteps.
Silent emptiness.
I waited for an explanation to suddenly occur to me.
There WAS no explanation.
The woman's arrival appears to have been purely coincidental - or was it? To this day I don't know. I haven't seen the woman since, and don't really wish to.
http://i.ytimg.com/vi/-NfrgoDoHuw/0.jpg
>:3 I made a mask of that face. I just scared a fly to death with it.
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soupoftomato wrote:
Guys, just snip the uber-long stories out of those posts. Think about those who don't like Pocket Monsters.
Anyway (I take no credit ):
Once, there was a boy who loved to read. He read everything he could get his hands on, and loved going to his favorite book store. One day, the boy realized he had read everything the store had to offer. He confronted the owner, and asked him if he had anything the boy had never checked out. The owner said why, yes, I do, and pulled out a book called “Death”. He gladly sold it to the boy at a discounted price of $50. However, he warned the boy, never to read the front page.
Well, the boy returned to his house and read the book, and he was content. However, he always wondered, what could be on that front page, it was always in the back of his mind. One day, the temptation was too much for the boy, and he flipped to the very front of the book, and dropped the book in HORROR. There, in bold print, was MSRP $6.99.
1. its Pokemon now, not Pocket Monsters,and some people enjoy it.
2. LOL i dint see that coming
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Warning
I’m doing this for you. And for Mike, too, I guess, though I don’t think there’s much I can do to help him at this point.
I suppose I should provide some background information first. I’m a sophomore in a fairly good university in Boston – no, not MIT or Harvard, but still one that’s a bit of a chore to get into. My freshman year, I had the option to live in honors housing and decided to roll with it; after all, at least the people would be interesting. Whatever arcane algorithm they use to process roommate requests took in my preferences and spat out the name of my future roommate: Mike, just another random honors kid from St. Louis. The two of us got along fine for most of freshman year – my enjoyment of Miley Cyrus notwithstanding-and so we decided to room together sophomore year as well.
Now, Mike had always been a pretty obsessive guy. He tended to bounce around in his interests; one week, he would devour entire series of anime, only to later start watching random online episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and then begin working his way through the archives of the hottest new webcomic. And, of course, like any real obsessive, he would keep me posted on his latest craze. I humored him; what else are roommates for?
One day earlier this week, he started telling me random scary stories. You know, those random things you find on message boards-I think his main source ended up being some site called “creepypasta” (I never understood why pasta could be creepy, but whatever). I’d hear about a med student eating an arm, or someone being autopsied alive, or some random youtube video that will drive you insane. We usually had a good laugh about them.
The third day of this obsession, however, things got weird. He threw a few more stories my way before hitting the sack, but something seemed a little off. His voice had a sharp edge to it. As the hour got later, his banter got more and more inane, as though he were talking just to stave off having to go to sleep. Eventually, I pointedly got into my bed and rolled over, effectively ending any further chance at conversation. I wish I hadn’t.
I sleep like a log, and that night was no exception. I don’t think I even came close to waking. Usually I can’t remember any of my dreams, but the nightmare I had that night has been clear in my mind for days now. I dreamt I was trapped in a fog so dense I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. The damp air sent chills down my spine. I could hear muffled screams in the distance. There didn’t seem to be any words, just guttural shrieks of pain. Instantly (don’t ask me how), I recognized the screams as Mike’s. I tried my best to run to him, but my feet just slid through the fog; I couldn’t get any real traction on the ground, if there indeed was any ground. The screams got further away and more indistinct, though I could still tell they were Mike’s. Eventually, they faded to nothing and I woke up.
And every last trace of Mike was gone from the room.
Everything. His laptop, his sheets, the “Official Zombie Survival” guide poster on the wall, the heap of trash he let accumulate on his half of the windowsill-everything. A thick layer of dust coated his entire side of the room. Absolutely nothing on my side of the room had been touched-nor had any of his stuff in the bathroom, the kitchen, or the living room of our suite. Only in the bedroom had anything been taken.
I couldn’t believe it. I prayed it was a dream. I pinched my elbow until the skin was red, until my fingernails drew blood. When I didn’t wake up, I dialed campus security, who quickly brought in the Boston Police Department. I was immediately kicked out of the room so they could go over everything with a fine-toothed comb.
I think I must have been in shock. I felt completely numb, like nothing around me really mattered. I’d left my laptop out in our suite’s common room, so I used that to distract myself-or to try to, at any rate. When I popped open the laptop, however, a word document stared at me. Its text was the following:
‘I know this is stupid. I can’t help but think how much I’ll regret this in the morning, but for some reason I’m genuinely scared and I feel like this is the only way I can tell someone why. So here goes: earlier, I was scouring the ‘net for short horror stories-you know, rituals, tales of scary places, and the like. I came across this…warning, I guess it was. I won’t say what, and I won’t say where, for fear of you finding it yourself. Suffice it to say it sent chills down my spine, something not much has managed to do. Still, as has become my habit, I just clicked on the next hyperlink, going ever farther down the rabbit hole.
The warning stayed with me, though. In the back of my head, just nibbling away, waiting until I would focus on something else to rear its ugly head. This was irrational, I knew; my mind was just playing tricks on me. Some ancestral fear had been played upon, some age-old nightmare that was just that-a nightmare, no more and no less. But that didn’t make the fear go away. Only when I looked at the clock to see how long I had until you got back that it dawned on me I had passed the time alloted me by the warning to stop what was coming (any vagueness is out of concern for you, I promise).
And then the real anxiety kicked in. My palms started to sweat, and my eyes refused to stay closed for more than a second at a time. All my hairs stood on end, and I could feel my heart rate start to increase. Instantly, I knew that the warning had been real. And I had failed to heed it. My time was limited.
It was about then that you got back from the TV station. I was so glad to see someone else, I can’t imagine how I sounded. Finally, someone to fight off the dark with, a companion against the now terrifying night. But clearly you weren’t interested; your yawns were a dead giveaway. You headed to bed, and I (to stave off sleep a little longer) decided to write you this. Do me a favor – if I’m wrong, forget this ever happened. If I’m right…warn them.’
So that’s what I’m doing. I’m warning you. Just be careful. Next time you go on an archive binge at creepypasta, or start checking the horror thread of your favorite discussion board, or even just try googling “creepy stories,” if you feel a chill run down your spine at some warning you’ve never read before you might want to heed it. If you decide not to, however – if you just click on your merry way-please tell Mike I’m sorry I couldn’t get to him in the fog.
Credit to creepypasta.
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The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
@Wickimen: Thankies
I've always hated the dark, ever since I was a little kid.
I'd cautiously flick off the light and leap into bed lightning-fast at night, as if nocturnal beasts would nip at my ankles and drag me into the depths of the underworld if I spent more than a few seconds in contact with the carpet. It was quite traumatic, and my parents could never understand why I dreaded bedtime.
I'm past that stage now, but I am yet to recover from my experiences on the 14th of Spetember, 1999.
Curled up in a tight ball, my duvet tucked underneath my chin; I was drifting off to sleep. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 10:30pm. I'd been in bed for a few hours now, fidgeting restlessly. Once again, I shut my eyes and prayed that I would doze off soon.
CLUNK.
Roused from my sleep, I stumbled out of bed nervously; in search of the source of the racket. As I paced around my small dark bedroom, I tripped over a small hard object. I reached down for it and held the smooth cylinder in front of my face. I could just about make out the outline of a jar-like container.
I don't have any jars anywhere in my room, and this odd item was clearly not mine. I looked up at the ceiling, yet there was no hole or crack it could have dropped through. There were no shelves it could have fallen from. My parents were both asleep and are obviously not responsible.
A sense of fear and unrest suddenly overcame me and I collapsed, unconscious.
When I finally came back to my senses about 15 minutes later, I was back in bed. An unfamiliar figure was leaning over me, their face gentle and understanding.
It was a woman, her face worn-looking and ravaged by age, yet oddly pretty. She seemed to be in her 60s, her fading silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
Incapable of speech, I stared back. I hoped I would suddenly recognise the lady as a distant relative, perhaps visiting for the weekend?
But why would anyone be awake at ten minutes to eleven at night? And in my bedroom?
I was desperately searching for an excuse for this stranger to somehow be related to me, and real- I hoped this woman's arrival was completely unremarkable. It was certainly a shock.
I had been wondering who this woman was for what seemed like an eternity, so I refocused my eyes and examined my surroundings.
I looked for evidence of the mystery woman's presence.
Nothing.
I listened for footsteps.
Silent emptiness.
I waited for an explanation to suddenly occur to me.
There WAS no explanation.
The woman's arrival appears to have been purely coincidental - or was it? To this day I don't know. I haven't seen the woman since, and don't really wish to.
http://i.ytimg.com/vi/-NfrgoDoHuw/0.jpg
HOLY PANTS THATS A SCARY HALLOWEEN PROP.
Well, It's a good thing I wasent planning on sleeping tonight.
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poppypaynterscratch wrote:
The Theatre
Have you ever heard of an old PC game called “The Theater”? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Probably because many people say it doesn’t even exist. You see, The Theater is an old computer game released around the same time as Doom. Today, if you ever find it, it’s only available on * bootleg CD-ROMs, which, more often than naught don’t even actually contain the game. The actual legitimate copies that they say were released back in the day feature a blank cover with nothing but the sprite of what has since been named the ‘the Ticket-Taker’. He is simply a poorly drawn, pixelated Caucasian, bald man with large red lips wearing a red vest over a white shirt and black pants. He is completely emotionless, though some say that if you smash the disc his face is shown as angry the next time you look at the cover. But this is just dismissed as an urban myth. What is peculiar about The Theater, though, is that there is no developer named on the jewel case, nor a game description on the back. It is simply the Ticket-Taker on a white backdrop on both sides.
The game was initially known for its inability to install correctly. The installation process immediately locks up the computer when the user reaches the licensing agreement. Also strange about the licensing agreement for The Theater is that whenever the development studio is supposed to be named, the text is simply a blank line. Anyways, most people who have claimed to owning one of the original CDs say that they figured out how to install the game by simply rebooting their computer on the licensing agreement with the disc still inside. Then they are prompted to press ‘I AGREE’ on startup. Then they continue with the installation. The game then starts up without any introduction besides a main menu that is simply the sprite of a movie theater’s exterior on an empty city street. The title fades in and then the 3 menu buttons ‘NEW GAME, LOAD, OPTIONS’. Selecting OPTIONS immediately crashes the game to the desktop. LOAD is said not to function at all. Even if you do have a saved game, nothing happens when you press it. Thus, NEW GAME is the only working menu option.
Once it is selected you are in the first person view. You are standing in an empty movie theater lobby, with the exception of the Ticket-Taker standing in front of a dark hallway which one can only assume leads to the theaters themselves. There’s nothing to do but look at the poorly-drawn, mostly illegible movie posters or approach the Ticket-Taker. Once the player moves towards the Ticket-Taker a very low-quality sound clip plays saying “THANK YOU PLEASE ENJOY THE MOVIE” along with a speechbox saying the same thing. You then walk into the hallway and the screen fades to black and you’re back in the empty lobby and you do the exact thing again and again and again.
While this may sound like a really horrible game, a number of peculiar things occur as you continue to play it. The number of times that you have to continue into the hall after giving your ticket to the Ticket-Taker before the strange events happen is unknown. Most state that it’s completely random and could take anywhere from the first playthrough to the four hundredth. What happens, though, has deeply disturbed some players.
The first occurrence is when the player fades back in after walking into the hallway. This time they will notice the Ticket-Taker is completely absent. The player then, without any other options, decides to walk into the dark hallway. The sound clip and text box mentioned previously still play in the absence of the Ticket-Taker, but when the player walks into the hallways the screen does not fade out. It goes pitch black as they walk deeper into the hall, but the player’s footstep sound clip is still playing as they continue to push the up button on their keyboard. Those claiming to have played the original game report to have felt extremely uncomfortable walking down the hallway, anticipating the whole way something horrible happening. Well, eventually the player is unable to move forward. There is nothing for a few moments before a strange sprite that is described as ‘the Ticket-Taker but with a swirl for a face’ appears and stands before the player. The original players of the game say their bodies immediately froze up and their stomachs churned they saw this sprite (which has been appropriately named the ‘Swirly Head Man’). Nothing happens as the Swirly Head Man stands before them. Then suddenly a piercing screech plays as the game glitches out. This lasts for a few minutes, with the screeching being continuous. Then the player is abruptly returned to the lobby with all the sounds and graphics being as they should be.
The game continues normally for the next couple of ‘cycles’ of entering the hallway, with a couple of the original players claiming the Swirly Head Man would briefly appear and disappear in the corner of the screen as a brisk ‘yelp’ sound effect plays. Then, at some point after meeting the Swirly Head Man, the player sees the Ticket-Taker pacing back and forth (though there is no walking animation - the sprite’s limbs are completely static, so he just hops up and down slightly as a substitute) with his eyes being wide and his mouth open to simulate a worried facial expression. Some players noted that the movie posters had been replaced with images of the Swirly Head Man, which caused them to immediately turn their character’s head away from the posters and approach the Ticket-Taker. Then another, different, low-quality sound clip plays, but the speech box contains nothing but corrupted characters that cause whatever text that would have been in the box to be completely illegible. Due to the extremely low quality of the sound, it is debated by players what exactly the Ticket-Taker says at this point, though it is widely agreed that he says ‘NEVER REACH THE OTHER LEVELS’. Then the screen fades out once again and returns the player back to their starting point in the lobby, but the Ticket-Taker is gone and the hallway is blocked by a large brick wall sprite. Touching the brick wall will immediately crash the game. And that’s all there is to it. No one knows what the ‘Other Levels’ are or how to gain access to them, nor is it known why the Swirly Head Man causes such acute fear in those who have seen him in the game. All the original copies of The Theater have either been lost or destroyed. But the creepiest part is the fact that is that all the original players of the game claim to occasionally see a brief glimpse of the Swirly Head Man out of the corner of their eyes…
I wonder what the swirly head man looks like
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The_Dancing_Donut wrote:
When I first saw that pic, I had my browser zoomed in all the way! XD
Last edited by slapperbob (2011-06-15 20:21:00)
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banana500 wrote:
One time a guy got locked in a library after it closed. Then, he looked at books to pass the time. There was this one book called "Scary Stories", and there was a label on it saying "DO NOT READ".
The guy opened the book. And then the book ate him.
His body was never found but they did find the book. The book never got banned from the library, because when the librarian tried to do it, the book ate him also.
THE END
LOL
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I've got two.
"So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is “wut r u doing wit my daughter?” U tell ur girl n she say “my dad is ded”. THEN WHO WAS PHONE?"
And:
"A FEW YEARS AGO A MAN WAS WALKING DOWN A ROAD BECAUSE HIS CAR BROKE DOWN AND HE SAW A CAR COMING UP BEHIND HIM SO HE STUCK OUT HIS THUMB TO HITCH HIKE AND THE CAR STOPPED AHEAD OF HIM. HE RAN UP TO THE PASSENGER SIDE AND OPENED THE DOOR. WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR A SKELETON POPPED OUT"
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If you delve deep into the internet's infinite depths, you may come across a small, obscure, self made blog called Htcho$%ils. The blog has no graphics whatsoever, just plain black text across a white screen. There are only 2 posts. One is simply a string of corrupted text and special symbols merged together. Some people claim to see various, feeble excuses for the link in the second post materialize when they stare at the illegible text for long enough. Examples include-"gaem 4 my borther second birhtday" or "linkk 2 beta tester gaem no gd"
The second post, as already implied, contains a link. This link, if clicked, leads to a small game against a dark red background with pixels of green scattered at random spots. The game has a very short introductory animation, showing a badly pixelated picture of a skeletal looking humanoid thing with no face whatsoever, and a label below it reading,"Asker". '
Then, it switches to a picture of a clearing in a huge forest, with exactly one small rickety house. The label is,"Asker + Mong hous", which is commonly agreed to mean that the house belongs to Asker and Mong, who live in there. Mong is then revealed to be a picture similar to Asker, but rather young and slightly less skeletal. His face consists of two dark dots and a jagged line. Nobody is really certain if his "mouth" is expressing happiness, sorrow or anger. One player has said that he thought Mong looked regretful, while another has claimed Mong was frustrated.
Regardless, after the animation, there are 2 options-Play and Exit. Clicking Exit would immediately destroy your computer. You would have to reinstall the OS altogether. The only known way of successfully quitting the game is by exiting your browser, but even that has been sometimes known to bring up the "Blue Screen" for Windows users, or auto shut-down the computer for Mac and Linux users.
If the player clicked Play, it would show the house, Mong, which the player controlled, standing on one side and Asker standing on the opposite side. The view was third person, and movement was similar to the popular games Pokemon or Zelda. After some experimentation, players have learned that up, down, left and right were controlled by t, u, i and o respectively. Today, no one still knows why the creator chose those movement keys.
Interaction was controlled in a more conventional way, with the space bar. There were three things the players could interact with. The forest, which simply restarted the game, back to the opening animation, the house , which brought up a dialogue box saying,"no hous, no sheltr, ded", and Asker, which would simply play a very low volume sound clip. It is generally agreed that the sounds are a crackle, some static then a quiet thud, in that order.
The player learned that if he spun on the spot 13 times, a sort of doppelganger of Mong would appear on a random spot. If the original Mong moved left, so did the doppelganger. However, if they spun on the spot again, the doppelganger would teleport to a random location. After some spins, most players managed to get the doppelganger to interact with Asker and the original to interact with the house(or vice versa) at the same time. This would bring up the original dialogue box of "no hous, no sheltr, ded" while at the same time playing the sound clip.
For some reason, players have an uncontrollable urge to immediately close the game. The blog disappeared without a trace in 2008. Most theorize that its creator, "W0lfrensten908029", have deleted it.
Interestingly, however, that was only after careful and logical thought. When the players heard or saw that the blog was deleted, all of them immediately knew that Asker had died, and brought the game and blog along with him.
None of them knew why this jumped to their minds.
[You guys liked it? I might write a crossover creepypasta if you guys agree. You see, I just noticed that Asker was very physically similar to Herobrine...]
Last edited by helltank (2011-06-19 01:37:20)
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Sunrise-Moon wrote:
echs wrote:
I never thought my constant walks in the park with my GBA was that weird. I would just walk the length of the park every day to school. I'm still doing it, even though I walk to work now. As a matter of fact, my work isn't really close to the park at all. I guess that's why I got fired.
I'm sitting in the park now, playing my old Pokemon Ruby. I've beaten it multiple times, and I alwayes restart with a different name. I recall that when I played the Elite Four last night before going to bed, some of the squirrels were pestering me for food. I beat it, and so now I'm going to start the game up again. As I start the game up,
(Stenographer's Note: The suspect was unable to relay any more until several hours later, when the detectives got fed up)
Where was I? Oh yes. I started the game up, ready to press New Game. I could hardly wait. When I came to the main menu, I pressed New Game. Prof. Oak came up, and he asked for my name. Before I could type in my new name, the keys pressed of their own accord. They spelled out "silence." No, I won't tell any more. I won't! Get your hands off me! Get them off me!
(Stenographer's Note: At this point the suspect became quite deranged and began saying that the detectives were touching him. No one was even close to him. He began to utter strange phrases and eventually became silent for several hours until the detectives finally got him to speak again.)
When Prof. Oak registered my name, he didn't ask my gender. He said 'Oh, you're one of the specials? Well, the order has a new message for you.' I thought this was very curious. The message was a lot of beeps and zeroes and ones, until the words 'LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER' appeared on the screen. When I looked over my shoulder, what I saw was not pleasant. It was a movie screen, in the Whole World. I saw men and women, standing in a line, dying. They screamed as they perished. Their blood fed my terror, and I ran. Somehow, I managed to hold on to my GBA, and I looked at it for a second as I ran out of breath. The screen read, 'KEEP RUNNING.' I didn't question it. I ran with a second wind. I must have ran a long way, because I came to the end of the park. In front of me were the people, dead. I glanced at my GBA. It read, 'SIT DOWN.' I sat. Then it said, 'WILL YOU DO AS WE SAY?' and it had a Yes/No option. I pressed No. 'YOU WILL DO AS WE SAY.' It said Yes/No. I pressed Yes. It read, 'YOU WILL PICK UP THE GUN.' I picked up the gun. I hadn't really noticed it before. The screen read, 'PUT THE GUN IN YOUR MOUTH.' I did so. It then read, 'NOW WAIT.' I waited, and then I was rudely interruped by you. As I was arrested, I glanced at the GBA. It read, 'NOW YOU MUST-
(Stenographer's Note: At this point the suspect began to have a seizure. He chocked on his tongue before he could elaborate. The detectives took out the GBA from the evidence locker. They turned it on, and the screen read, 'YOU ARE NOT ONE. OF THE.')If you want to write a story that breaks rule four, write it like this please^^
i liked it. it wus actually pretty good
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scratch_yoshi wrote:
Lost Emrald:
I decided to edit Lost Silver a little bit... ∑:<
This is not my story. And I know what your thinking "AH A wall of text AH!!!" but just read. and for all the mods, I censored the cursing so you don't have to bother ^_^
You see, I am a simple college student living alone in an apartment. I was very enthusiastic about the release of HeartGold/SoulSilver on the states. I have purposely locked myself out of all media and the internet aside for school purposes. That means no 4chan, no /v/, no Bulbapedia, etc.
As I was busy with the school year and being a poor*** at the time, I wasn't able to buy SoulSilver on launch date. After my school year ended, I ordered SoulSilver on Amazon (sorry, I rather be poor than a pirate). However, it would take a week for it to arrive. I decided that during that time, I replay my Emrald version on my GBA.
However, I realized that long ago, my mom threw it away because I told her the save went dead, and I was very upset about it then. She also threw away my Emrald version, so all I have is my GBA SP. As such, I set out to Gamestop and bought a used Emrald version, as it's the only Pokemon game left that they have for the GBA. Ten dollars - fairly cheap despite it being Gamestop (******* GAMESTOP!).
I went home and started it up for a Hoenn trip. However, that's where things started getting bizarre, and most likely the reason why you read this.
-----
The Gamefreak logo started up as normal, but it just froze there. I thought the cart was just errored or something, so I turned it off and on. The same thing happened. I tried pressing A, B, Start and Select over and over, and all of the buttons. Eventually, the logo vanished and there was a black screen for about five seconds. Suddenly, rather than going to the usual menu screen, I was already in the game in a previous saved file, which was odd as I was expecting all of these carts to have been wiped by the poor battery. Either way, I wasn't complaining, as I would have chosen the "Continue" option to see what the previous guy did anyways.
First off, I checked his trainer information. His name was just "..." - He didn't have much originality. I checked his profile and apparently he had 999:59 hours put into the game, with all 8 badges, 999999 Pokedollars and all 493 Pokemon on the Pokedex. Since he must had Mew and Celebi logged also, I am guessing he either used an Action Replay or is a really hardcore Pokemon player.
I checked his Pokemon to see what [removed by moderator] team he has. To my surprise, I saw 5 Unowns and a sixth Pokemon named "HURRY". I'm thinking that this must be some cruel joke by the person who last played this game, but I decided to check the profiles of those Pokemon anyways. As expected, they were different letters of Unown, all Level 5. I was a bit shaky with my Unown alphabet at the time, but I identified the word spelled out to be "LEAVE".
As for the sixth Pokemon, it turned out to be a Torchic. The Torchic looked normal, but it was Level 5 with only 1 HP left with only two attacks: "Leer" and "Flash". I don't know why they named him "HURRY", but at the time, I just disregarded it. The most eerie thing was that, despite my volume being at max, none of the Pokemon he had said their usual cries. Just pure silence.
-----
Having enough of the team, I closed it. I was parked at what appears to be a room inside Magma HQ. However, for some reason, there were no NPCs around. There was no music at all, and there was no exit or ladder, or least I thought there wasn't.
I walked around for a few minutes but can't seem to find a way out. This was certainly not a room I've seen in the HQ before. I've tried checking my items for an Escape Rope, but the bag was completely empty.
Finally, I've managed to find stairs. The screen turned black and the music finally started playing.
I immediately realize that it wasn't a loading transition, but rather I was in a dark room and would need Flash. Brendan ("..." from earlier, and I will call him Brendan from now on) was just walking in a midst of black.
-----
I recall that Torchic has Flash, so I made Torchic use Flash. I didn't see any message saying "HURRY has used Flash!" or anything like that. The room just became lit just like that, and I soon regretted it. The room was a chilling blood-red with a linear gray path heading south. The stairs I used to go up/down was not there at all.
I had no choice but to head south. The screen became darker every 20 steps I made, until I finally made it to the end, which appears to be a sign. I read the sign, which said "TURN BACK NOW".
Suddenly, I was asked to answer YES/NO, but there was no question asked. I chose YES as I do not know what it was asking, and the screen went black again, making a "ladder climbed" sound. The odd music stopped, and in a few seconds was replaced with the not-as-creepy Poke Flute radio music.
I was in another dark room, but I held my breath and used Flash again. Suddenly, it said that "HURRY has fainted!" which was odd since I recall that there was no status conditions like Poison on Torchic, and I clearly wasn't in a battle. I checked my Pokemon quickly and suddenly he's no longer in my party. In fact, after a bit of investigating, none of my Pokemon before were there, but instead were all replaced with Level 10 Unown. I did the same thing as before and spelled out the Unown. My then team of Unown spelled "HEDIED".
-----
Either way, after that creepy change, the room was lit to reveal myself in a very small room that appears to be only four squares big. The walls of that room were gray bricks, as if I was inside something that was hollowed out. Outside that room appears to be a bunch of graves similar to the ones in Pokemon Red/Blue's Lavendar Town. I've walked around that small room and pressed A but nothing happened.
I've already concluded at this point that this was clearly a hacked game and some ******** ****** sold it to Gamestop to troll whoever buys it. However, my curiosity kept me going. I checked the trainer profile of "..." again only to find out that the sprite of Brendan was missing his arms. He also seems to appear less happy, but rather seems more sad and empty in a way that I do not know how to describe. For some reason, it also now said that he has 24 badges, which was clearly impossible given that there was only one region.
After a few minutes of aimless wondering, my character suddenly spun and did the Escape Rope spinning animation. Instead of flying up though, my character spun downwards slowly, as if sinking.
After that screen, the music stopped. After finally landing, the overworld sprite of Brendan is coloured differently now. Instead of the usual grey-red colour he dons, he appears completely white now, including his skin. It's as if he came straight from the colorless Game Boy games placed into a colored background of the Gameboy Advance. The only exception to this is that his eyes are red now, which reminded me of Mother 3's hidden boss, if you know about it. I checked his profile, and now, while now is as white as his overworld sprite, he lost his legs and has what appears to be bloody tears from his eyes. It also says he now has 32 badges, which now starts to disturb me as this change of number seems to represent something important.
-----
I also checked my Pokemon, which this time contains 5 Unowns and a Level 100 Celebi without a nickname. The Unown are this time Leveled 15 and spelled out "DYING". I checked the Celebi's profile. It was a shiny Celebi, except there's only half of the sprite. One leg, one arm, one eye. It only has one attack: "Perish Song".
The area I was in itself was the HQ, everything in the room is apparently shaded red now. I walked north for what felt like forever. Eventually, I finally encountered some generic men and women NPC. They were all lined up to the side just facing the wall. They were also white, and nothing happens when I try to speak to them. I kept on going north until eventually the wall, with a transparent Wallace in that spot. I went up to Wallace and without even pressing A, I was suddenly engaged and finally in a battle.
The music starts again, which it sounds like the Unown Radio music again, but played in reverse. Brendan's battle backsprite matches his front one with the bloody eyes, white skin, and lack of arms, while Wallace's sprite was the same as before in RSE except transparent/colorless. The text simply said "wants to battle!" as if he has no name, and both of us only have one Pokemon each, which is weird as I swear I had six with the Unowns. My shiny Celebi came out, conveniently with half-a-sprite for the back sprite also. The "Shiny" noise and animation was different, as the sounds it made sound like multiple "Screech" attacks used consecutively. Wallace sent out a seemingly normal male Wailord, except he is at an extreme Level 255 and his sprite seems sad and has tears in his eyes.
-----
Rather than the usual "FIGHT/ITEM/PKMN/RUN" menu, I was only given the option to use the Attacks. Since Celebi only has one (Perish Song), I chose it. Naturally, since Wailord was Level 255 and is generally fast, he went first.
"WAILORD used CURSE!", lowering his Speed and increasing his other Stats. I'm not even sure if Wailord could even use Curse.
"CELEBI used PERISH SONG!" In three turns, both Pokemon get KO'd - not like I have a choice.
At this point, it didn't even go back to the Fight menu, as the battle just continued without me. Also note that there was no animations at all for some reason.
"WAILORD used FLAIL!", which didn't do much damage despite his Level and boost as his health was maxed.
"CELEBI used PERISH SONG!" Nothing happens as it was already used.
"WAILORD used FRUSTRATION!", which did a * of damage, knocking Celebi down to less than 10 HP.
"CELEBI used PAIN SPLIT!", which surprised me as Celebi didn't even have that attack in the first place. Now Celebi and Wailord have about 150 HP.
"WAILORD used MEAN LOOK!" Not like that did anything given I only have one Pokemon, but now I'm certain that Houndoom can't learn that.
"CELEBI used PERISH SONG!", yet another pointless Perish Song was used.
As expected, due to the effects of Perish Song, my Celebi fainted. Except in the text, it said "CELEBI has died!" and instead of the ordinary drop off the screen animation, the Celebi backsprite just vanished. For some reason, the Wailord was still up even with Perish Song and it didn't count as my lost. Wailord used one more different attack beyond the 5 attack limit:
"WAILORD used DESTINY BOND!"
Afterwards, it said "WAILORD has died!", with a slow fade-out animation. Apparently, I was the winner, as the transparent Wallace sprite showed up and said ".........."
-----
At that point, I freaked out, as transparent Wallace's head suddenly vanished, leaving nothing but his transparent body. The battle then ended at that point and faded out along with the music.
I'm back in the overworld, with another change to the Brendan sprite - he's now as transparent as Cyrus's overworld sprite. I quickly checked Brendan's profile, where this time the only thing remains of him is his head, with a transparent skin. The head was zoomed in a bit, showing a black void in his eyes. It now stated that he now has 40 badges. I then backed out and checked my Pokemon. They were all Level 20 Unown, which when spelled out, read "NOMORE".
I was at what I now know is next to the end. There was apparently no music playing, but for some reason I still felt like something was there that could be heard. I was back in my room in Littleroot Town. Maybe finally I get to play this game properly, but who am I kidding. I knew that ****** ***** must have done something. I "walked" around my room to interact with things, as I'm a bit afraid to go down the stairs to see what was awaiting down there. Note I said "walked", as just like those ghosts you see in Diamond/Pearl, Brendan was not moving his transparent limbs at all as he walked. Instead, he just floating around as the background moves with him.
-----
As expected, computer and TV did not work, so I had no choice but to go down the stairs. I ended up in the same lower level room of my house. Everything appears normal, except mom isn't home. After failing to interact with anything in this room, I decided to go outside. To my surprised, that door leading outside at the south didn't work, and instead I just walk straight through it to a void. I continued moving south to see what the **** was going on. My house vanishes as I head south into the void. It was creepy as when I entered the void, the outline on Brendan's transparent sprite turned white to contrast with the pitch black. Eventually, I reached a white area and Brendan's sprite turned black and transparent again. I continued south without thinking of stopping at all.
After a long trek south, I finally encountered something. It was Brendans's regular sprite. I talked to it. He said "Good bye forever ...." (notably with a space inbetween the forever and ....), and vanished. As that happened, it said "??? used NIGHTMARE" which at that point, I would not deny would be impossible to do. Brendan did another Escape Rope animation spinning slowly downwards like before.
I'm now back into that small hollowed-out room surrounded by graves earlier. Or at least I say I was back there, as there's no sprite anymore. I tried to walk around but nothing moved - not even wall bumping noise. I checked my trainer profile with absolutely no Lucas sprite left. It said I have 0 badges and all the faces of the Hoenn Gym Leaders on the next page of the profile were replaced with skulls.
I checked my Pokemon, which were all Level 25 Unown. As expected, it spelled out a phrase that I dared to read. "IMDEAD"
-----
As soon as I went back to the overworld, the room I supposedly was in was then covered with the same blocks as the walls. I then figured out what exactly that room was when the final text was said: "R.I.P. ..."
That room was a big grave, surrounded by other grave. Brendan has already been dead. He died presumably a few years after he defeated Wallace.
He was a young trainer who, despite his efforts in collecting so many badges and attempts at becoming a Pokemon master, was still unable to avoid the inevitable fate of death, and his efforts were eventually forgotten by the next generation. His beloved Pokemon he worked so hard to raise has perished with him without a trace. This fate happened to his predecessor Gold, and Brendan has joined him.
I was unable to escape from that text no matter what I pressed. I tried resetting the game, and the same thing happened, at which I then finally decided to give up on that horrible nightmare.
I saw Magma HQ there, most likely from my RPG, magma rpg!
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Once a man died of Weegee. The end.
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