Scratch

C'mon guys, are you purposely ignoring my stories?

majormax wrote:

This is a true story

One day in the outer banks, me and my cousins found a Dora doll. Its head was made out of plastic.
  So for the duration of the trip, we tossed it up and down our 3 story house. It eventually developed a crack through it's left eye. Now it looked very creepy.
  Here's the scary part:
  One night, me and my cousins were home alone while our parents went out to eat. I had placed the Dora doll behind some chairs on the 3rd floor.
  That night, we watched Pirates of the Caribbean. When we were done, we all went up to the third floor to get ice cream, but we stayed away from the chairs. When we finished our ice cream, we went down into our room. We read our books. Everybody was scared of the Dora doll though.
  Eventually, we got too scared, and decided to call our parents to see when they would be home. The only problem was that the phone was on the 3rd floor.
  Me and my cousin went up to get the phone. We were scared out of our minds. We got the phone and were going down the stairs when we hear a thud. We ran back into our room.
  When our parents got back we checked on the Dora doll. It was not behind the chairs. After some searching, we found it in a second floor bathroom.
  I brought the Dora doll back home with me. Now it is in my house. Every now and then, I see it turn up in a different place. I haven't seen it in a while though.
  I think it left.

Ok, I am NOT sleeping tonight.

fallengames wrote:

God’s Mouth

I huffed and puffed under my breath as I stared into God’s Mouth. I felt like the Big Bad Wolf ready to interrupt the innocent little pigs as they hurriedly fortified their makeshift homes. I grinned at this thought and then turned my head to look for Margaret. She was a couple of feet down the hill from the entrance of the cave, holding a walking stick close to her petite ******s. “Hurry up!” I called down to her. I turned back to the cave, still grinning. An old, rotted sign outside read ‘God’s Mouth Cave: Keep Out!’ What a tired cliché.

Margaret finally made it to the entrance and stood beside me, almost doubled over and out of breath. I looked down and smiled. “Check it out!” I laughed. “God’s mouth. Wonder where Jesus’ **** is?” I chuckled to myself. Margaret was less amused.

“Give me the **** water bottle,” she said, exasperated. The open bottle met her lips, and for a moment I felt peaceful in a way, watching her drink the water. Actually I take that back. The ‘peaceful’ comment, I mean. It was more of a feeling that was sort of hard to put my finger on or give a name, but I could settle for a nice ‘content’. Content seemed to be one of those words that manifest itself when natural, human words seemed to fail. Again, an utter cliché, but it felt good to feel a strange, mixed-up sort of happy for once.

I sighed and turned my flashlight on. I pointed it into the cave. Black. God’s Mouth. This seemed like the antithesis of a Holy Spirit. I turned again to Margaret. “You ready?” I asked. She was finally standing straight up. She nodded. I clapped a friendly hand to her back and we walked into God’s Mouth.

The inside was not unlike the preview I had glimpsed outside with my flashlight. Dark, dismal, and endlessly black. It seemed to stretch endlessly, no matter how I positioned my flashlight. The rocky terrain was damp and imposing. The last natural light slowly disappeared behind Margaret and I as we made our way deeper and deeper. I found it strange how soft and compelling the world around me now appeared, despite the stalactites, stalagmites, and other various rocky formations being so jagged. It seemed that even amongst the pointed teeth of God I could lay down and rest there forever. It was comfortable.

Apparently Margaret didn’t agree. She shivered uncomfortably under my arm. I raised my eyebrows. “Need your coat?” I asked. I tried to look at her and make non-verbal communication as explicit as possible until I realized that we were lost inky blackness of the Mouth. I bit my lip and waited, but she didn’t respond. For a couple minutes we walked in silence. She stopped and stood motionless. I stopped, too.

“Why the **** are we even in here?” she said. She sounded irritated. I shrugged – more to appease myself than her – and shoved my flashlight under my face. Bladed shadows obscured half my face, the other half illuminated in a wretched mask. “Spooky!” I cried, chuckling. She didn’t move.

I sighed. “I thought you wanted to go,” I said. I noticed how my voice echoed against the cave walls at any volume. “I mean,” I began again, scratching at my chin, “You did say you wanted to go see some nature for our vacation. And you did sound impressed when I told you about my visit to Mammoth Caves a couple years back. So…” My voice trailed off. I could still sense her irritation.

“No,” she said. I frowned. “No, you wanted to go here. I wanted to go to a beach or something. But no, a cave. A cave, Nathan!” She sounded more like the Big Bad Wolf now. “I know that you have this weird fetish for spelunking or something, but I don’t really want to be dragged in to it. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go on a trip and get into nature and fresh air, but this,” I could hear her arms flail and gesture about in the thick air. “This is cave air, not fresh air. This air is practically fermenting! Plus, isn’t this illegal? Can we please just leave?”

We both stood there. The only sound that could be heard was the electricity in the air being stifled and smothered by the damp atmosphere. Finally, I began to walk. I didn’t hear Margaret follow me, but I kept moving forward. Then, “Nathan,” she said, “Stop. Please stop.” So I stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she said. I could hear her moving closer to me. “I’m tired and I’m not used to running and climbing around and the like. I’m just tired.”

“It’s okay,” I said. She gripped my arm. “Really. It’s fine.” I shook my head. “Which way is out? I don’t remember.” I could feel Margaret physically pause. Neither of us could remember. Somehow, in the confusion of our argument, I’d forgotten which way we had been moving. Idiot, I thought to myself, I should have brought a god**** rope or something to trail from the entrance of the cave. I had to take action, so without much thought, I turned 180 degrees and said, “This way.”

We walked for what seemed to be hours. My feet were tired and sore, and I could hear Margaret’s groans from behind me. She held my hand tightly. I felt terrible. This was my fault.

Then, I froze. “Hey. Hey,” I said, “Put your hand out. Feel this rock.” I could hear Margaret’s bare palm press against the stone. “Isn’t this, like…abnormally warm?” I said. She didn’t say anything. I began to work my way along the wall, feeling it as I went, shining the flashlight in front of me. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my head as the ceiling of God’s Mouth met with my scalp.

“Ow! ****!” I shouted.

“Oh, Nick, are you okay?” Margaret asked. She seemed on the verge of panic now.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Please, calm down. We’ll get out of here soon, I promise.”

I started again, pointing my flashlight upwards now to see the ceiling above me. It seemed to be getting narrower. That was strange. “Listen, uh, Margaret, babe,” I said through clenched teeth, “I think we gotta turn around.” Margaret sighed next to me.

Again, we walked for a decent length. I kept my flashlight pointed upwards this time. Sure enough, the space in the cave seemed to become smaller and smaller. If there was any resonating light left in God’s Mouth aside from my flashlight, I’m sure Margaret would have been able to see the whites of my eyes, spreading in panic. We were completely lost.

I let go of Margaret’s hand and began to feverishly feel my way along the walls. “No, Nathan!” I heard her shout. I kept going. We had to get out. If we were lost, nobody would be able to find us.

I kept feeling along the wall until I abruptly hit a corner. “****,” I said aloud. “Margaret, this seems to be a dead end.” I spun around on my heel. “Margaret?” No answer. ****.

I began to repeat my process again, almost running as I felt the wall run past my fingertips. Cool, damp rocks and jagged spears. Suddenly, I found myself at a corner again. “**** **** ****,” I shouted. “Margaret!” I was belting her name out now. In the corner of the cave’s maw where I had been thwarted so many times already, I heard a noise. It sounded like muffled static from a television. I pressed my ear against the rock. It seemed to be getting even warmer now. I heard the faint sounds of Margaret on the other side of the rock. She was screaming.

“No no no,” I said. “No no no no no.” I began running haphazardly into the walls around me. With dawning realization came a wave of sheer horror. There was no entrance. There was no exit. Only these four corners and me.

I could feel blood begin to trickle from the cut I managed to get by bashing my body into the cave’s walls. They were closing in on me. They were coming in for the kill, and soon they would be pressing in on my skull and crushing my rib cage.

I sat there for hours, waiting for death. My flashlight was becoming dim and blinking. Finally, I felt the soft touch of these rocky walls press against my back. I began to cry as I lay down on the ground. I let my flashlight roll on the small hills of stone. As I quietly stayed prone, tears dripping down my face, I turned and looked at the flashlight. Its last, fading beams of light pointed at something not far away from my face. I squinted in the darkness. My eyes widened and I felt tears fall even harder from my face. The rocks were piercing my skin now and blood dripped from all sides.

There, in the last light of my flashlight, was the appetizer. The spotlight shone on a hand whose nails were painted red, and I screamed in agony as I watched God’s Mouth chew its latest meal.

OH MY GOSH. I'm NOT sleeping tonight.

fallengames wrote:

God’s Mouth
cut 4 space

that. was. AWESOME!
t started off a little boring, but it ended great!

Last edited by imnotbob (2011-06-23 09:56:34)

Here's a true story that will make your jaw drop.


One day, someone proclaimed he hated Super Mario 64. He called it the worst game of all time.

Thank you to the people who complemented the creepy pasta I found. Oh, and helltank, I really like your stories.    I think you will be a fantastic horror-story writer!

owetre18 wrote:

"My life sucks! My wife left me, my kid hates me, and nearly all of my family is dead!" he yelled. There was a crash, and then the guy blacked out.

. End Transmission|:.
___________________________________________

He was found dead with a pen and paper in his right hand and an empty gun in his left. His throat was slit, and there was a small hole on the back of his skull. The C.S.I has no clue how, but all of his organs were out of his body. It was suspected that his organs were pulled out through his throat, but there were no pieces of his organs stuck there. His eyes were open, but ghostly white. His body was locked in a freezer.

__________________________________________

A week later, people started dying, with the same ghostly white eyes as the first guy. Their organs were pulled out in the same matter, with a slit in the throat and a hole in the back of their head. A copy-cat or a serial killer is suspected. The first body was still in the freezer, but looked different. It was... bloodier. His whole body was covered in blood.

__________________________________________

Weeks later, his eyes closed, then opened, then closed again. The body was moving. In fact, every person who was killed in the same way was awakened. It has begun...

_________________________________________

The small of death filled the air as the bodies, 23 in all, got up and started moving. The rampaged down the streets, smashing everything in sight. They seemed to have developed superhuman strength, and superhuman smell. They were like animals. No, they were animals. Zombies? No, they don't eat flesh, so they can't be zombies. Maybe they are possessed.

________________________________________

They have started to kill people, by sliting their throats with their sharp nails, taking their guts out, and then sticking their fingers through the back of their heads. Their eyes turned white, and they got up and did the same. It was a massacre. The apocalypse has begun.

_______________________________________

We need to kill them. We need to figure out how to kill them. They seem to unaffected by many things, including:

- Fire (they just run around, on fire, unaffected)
- Guns (their flesh just grows back)
- Knives (same as guns and swords)
- Swords (same as guns and knives)
- Garlic (did nothing, except throw it at us)
- Bright light (just shielded eyes, like a normal human)
- VERY loud noise (covered ears)
- Dogs (now we have dogs the same way, killing other dogs)
- Poisen (nothing, they just made a face like it was sour)
- Acid (they won't burn)
- Tearing limb from limb (they just pulled themselves together again)

So, what do we do?

_________________________

More to be written.

sorry, but this story is VEEEEEERRY graphic...

I once took a potato chip and...ATE IT!! *dramatic music* The End.

Vurb wrote:

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"

*facepalm*

banana500 wrote:

Vurb wrote:

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"

*facepalm*

I substitute your *facepalm*

samid11 wrote:

UltimateE-HeroNeos wrote:

I once took a potato chip and...ATE IT!! *dramatic music* The End.

stop stealing deathnote quotes...

I have become a corpse. I cannot answer. I am dead.

July 1
A scary story...
In the summer of 2004, when I was nine, Mom let my older brother Lewis take me and my little sister Peggy to the beach unsupervised. She said that Lewis, being fifteen, was old enough to look out for us, even though he griped about it the whole morning. I loved living in California; so warm and close to the beach, unlike Oregon, where we had been up until Peggy was born.
    I played games with Peggy and built moats for our castles, and we dug for sand-crabs. Peggy’s face was bright pink because she’d refused to put on sunscreen, and Lewis didn’t mind what we did. It was a perfect day, July 1, 2004.
    Then Peggy started to join some other children at the shoreline. They would stand on wet sand and shriek and jump back when the tide came in. “Don’t do that, Peggy…” I said. “You can’t swim.”
    “Neither can you!” she said, giggling, in front of the other five-year-olds. That was so embarrassing! I didn’t need a gaggle of five-year-olds knowing I had never learned to swim. I decided I didn’t care what Peggy did.
    Peggy got too brave. She walked out too far, where the waves came in. “Peggy McKay!” I shouted. “Come back right now. You know you shouldn’t do that. It’s dangerous. Come back right now! Peggy, aren’t you listening?”
    Except she wasn’t.
    The others cheered her on. “Go, Peggy!” one of her little friends shouted. “You’re braver than your sister,” she added, looking right at me. That stung. Maybe I wasn’t as brave, but I was smarter, and I didn’t care what those little kids thought of me. I did, however, care about Peggy, and the fact that what she was doing was dangerous—and that she was ignoring me!
    I ran out to where Peggy was until the water was up to my waist. She was in her bathing suit, but I was wearing shorts and they were soggy. Mom would be so mad if she knew I was ruining my new summer clothes. “Peggy, come back now,” I pleaded.
    Peggy looked at me. “You’re just scared, Vicky.”
    “I’m not…” I shuddered as something slimy brushed my foot. A piece of seaweed? An eel? I didn’t care to know. “But,” I said, taking authority, “you’ll be in very big trouble if Mom and Dad find out you’re going out so far.”
    “Nah, nah, nah-nah-nah!” she screeched, splashing me and soaking my yellow shirt.
    “I hate you!” I screamed, just as a huge wave roared in. A big one. I felt faint, I was scared of the ocean, I admit it, I was I was I was… The foamy white and black crashed over me and I was enveloped in salty water that burned my eyes. My lids squeezed shut and I gasped for air, but instead, water filled my throat and mouth. Choking and spluttering, I groped blindly for Peggy.
    My head rose briefly above the water, with my mousy brown hair plastered to my forehead. “Peggy! Peggy!” I screamed. I didn’t see her pink face bobbing anywhere, and with a thrill of dread I realized that she must be still underwater. I dove beneath the water again and plowed down. My heart raced. I had to close my eyes or else get them burned with salt. Peggy… Peggy…
    My hand went out and grasped something thick and cold and slippery, and I was so scared that I screamed out loud. Again nasty salt water drained down my throat and I tried to breathe in a panic, but I couldn’t, my lungs were being filled—
    For a moment, my eyes sprang open and hardly stung at all. I was shaking and my lungs screamed for air, but I was so far from the surface… I didn’t care much at the moment. Where was Peggy? I had to save her! Cold words slipped into my brain: “Children can drown in an inch of water.” Drown?… Drown… Drowning… falling slowly…
    The first thing I heard was shouting. Someone gasping, “Are you all right?”
    I hadn’t drowned! My heart leapt, then sunk rapidly. “Peggy,” I choked out. I sat up. Two people were in front of me, staring down at me, their figures blurred. A mother and a red-headed girl around my age.
    “Who’s Peggy? What? …Are you okay, little girl?” the mother was saying, reaching out to help me up.
    “Don’t!” I said. “Don’t…” I got to my feet by myself. My voice shaking, I said, “Peggy. My little sister Peggy. Where is she?”
    They both stared at me, lips parted in evident confusion. “Oh no!” the mother said, suddenly understanding. “Your sister Peggy was underwater with you, wasn’t she? Oh no! How old is she? Can she swim?”
    I shivered. “No! Neither of us can! She’s only five…” My eyes were stinging and hot, salty water dripped down my face, the kind that wasn’t from the ocean. “We have to find her. She might…”
    They both looked stricken. “I’m sorry, honey,” the mom said gently, “but there isn’t much we can do except call 911 and get the lifeguard.”
    “No! Now! We have to find her now!” Didn’t they understand how quickly someone could drown? “We don’t have time to get the lifeguard! He’s all the way across the beach and… and… why didn’t he see me go under?” I whispered.
    She sighed. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t think anybody saw you… you shouldn’t wander like that…”
I wished she wouldn’t call me “honey”. She was a perfect stranger. “My name is Vicky,” I said clearly. “Vicky McKay.”
    The woman nodded. “Yes. Vicky. Where is your mother, Vicky?”
    “She isn’t here. My brother is watching—my brother! Lewis! Lewis, where are you!” I turned and scanned the beach, but it was only a bunch of unfamiliar faces. That group of five-year-old jerks had disappeared off somewhere, too. “Lewis, you moron, both your sisters almost drowned, didn’t you see—see…” I turned to them miserably. “He’s gone! I don’t see him.”
    “Oh, no,” the woman sighed. “You two stay right here, okay? Do not go anywhere. I’m getting the lifeguard.” She ran off.
    The girl stared at me wide-eyed. I found it very creepy. “Vicky… is your sister going to be okay?”
    “I don’t know! You tell me!” I tried to stop crying. “What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Anne,” she said hesitantly. “Oh, Vicky, I’m sorry.”
    “Be quiet… please.” I knew it was mean, but I couldn’t help it.
    Anne said, “Do you want any chips?”
    “No, thank you,” I mumbled. I wasn’t feeling hungry.
    Anne’s mother ran back with the lifeguard, who promptly dived in and began his search. I waited. Minutes ticked by. He emerged from the waves, wet and empty-handed. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m real sorry,” he added, with genuine sympathy, “but I’ve looked everywhere. If she’s still under, your sister is probably—”
    “Don’t!” I interrupted. “Do not say that!”
    They made some calls, and Anne’s mom said she would take me home. “Look,” she said. “We weren’t able to contact either of your parents. You’d better come with us.”
    Her commanding tone surprised me. “I have to see if they find her…”
    “There’s no use waiting around,” she said in a less hard voice. “Now come along, Vicky.”
    We walked to her house. When I saw it, I jumped in surprise. “What?” said Anne.
    “That’s the haunted house,” I said. “The boys say that ghosts live there. Nobody’s lived there for years and years!”
    Anne’s mother half-laughed. “We just moved in three months ago.”
    “I’ve never seen you,” I said suspiciously, but I went inside anyway. Well, I wasn’t over on this street much anyway, and besides, it was clear the house was lived in. It had obviously been fixed up. Still, it bothered me. I had never seen them…
    I was too anxious and upset about Peggy to dwell on it for too long. Anne’s mother offered me some dry clothes, but I said no thank you, I was quite dry already. It was true, too. It must have been the hot sun.
    Anne and I sat alone in her room. I played with a strand of hair, feeling upset.
    “Sorry about your sister…” Anne said awkwardly.
    “She’s fine! Fine, fine, fine,” I snapped. “She didn’t drown or… or anything. She’s fine. They’re going to find her.”
    Anne looked down. “Okay. Sorry.”
    “You don’t get it,” I said. “You’re an only child, aren’t you?”
    “Yes… but…”
    Suddenly Anne’s mother entered the room frowning. She was on the phone. “Excuse me, Vicky,” she said, “but the police would like to know… what school did your little sister go to?” she asked.
    “She was… she is,” I corrected myself, “she goes to Herring Elementary. She was a preschooler this year, and she’s going into kindergarten in August. She is,” I added, as if nobody had heard this.
    Anne’s mom spoke to the officer. A few minutes later she came back in. “Vicky,” she said seriously, “Peggy doesn’t exist in the Herring School records.”
    I stared in shock. “But… but…”
    “Vicky.” Her voice sharpened. “Listen, they’ve checked records of incoming kindergarteners. They’ve checked the records of the 2005 preschool class. There is no Peggy McKay.” I opened my mouth, but she interrupted. “Listen, Vicky, if you are lying… if this is a joke…”
    “It’s not! Really!” I said desperately.
    “Okay. Okay… Vicky, you were underwater quite long. I don’t know if this is possible, but do you think it is possible that your mind was affected?”
    I flew into a rage. “My mind is not affected! I’m not crazy! Somewhere Peggy is trying to swim in the sea alone, and who knows what might happen, and—all anyone worries about is her records! Is she real? Of course she is real! She’s my little sister! And it isn’t 2005—it’s 2004! July 1, 2004!”
    Both Anne and her mother gaped at me. Something in their eyes made me scared. “Anne,” said her mother quietly, “look after Vicky a moment.”
    As soon as she left, it hit me with a sudden terrible feeling of horror. “Anne, you’re a ghost! That’s why I never saw you! You live in a haunted house,” I almost screamed at her.
    Anne’s face was white. “What—I—you’re crazy, you’re really crazy! It’s July 1—2005!”
    “Ghost!” I screamed at her, and lunged. My hand went right through her neck and we both screamed.
    “MOM!” Anne yelled, terrified.
    I stood, pale and quiet, for just a moment, as the truth dawned on me. Then I ran out of the room, chasing her. Anne wasn’t a ghost; I was. I had been dead for a year. So, every year, I awoke on the first day of July  in the ocean, and dragged the next person down under with me.