ONZ Onzin voor je leven!
Vrolijkheid troef in dit lieve forum vol humor.
Post hier Creepy Pasta. Kort of lang, waargebeurd of niet, zelf meegemaakt of van het internet geplukt. Dat boeit geen reet want dit is een SpaceMouse (nieuw) topic!! 
Ts begint
:
Kinderen die 's nachts in het donker alleen op straat rondlopen hebben een kans om een vrouw tegen te komen met een 'chirurg kapje' op, wat niet zo raar is in Japan, omdat vele dit dragen om zich tegen de ziektes van andere te beschermen.
Als de vrouw de jongen ziet dan zal ze hem stoppen om vervolgens te vragen of ze prachtig is.
Zegt het jongetje 'nee', dan vermoord ze hem met een schaar die ze altijd bij haar draagt. Antwoord het jongetje met 'ja', dan haalt ze de kapje weg en laat ze haar mond zien die gespleten is van oor tot oor.
'En nu dan?' Vraagt de vrouw. Zegt hij dan 'nee', dan vermoord zij hem alsnog. Zegt hij dan toch 'ja', dan spleet zij zijn mond met haar schaar en loopt dan schaterend weg...
Game on!!
Ts begint
:Kinderen die 's nachts in het donker alleen op straat rondlopen hebben een kans om een vrouw tegen te komen met een 'chirurg kapje' op, wat niet zo raar is in Japan, omdat vele dit dragen om zich tegen de ziektes van andere te beschermen.
Als de vrouw de jongen ziet dan zal ze hem stoppen om vervolgens te vragen of ze prachtig is.
Zegt het jongetje 'nee', dan vermoord ze hem met een schaar die ze altijd bij haar draagt. Antwoord het jongetje met 'ja', dan haalt ze de kapje weg en laat ze haar mond zien die gespleten is van oor tot oor.
'En nu dan?' Vraagt de vrouw. Zegt hij dan 'nee', dan vermoord zij hem alsnog. Zegt hij dan toch 'ja', dan spleet zij zijn mond met haar schaar en loopt dan schaterend weg...
Game on!!
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Neger wat?
Op donderdag 15 januari 2015 19:01 schreef Maanvis het volgende:
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
Children walking alone at night may encounter aquote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:51 schreef Verbodsbord het volgende:
Post het dan in het Engels, dat het misschien nog creepy klinkt
woman wearing a surgical mask, this is not an
unusual sight in Japan as people wear them to
protect others from their colds or sickness. The
woman will stop the child and ask, ‘Am I
beautiful?’. If the child answers no, they are
killed with a pair of scissors which the woman
carries. If they answer yes, the woman pulls
away the mask, revealing her mouth is slit from
ear to ear and asks ‘How about now?’. If the
child answers no, he will be cut in half. If he
answers yes, then she will slit his mouth like
hers.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Hmm hij is nog steeds een beetje matigquote:
[..]
Children walking alone at night may encounter a
woman wearing a surgical mask, this is not an
unusual sight in Japan as people wear them to
protect others from their colds or sickness. The
woman will stop the child and ask, ‘Am I
beautiful?’. If the child answers no, they are
killed with a pair of scissors which the woman
carries. If they answer yes, the woman pulls
away the mask, revealing her mouth is slit from
ear to ear and asks ‘How about now?’. If the
child answers no, he will be cut in half. If he
answers yes, then she will slit his mouth like
hers.
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/
Hier staat wel redelijk wat.
Post er is een paar danquote:
[..]
Hmm hij is nog steeds een beetje matig
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/
Hier staat wel redelijk wat.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ik liep een keer langs de waterkant en zag een zombie maar het bleek TS te zijn haha naderhand dronken we bier, olifant snuit enzo.
Op donderdag 15 januari 2015 19:01 schreef Maanvis het volgende:
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
Smegquote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:57 schreef smegmanus het volgende:
Ik liep een keer langs de waterkant en zag een zombie maar het bleek TS te zijn haha naderhand dronken we bier, olifant snuit enzo.
Ik stikte in mijn bami 
Je moet ook niet op maandag bami eten.quote:
Op
Op donderdag 15 januari 2015 19:01 schreef Maanvis het volgende:
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
smegmanus is de as van het kwaad. een verbrand stukje Hitler.
Eens.quote:
[..]
Je moet ook niet op maandag bami eten.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Snap geen hol van dit topic maar zo te zien gaat het er dus om dat je enge verhalen schrijft? Ik waag een poging.
Laatst gedate met een vriendin. Haar zusje en haar vriend waren er ook. We gingen gezellig op stap met zijn vieren naar de kermis. Daarna gingen we nog wat drinken bij een ierse pub. Het vriendje van dat zusje moest al eerder weg omdat hij morgenvroeg moest werken. Al met al was het een gemoedelijke avond.
Toen we eenmaal thuis waren aangekomen bij het ouderlijk huis van die vriendin en haar zusje sloeg ik ze beiden bewusteloos. Vervolgens bond ik ze beiden vast aan een kachel. Toen ze eenmaal bijkwamen heb ik de kachel loeiheet aangezet en schreeuwden ze van de pijn. Op dat moment kwamen net hun ouders thuis. Ik verstop me terwijl de ouders verbaast en paniekerig toekijken hoe hun jong grut pijn lijden. Intussen heb ik een keukenmes bemachtigd en snij de keel van de vader door. Vervolgens grijp ik naar de moeder en snij haar buik helemaal open, trek haar organen eruit en strooi zout in haar lichaam. Dan pak ik de mobiele telefoon van haar zusje en bel haar vriendje op. Even later arriveert haar vriendje en sla hem bewusteloos en bindt hem vast. Als hij bijkomt is hij helemaal geblinddoekt. Ik trek hem af en als hij klaarkomt stop ik zijn zaad in het kutje van zowel het zusje, de vriendin als de moeder en de mond van de vader. Dan sla ik hem weer bewusteloos, verwijder hem van zijn boeien en doe zijn kleren uit. Ik laat het gas open, laat een brandende kaars staan en smeer hem. Als de brandweer en politie eenmaal arriveert dan wordt dat vriendje opgepakt en levenslang de cel ingegooid.
Zoiets?
Laatst gedate met een vriendin. Haar zusje en haar vriend waren er ook. We gingen gezellig op stap met zijn vieren naar de kermis. Daarna gingen we nog wat drinken bij een ierse pub. Het vriendje van dat zusje moest al eerder weg omdat hij morgenvroeg moest werken. Al met al was het een gemoedelijke avond.
Toen we eenmaal thuis waren aangekomen bij het ouderlijk huis van die vriendin en haar zusje sloeg ik ze beiden bewusteloos. Vervolgens bond ik ze beiden vast aan een kachel. Toen ze eenmaal bijkwamen heb ik de kachel loeiheet aangezet en schreeuwden ze van de pijn. Op dat moment kwamen net hun ouders thuis. Ik verstop me terwijl de ouders verbaast en paniekerig toekijken hoe hun jong grut pijn lijden. Intussen heb ik een keukenmes bemachtigd en snij de keel van de vader door. Vervolgens grijp ik naar de moeder en snij haar buik helemaal open, trek haar organen eruit en strooi zout in haar lichaam. Dan pak ik de mobiele telefoon van haar zusje en bel haar vriendje op. Even later arriveert haar vriendje en sla hem bewusteloos en bindt hem vast. Als hij bijkomt is hij helemaal geblinddoekt. Ik trek hem af en als hij klaarkomt stop ik zijn zaad in het kutje van zowel het zusje, de vriendin als de moeder en de mond van de vader. Dan sla ik hem weer bewusteloos, verwijder hem van zijn boeien en doe zijn kleren uit. Ik laat het gas open, laat een brandende kaars staan en smeer hem. Als de brandweer en politie eenmaal arriveert dan wordt dat vriendje opgepakt en levenslang de cel ingegooid.
Zoiets?
Even serieus mensen
Hier nog een, zeker de moeite waard om te lezen.
It was a cold wednesday morning; the air was
damp and it looked like it would rain. Janine was
on her way to the bus stop, she was running a
bit late and scared that she'd miss her ride to
the university.
"Drat!" she shouted as she saw the bus take off
from a distance. "What will I do now.." she
muttered to herself.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, she heard a
voice call out to her, "Why hello there!"
She turned abruptly, looking at the unfamiliar
man. "Er, hello."
"Why are you out so early?" the man questioned
her, approaching her rather quickly.
"I just missed my bus to Uni," she replied,
cocking a brow. "What are you doing out so
early?"
"My dog got out last night," he said with a
solemn look on his face, "I'm out looking for it
now.
Janine, being the animal lover she is, felt her
heart drop to her gut "Let me help you find it!"
The man extended a hand to her. "The name is
James, it's a pleasure to meet you."
She took his hand. "I'm Janine."
James pointed off towards the woods nearby.
"The tracks lead out that way. The dog is
partially deaf, so calling out wont do any good."
The two made their way into the wood. Janine
didn't see any tracks at first but she started to
notice some in the mud. The paw marks were
large, it must have been a big dog.
The dog was spotted a few meters ahead. James
turned to Janine and gave her instructions,
"He's friendly with strangers. He'll expect a
leash and the kennel if he spots me. I'll sneak up
and grab him, just keep him distracted." Janine
approached the dog slowly, he was panting with
his tongue hanging out. 'What a big doof,' she
thought to herself when suddenly everything
went dark. James had come up behind her with a
burlap sack over her head. She viciously
grasped at her neck, trying to break free when
she felt it. A needle had been injected in her.
She slowly stopped moving.
Hours later she awoke, she was tied down in a
dark room. The only light came from a red bulb
dangling a few feet above her. The table she was
restrained to was at a 90 degree angle, she saw
James walking back and forth in the room.
"You did well, James." a feminine voice called
out.
"I'm glad I've pleased you, mistress." James said
back, kneeling down as she came down the
stairs.
"Well, what a beauty you are." the woman
snickered to Janine.
Janine tried to scream, but she was gagged. She
was frantic, trying to break free from her
restraints.
"Now, now. That wont get you anywhere,
darling." the woman replied, piercing Janine in
the shoulderblade with a small knife.
Janine was starting to black out, and the woman
spoke the last thing Janine would ever hear:
"I hope you're as tasty as you're pretty.
Hier nog een, zeker de moeite waard om te lezen.
It was a cold wednesday morning; the air was
damp and it looked like it would rain. Janine was
on her way to the bus stop, she was running a
bit late and scared that she'd miss her ride to
the university.
"Drat!" she shouted as she saw the bus take off
from a distance. "What will I do now.." she
muttered to herself.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, she heard a
voice call out to her, "Why hello there!"
She turned abruptly, looking at the unfamiliar
man. "Er, hello."
"Why are you out so early?" the man questioned
her, approaching her rather quickly.
"I just missed my bus to Uni," she replied,
cocking a brow. "What are you doing out so
early?"
"My dog got out last night," he said with a
solemn look on his face, "I'm out looking for it
now.
Janine, being the animal lover she is, felt her
heart drop to her gut "Let me help you find it!"
The man extended a hand to her. "The name is
James, it's a pleasure to meet you."
She took his hand. "I'm Janine."
James pointed off towards the woods nearby.
"The tracks lead out that way. The dog is
partially deaf, so calling out wont do any good."
The two made their way into the wood. Janine
didn't see any tracks at first but she started to
notice some in the mud. The paw marks were
large, it must have been a big dog.
The dog was spotted a few meters ahead. James
turned to Janine and gave her instructions,
"He's friendly with strangers. He'll expect a
leash and the kennel if he spots me. I'll sneak up
and grab him, just keep him distracted." Janine
approached the dog slowly, he was panting with
his tongue hanging out. 'What a big doof,' she
thought to herself when suddenly everything
went dark. James had come up behind her with a
burlap sack over her head. She viciously
grasped at her neck, trying to break free when
she felt it. A needle had been injected in her.
She slowly stopped moving.
Hours later she awoke, she was tied down in a
dark room. The only light came from a red bulb
dangling a few feet above her. The table she was
restrained to was at a 90 degree angle, she saw
James walking back and forth in the room.
"You did well, James." a feminine voice called
out.
"I'm glad I've pleased you, mistress." James said
back, kneeling down as she came down the
stairs.
"Well, what a beauty you are." the woman
snickered to Janine.
Janine tried to scream, but she was gagged. She
was frantic, trying to break free from her
restraints.
"Now, now. That wont get you anywhere,
darling." the woman replied, piercing Janine in
the shoulderblade with a small knife.
Janine was starting to black out, and the woman
spoke the last thing Janine would ever hear:
"I hope you're as tasty as you're pretty.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ik begrijp er uit dat je rare gebeurtenissen en verhalen die je op het internet gehoord hebt/mee gemaakt deelt hier?
Oh....quote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:18 schreef LolaLovesYou het volgende:
Ik begrijp er uit dat je rare gebeurtenissen en verhalen die je op het internet gehoord hebt/mee gemaakt deelt hier?
Heb je hem afgetrokken? Homoquote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:06 schreef MonteCristo het volgende:
Laatst gedate met een vriendin. Haar zusje en haar vriend waren er ook. We gingen gezellig op stap met zijn vieren naar de kermis. Daarna gingen we nog wat drinken bij een ierse pub. Het vriendje van dat zusje moest al eerder weg omdat hij morgenvroeg moest werken. Al met al was het een gemoedelijke avond.
Toen we eenmaal thuis waren aangekomen bij het ouderlijk huis van die vriendin en haar zusje sloeg ik ze beiden bewusteloos. Vervolgens bond ik ze beiden vast aan een kachel. Toen ze eenmaal bijkwamen heb ik de kachel loeiheet aangezet en schreeuwden ze van de pijn. Op dat moment kwamen net hun ouders thuis. Ik verstop me terwijl de ouders verbaast en paniekerig toekijken hoe hun jong grut pijn lijden. Intussen heb ik een keukenmes bemachtigd en snij de keel van de vader door. Vervolgens grijp ik naar de moeder en snij haar buik helemaal open, trek haar organen eruit en strooi zout in haar lichaam. Dan pak ik de mobiele telefoon van haar zusje en bel haar vriendje op. Even later arriveert haar vriendje en sla hem bewusteloos en bindt hem vast. Als hij bijkomt is hij helemaal geblinddoekt. Ik trek hem af en als hij klaarkomt stop ik zijn zaad in het kutje van zowel het zusje, de vriendin als de moeder en de mond van de vader. Dan sla ik hem weer bewusteloos, verwijder hem van zijn boeien en doe zijn kleren uit. Ik laat het gas open, laat een brandende kaars staan en smeer hem. Als de brandweer en politie eenmaal arriveert dan wordt dat vriendje opgepakt en levenslang de cel ingegooid.
Zoiets?
quote:
Ik verzin maar wat ter plekke hoor, maar inderdaad. * Dat kan echt niet!*
[ Bericht 11% gewijzigd door MonteCristo op 10-10-2011 19:25:53 ]
quote:
Ik begrijp er uit dat je rare gebeurtenissen en verhalen die je op het internet gehoord hebt/mee gemaakt deelt hier?
Even creepy pasta googlen is te moeilijk?
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Doe hier eens fatsoenlijke enters en alinea's in dan lees ik het wel.quote:
Even serieus mensen
Hier nog een, zeker de moeite waard om te lezen.
It was a cold wednesday morning; the air was
damp and it looked like it would rain. Janine was
on her way to the bus stop, she was running a
bit late and scared that she'd miss her ride to
the university.
"Drat!" she shouted as she saw the bus take off
from a distance. "What will I do now.." she
muttered to herself.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, she heard a
voice call out to her, "Why hello there!"
She turned abruptly, looking at the unfamiliar
man. "Er, hello."
"Why are you out so early?" the man questioned
her, approaching her rather quickly.
"I just missed my bus to Uni," she replied,
cocking a brow. "What are you doing out so
early?"
"My dog got out last night," he said with a
solemn look on his face, "I'm out looking for it
now.
Janine, being the animal lover she is, felt her
heart drop to her gut "Let me help you find it!"
The man extended a hand to her. "The name is
James, it's a pleasure to meet you."
She took his hand. "I'm Janine."
James pointed off towards the woods nearby.
"The tracks lead out that way. The dog is
partially deaf, so calling out wont do any good."
The two made their way into the wood. Janine
didn't see any tracks at first but she started to
notice some in the mud. The paw marks were
large, it must have been a big dog.
The dog was spotted a few meters ahead. James
turned to Janine and gave her instructions,
"He's friendly with strangers. He'll expect a
leash and the kennel if he spots me. I'll sneak up
and grab him, just keep him distracted." Janine
approached the dog slowly, he was panting with
his tongue hanging out. 'What a big doof,' she
thought to herself when suddenly everything
went dark. James had come up behind her with a
burlap sack over her head. She viciously
grasped at her neck, trying to break free when
she felt it. A needle had been injected in her.
She slowly stopped moving.
Hours later she awoke, she was tied down in a
dark room. The only light came from a red bulb
dangling a few feet above her. The table she was
restrained to was at a 90 degree angle, she saw
James walking back and forth in the room.
"You did well, James." a feminine voice called
out.
"I'm glad I've pleased you, mistress." James said
back, kneeling down as she came down the
stairs.
"Well, what a beauty you are." the woman
snickered to Janine.
Janine tried to scream, but she was gagged. She
was frantic, trying to break free from her
restraints.
"Now, now. That wont get you anywhere,
darling." the woman replied, piercing Janine in
the shoulderblade with a small knife.
Janine was starting to black out, and the woman
spoke the last thing Janine would ever hear:
"I hope you're as tasty as you're pretty.
O, verhalen dat wist ik niet sorry sorry sorry.
Ik waag een poging
Ik zat op mijn computer. Het was 01:00 uur. *Ping* een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail.
''Kijk uit je raam.'' stond er. Ik keek uit mijn raam.
Ik schrok van wat ik zag, een man in slonzige kleding met een raar, afgeragd konijnenmasker op. Er lag een groot mes naast zich en hij zat op een telefoon druk te tikken.
*Ping*, weer een e-mail. ''Ik maak beneden even een snack, ik hoop dat je dat niet erg vind?''
Ik schrok, en ging weer naar mijn raam. De man zat er niet meer. Ik hoorde geluid beneden.
*ping* wéér een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail met trandende ogen. ''Ik zie jou nu. Maar jij mij niet
''
Ik schrok en keek overal in mijn kamer. Onder het bed, onder het kozijn, achter de tv, maar ik zag niks. Net toen ik in mijn kast wilde kijken, hoorde ik een luide schreeuw en een pijn in mijn borst. Ik keek naar beneden en een groot mes zag ik door mijn borst heen zitten......
Ik waag een poging
Ik zat op mijn computer. Het was 01:00 uur. *Ping* een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail.
''Kijk uit je raam.'' stond er. Ik keek uit mijn raam.
Ik schrok van wat ik zag, een man in slonzige kleding met een raar, afgeragd konijnenmasker op. Er lag een groot mes naast zich en hij zat op een telefoon druk te tikken.
*Ping*, weer een e-mail. ''Ik maak beneden even een snack, ik hoop dat je dat niet erg vind?''
Ik schrok, en ging weer naar mijn raam. De man zat er niet meer. Ik hoorde geluid beneden.
*ping* wéér een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail met trandende ogen. ''Ik zie jou nu. Maar jij mij niet
''Ik schrok en keek overal in mijn kamer. Onder het bed, onder het kozijn, achter de tv, maar ik zag niks. Net toen ik in mijn kast wilde kijken, hoorde ik een luide schreeuw en een pijn in mijn borst. Ik keek naar beneden en een groot mes zag ik door mijn borst heen zitten......
Pogo dancing!
Bravo!! Brava!!quote:
O, verhalen dat wist ik niet sorry sorry sorry.
Ik waag een poging
Ik zat op mijn computer. Het was 01:00 uur. *Ping* een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail.
''Kijk uit je raam.'' stond er. Ik keek uit mijn raam.
Ik schrok van wat ik zag, een man in slonzige kleding met een raar, afgeragd konijnenmasker op. Er lag een groot mes naast zich en hij zat op een telefoon druk te tikken.
*Ping*, weer een e-mail. ''Ik maak beneden even een snack, ik hoop dat je dat niet erg vind?''
Ik schrok, en ging weer naar mijn raam. De man zat er niet meer. Ik hoorde geluid beneden.
*ping* wéér een e-mail. Ik las de e-mail met trandende ogen. ''Ik zie jou nu. Maar jij mij niet
Ik schrok en keek overal in mijn kamer. Onder het bed, onder het kozijn, achter de tv, maar ik zag niks. Net toen ik in mijn kast wilde kijken, hoorde ik een luide schreeuw en een pijn in mijn borst. Ik keek naar beneden en een groot mes zag ik door mijn borst heen zitten......
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Vind je het echt goed? Zo ja, Danku, mijn eerste verhaal meteen een succesquote:
Maar ik ga nu skaten dus ik lees jullie verhaaltjes straks wel
Pogo dancing!
Hij is zeker goed, mijn complimenten.quote:
[..]
Vind je het echt goed? Zo ja, Danku, mijn eerste verhaal meteen een succes
Maar ik ga nu skaten dus ik lees jullie verhaaltjes straks wel
Maar er word niet actief meegedaan helaas
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…
Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.
Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.
You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.
Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.
Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.
You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.
Die is vetquote:
Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…
Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.
Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.
You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.
!!!Ik post er zo weer een.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Hehe, vettequote:
Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…
Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.
Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.
You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows.
Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about
it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more
fully. You can barely make out your daughter's
pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not
sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about
the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat
up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take
your eyes off of your daughter. The covers
behind you begin to shift.
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows.
Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about
it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more
fully. You can barely make out your daughter's
pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not
sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about
the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat
up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take
your eyes off of your daughter. The covers
behind you begin to shift.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Nog een goede.
There was a couple from Texas who was
planning a weekend trip across the Mexican
border for a shopping spree. At the last minute,
their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring
along their two year old son with them. They had
been across the border for an hour when the boy
got free and ran around the corner. The mother
tried to find him, but he was missing. The
mother found a police officer who told her to go
to the gate and wait. Not really understanding
the instructions, she did as she was told.
About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man
approached the border, carrying the boy. The
mother ran to him, grateful that he had been
found. When the man realized it was the boy's
mother, he dropped him and ran. The police
were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in
the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut
open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with
bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him
across the border as if he were asleep
There was a couple from Texas who was
planning a weekend trip across the Mexican
border for a shopping spree. At the last minute,
their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring
along their two year old son with them. They had
been across the border for an hour when the boy
got free and ran around the corner. The mother
tried to find him, but he was missing. The
mother found a police officer who told her to go
to the gate and wait. Not really understanding
the instructions, she did as she was told.
About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man
approached the border, carrying the boy. The
mother ran to him, grateful that he had been
found. When the man realized it was the boy's
mother, he dropped him and ran. The police
were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in
the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut
open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with
bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him
across the border as if he were asleep
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Beste die ik gelezen hebt.
You are home alone, and you hear on the news
about the profile of a murderer who is on the
loose.
You look out the sliding glass doors to your
backyard, and you notice a man standing out in
the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer
exactly, and he is smiling at you.
You gulp, picking up the phone to your right
and dialing 911.
You look back out the glass as you press the
phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer
to you now.
You then drop the phone in shock.
There are no footprints in the snow.
It's his reflection.
You are home alone, and you hear on the news
about the profile of a murderer who is on the
loose.
You look out the sliding glass doors to your
backyard, and you notice a man standing out in
the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer
exactly, and he is smiling at you.
You gulp, picking up the phone to your right
and dialing 911.
You look back out the glass as you press the
phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer
to you now.
You then drop the phone in shock.
There are no footprints in the snow.
It's his reflection.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Hallo, ik ben vanuit de toekomst!
Hoe kan dat? Zul je denken? Door de deeltjesversneler die is gemaakt door een atoom die sneller dan het licht ging.
Gaat iemand dit van jou horen, dan zal je helaas geëxecuteerd worden vanuit de toekomst, in jouw tijd bekent als een hartaanval.
Het gaat hier niet om, ik heb een dringende boodschap, maar ik kan hem niet vertellen, het enige dat ik je zou willen meegeven is het volgende.
Lees allee eerste woorden van de alineas en beantwoord de vraag, snel!!
Hoe kan dat? Zul je denken? Door de deeltjesversneler die is gemaakt door een atoom die sneller dan het licht ging.
Gaat iemand dit van jou horen, dan zal je helaas geëxecuteerd worden vanuit de toekomst, in jouw tijd bekent als een hartaanval.
Het gaat hier niet om, ik heb een dringende boodschap, maar ik kan hem niet vertellen, het enige dat ik je zou willen meegeven is het volgende.
Lees allee eerste woorden van de alineas en beantwoord de vraag, snel!!
IFG
Mijn favoriet
Red Eyes
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.
The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.
This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.
At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, “Did you look through the keyhole?” The man told her that he had and she said, “Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.”
Red Eyes
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.
The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.
This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.
At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, “Did you look through the keyhole?” The man told her that he had and she said, “Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.”
Deze is inderdaad erg goed.quote:
Beste die ik gelezen hebt.
You are home alone, and you hear on the news
about the profile of a murderer who is on the
loose.
You look out the sliding glass doors to your
backyard, and you notice a man standing out in
the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer
exactly, and he is smiling at you.
You gulp, picking up the phone to your right
and dialing 911.
You look back out the glass as you press the
phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer
to you now.
You then drop the phone in shock.
There are no footprints in the snow.
It's his reflection.
Deze ook.quote:
Mijn favoriet
Red Eyes
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.
The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.
This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.
At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, “Did you look through the keyhole?” The man told her that he had and she said, “Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.”
Al zou het ook leuk zijn als mensen creepy plaatjes mochten posten. Dan hebben de mensen die niet echt veel fantasie hebben ook wat te doen behalve lezen
Pogo dancing!
Hoe post je plaatjes via mobiel?quote:
Al zou het ook leuk zijn als mensen creepy plaatjes mochten posten. Dan hebben de mensen die niet echt veel fantasie hebben ook wat te doen behalve lezen
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Mag dat niet dan?quote:
Al zou het ook leuk zijn als mensen creepy plaatjes mochten posten. Dan hebben de mensen die niet echt veel fantasie hebben ook wat te doen behalve lezen
Volgens mij gewoon een plaatje downloaden en dan uploaden naar een upload site? Ik weet niet echt heb er geen verstand van.quote:
[..]
Hoe post je plaatjes via mobiel?
Creepypasta is toch alleen maar verhalen?quote:
Pogo dancing!
Verhalen plus afbeelding van het verhaal. Dan is het pas creepy.quote:
[..]
Volgens mij gewoon een plaatje downloaden en dan uploaden naar een upload site? Ik weet niet echt heb er geen verstand van.
[..]
Creepypasta is toch alleen maar verhalen?
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ja dat is wel een goeie combinatiequote:
[..]
Verhalen plus afbeelding van het verhaal. Dan is het pas creepy.
Al ben ik niet zo goed in verhaaltjes ik ben meer van de plaatjes Ik vind plaatjes ook vaak meer creepy, vooral van die verlaten gekkenhuizen enzo. Enuh.. jij bent de TS, dus sta jij het gebruik van afbeeldingen toe?
Pogo dancing!
Tuurlijk, alles om deze topic in leven te houdenquote:
[..]
Ja dat is wel een goeie combinatie
Op z'n flamingos. :7
JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJ~!quote:
[..]
Tuurlijk, alles om deze topic in leven te houden
Pogo dancing!
Ik las net iets over een of andere site genaamd ''mortis.com'' het gerucht gaat dat als je daar bestanden download dat je dan dood gaat ofzo. Ik ben goedgelovig dus ik durf niet te kijken
Pogo dancing!
Je hebt een wachtwoord nodig om op die site te kunnen.quote:
Ik las net iets over een of andere site genaamd ''mortis.com'' het gerucht gaat dat als je daar bestanden download dat je dan dood gaat ofzo. Ik ben goedgelovig dus ik durf niet te kijken
In mijn volgende post, een verhaal van totaal 25 afbeeldingen.
/x/
Ja, 4chan, ik weet pedo blabla maar ik zit niet op /b/ alleen op /x/ (paranormal) sommige dingen daar zijn best creepy.
Pogo dancing!
quote:
[..]
Je hebt een wachtwoord nodig om op die site te kunnen.
In mijn volgende post, een verhaal van totaal 25 afbeeldingen.
Zo is dat.
Wat is deze?quote:
[ afbeelding ]
/x/
Ja, 4chan, ik weet pedo blabla maar ik zit niet op /b/ alleen op /x/ (paranormal) sommige dingen daar zijn best creepy.
Eng, wel.
Zo is dat.
Ik vind het zo kut als je op een site met creepy dingen een plaatje ziet wat er redelijk eng uitziet maar die is dan erg klein in de thumbnail en als je er dan op klikt dat het plaatje heel langzaam laad en beetje bij beetje zichtbaar word.
Pogo dancing!
Of van die kutfilmpjes waar je naar iets moet staren en dan uit het niets een eng gezicht tevoorschijn komt met een gil.quote:
Ik vind het zo kut als je op een site met creepy dingen een plaatje ziet wat er redelijk eng uitziet maar die is dan erg klein in de thumbnail en als je er dan op klikt dat het plaatje heel langzaam laad en beetje bij beetje zichtbaar word.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ja super hatelijk dat.quote:
[..]
Of van die kutfilmpjes waar je naar iets moet staren en dan uit het niets een eng gezicht tevoorschijn komt met een gil.
Zo is dat.
Oooow die zijn zo kut ja. Als ik ook maar een vermoeden heb dat het een pop-up is dan lees ik eerst de comments.quote:
[..]
Of van die kutfilmpjes waar je naar iets moet staren en dan uit het niets een eng gezicht tevoorschijn komt met een gil.
Oja mensen doe dus geen schrik dingen mischien zijner mensen met een zwak hart die dit bekijken.
Pogo dancing!
Dit. Ook al worden ze nu juist gepost, omdat FOK!.quote:
[..]
Oooow die zijn zo kut ja. Als ik ook maar een vermoeden heb dat het een pop-up is dan lees ik eerst de comments.
Oja mensen doe dus geen schrik dingen mischien zijner mensen met een zwak hart die dit bekijken.
Zo is dat.
Jaweeeeeeell!!quote:
[..]
Oooow die zijn zo kut ja. Als ik ook maar een vermoeden heb dat het een pop-up is dan lees ik eerst de comments.
Oja mensen doe dus geen schrik dingen mischien zijner mensen met een zwak hart die dit bekijken.
Zet ze maar in spoiler ofzo
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Oja met een waarschuwing dat is een goei!quote:
[..]
Jaweeeeeeell!!
Zet ze maar in spoiler ofzo
Pogo dancing!
Een serieuze dan, neem de tijd deze te lezen, zo vet: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Russian_Sleep_Experiment
With bloody fists I'll batter like a ten ton hammer, son.
Oh die ken ik. De moeite waard om te lezen. Alleen ongelofelijk onhumaan wat ze met ze doen.quote:
[ afbeelding ]
Een serieuze dan, neem de tijd deze te lezen, zo vet: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Russian_Sleep_Experiment
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Was op 2/5 en had geen zin meer. Samenvatting in spoiler of zo?quote:
[ afbeelding ]
Een serieuze dan, neem de tijd deze te lezen, zo vet: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Russian_Sleep_Experiment
Zo is dat.
Ik kreeg tranen in mijn ogen door dat dagboek. Normaal kan ik heel goed tegen dit soort dingen maar deze, wow, ik hoop dat dit nep is serieus.
Pogo dancing!
Ik heb expres die opgehangen baby's niet gepost kom jij er mee aanzetten.
Maarja dan kan deze er ook wel bij:
Maarja dan kan deze er ook wel bij:
Ik vind dat soort zwart wit foto's altijd creepy. Maar waarom heb je die baby's niet gepost dan? Zit jij trouwens ook op /x/?quote:
Ik heb expres die opgehangen baby's niet gepost kom jij er mee aanzetten.
Maarja dan kan deze er ook wel bij:
[ afbeelding ]
Pogo dancing!
Vond ik een beetje té als het eigenlijk om de verhalen gaat. Ja ik zit op /x/.quote:
[..]
Ik vind dat soort zwart wit foto's altijd creepy. Maar waarom heb je die baby's niet gepost dan? Zit jij trouwens ook op /x/?
Ja ok. Maar van de TS mogen plaatjes ook dus ik doe ook me bestquote:
[..]
Vond ik een beetje té als het eigenlijk om de verhalen gaat. Ja ik zit op /x/.
En dankzij dat dagboek ga ik niet meer slapen. Zó zielig
Pogo dancing!
Bedtijd?quote:
Ik ga nu over op mobiel dus ik post geen plaatjens meer.
Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.quote:
Ik heb dat dagboek gelezen maar ik snap het niet helemaal, kan iemand het uitleggen? *blond*
Nieuw plaatje:
Kijk een post hoger, tekst met plaatje.quote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:52 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:
Zonder verhaal of tekst doen die plaatjes mij niks eigenlijk..
Ik FOK! mobiel, kan tekst niet lezen, sorry.quote:
[..]
Kijk een post hoger, tekst met plaatje.
Jaja bedtijd ja.
Zo is dat.
Tevens, wat moeten die dode kinderen dan voorstellen? Kan ook zijn dat ik het niet begrijp.
Zo is dat.
Gewoon opgehangen kinderen. Het idee dat iemand kinderen ophangt hoort als ziek en eng over te komen.quote:Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:56 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:
Tevens, wat moeten die dode kinderen dan voorstellen? Kan ook zijn dat ik het niet begrijp.
Ik vind het alleen ziek dat die kinderen hier voor geposeerd hebben.quote:
[..]
Gewoon opgehangen kinderen. Het idee dat iemand kinderen ophangt hoort als ziek en eng over te komen.
Btw is dat idee natuurlijk eng, maar verhalen vind ik angstaanjagender.
Zo is dat.
nee ik ga nu ff tv kijken om dat dagboek uit mn hoofd te krijgen. Met voorsprong de beste bijdrage aan dit topic!quote:
[..]
Bedtijd?
[..]
Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.
Nieuw plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]
Pogo dancing!
Ja ik snapt dat ze een boek gelezen had maar wat voor boek dan? Nogal vaag. Vind het op zich een vet verhaal, maar over dat boekquote:
[..]
Bedtijd?
[..]
Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.
En dat I know I know
Dat dingentje met the wanderer ga ik vanmiddag maar kijken denk ik. Ik ben bang geworden voor jouw posts
Pogo dancing!
Er was ergens in de jaren 20 een man met de achternaam Rasper. Hij heeft mensen op verschrikkelijke wijze vermoord, een van de detectives heeft na onderzoek omschreven hoe hij dat gedaan heeft en hoe de lijken eruit zagen. Er zijn daar een stuk of 6 kopieën van gemaakt, genaamd Raspers book.quote:
[..]
Ja ik snapt dat ze een boek gelezen had maar wat voor boek dan? Nogal vaag. Vind het op zich een vet verhaal, maar over dat boek
Hij begon erg vet, jammer dat het zo snel was afgelopen.quote:
Dat dagboek is zo vet hè.
Ook een aanrader: http://www.creepypasta.com/candle-cove/
Is er nog wat te zien op die foto?quote:
[..]
Bedtijd?
[..]
Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.
Nieuw plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]
Voor sommige mensen wel.quote:
[..]
Is er nog wat te zien op die foto?
wtf weird shit nigger. Morgen ff kiekenquote:
[..]
Sommige mensen zien the wanderer wel, andere niet.
Pogo dancing!
Danku! Ik heb nog even gegoogled en het is toch best wel creepy!quote:
[..]
Er was ergens in de jaren 20 een man met de achternaam Rasper. Hij heeft mensen op verschrikkelijke wijze vermoord, een van de detectives heeft na onderzoek omschreven hoe hij dat gedaan heeft en hoe de lijken eruit zagen. Er zijn daar een stuk of 6 kopieën van gemaakt, genaamd Raspers book.
Nice!quote:
Dit is ook een goede, tekst met plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]
Fuck. Die foto.quote:
Dit is ook een goede, tekst met plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]
Nu ben ik bang
en ik keek stiekem naar het plafond haha.
The Tounge
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.
She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.
She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
Omgquote:
The Tounge
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.
She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".
Zo is dat.
The Clown
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage).
So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was okay, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the large clown doll outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown doll."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown doll was ever found.
[ Bericht 0% gewijzigd door Phenom4Ever op 10-10-2011 23:51:58 ]
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage).
So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was okay, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the large clown doll outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown doll."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown doll was ever found.
[ Bericht 0% gewijzigd door Phenom4Ever op 10-10-2011 23:51:58 ]
OMG!quote:
The Clown
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage).
So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was okay, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the large clown doll outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown doll."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown statue was ever found.
Zo is dat.
Nog eentje voor het slapen gaan.
The Portrait
There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.
Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.
The Portrait
There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.
Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.
Deze was iets minder, maar nog steeds heel eng. Thanks, ik slaap het komende uur niet.quote:
Nog eentje voor het slapen gaan.
The Portrait
There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.
Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.
Zo is dat.
Deze is al behoorlijk oud. Kan me herrineren dat ik deze jaren geleden in een broodje aap verhalen boek las. Maar blijft een goede!quote:
The Clown
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn't want children watching too much garbage).
So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was okay, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the large clown doll outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown doll."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown doll was ever found.
Still no messages on my phone.
I guess he wasn’t going to call me back after all. I can’t really blame him, maybe I came on a bit too fast yesterday.
I had noticed him long before he noticed me. His shiny black hair and unnatural blue eyes. I wasn’t the only one watching him, that’s for sure. His movements were elegant in a boyish way. And his smile…his smile.
I would die for that smile.
Still no messages…
I thought about calling him, maybe apologize for going too fast yesterday. I’m a coward, I know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dial his number.
Besides he’d promised he’d contact me when he’s ready.
So I’ll wait. I’m patient.
I know, I’ll just casually stroll past his house. Just to see if he’s home. Maybe he’s out, that would explain why he couldn’t call me yet.
He only lives half an hour away anyway. Maybe he’s shy and is scared to call me. Silly boy. I’ll go to him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be scared. That I don’t mind if he needs time.
He lives pretty secluded in a farm on the outskirts of town. I can hear the sheep in the stables as I approach. My heart skips when I see there are lights burning inside. He must be there, he told me yesterday his parents would be gone for the weekend. They left him to look after the sheep for those days. Poor baby, that must be hard work. He was probably just too busy to call me. I’ll have to stay here until his parents come back and help him take care of all those sheep. I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he fell asleep. The thought of his beautiful face even more softened by sleep makes me smile. I try the door, it’s unlocked. There’s hardly any crime around here, so I guess locking the door is not needed. I try to be as quiet as possible as I sneak through the house. I want to surprise him. I cringe at every creak the stairs make as I climb them.
Finally I’ve reached the bedroom and I carefully open the door.
There he is, lying in bed as I thought. Quietly I switch on the nightlight on his desk so I can see his face.
His blue eyes are open, staring into space and his whole face is one bloody mess. His cheeks have been carved, the skin mostly removed and hanging loose on the sides of his face. He’s missing his fingernails, they are laid out on the bed carefully arranged. On his bare chest words are carved.
I look at him, my hands covering my mouth.
He’s still the same as I left him yesterday. He must have been so tired that he slept all day. How cute!
I softly kiss his forehead, making sure I don’t wake him. Then I write another message below the one on his chest, letting him know I’m here when he needs me.
I leave the room, heading back outside. I think it’s time for the sheep to go to sleep.
And tomorrow I’ll introduce myself to his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me too.
I guess he wasn’t going to call me back after all. I can’t really blame him, maybe I came on a bit too fast yesterday.
I had noticed him long before he noticed me. His shiny black hair and unnatural blue eyes. I wasn’t the only one watching him, that’s for sure. His movements were elegant in a boyish way. And his smile…his smile.
I would die for that smile.
Still no messages…
I thought about calling him, maybe apologize for going too fast yesterday. I’m a coward, I know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dial his number.
Besides he’d promised he’d contact me when he’s ready.
So I’ll wait. I’m patient.
I know, I’ll just casually stroll past his house. Just to see if he’s home. Maybe he’s out, that would explain why he couldn’t call me yet.
He only lives half an hour away anyway. Maybe he’s shy and is scared to call me. Silly boy. I’ll go to him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be scared. That I don’t mind if he needs time.
He lives pretty secluded in a farm on the outskirts of town. I can hear the sheep in the stables as I approach. My heart skips when I see there are lights burning inside. He must be there, he told me yesterday his parents would be gone for the weekend. They left him to look after the sheep for those days. Poor baby, that must be hard work. He was probably just too busy to call me. I’ll have to stay here until his parents come back and help him take care of all those sheep. I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he fell asleep. The thought of his beautiful face even more softened by sleep makes me smile. I try the door, it’s unlocked. There’s hardly any crime around here, so I guess locking the door is not needed. I try to be as quiet as possible as I sneak through the house. I want to surprise him. I cringe at every creak the stairs make as I climb them.
Finally I’ve reached the bedroom and I carefully open the door.
There he is, lying in bed as I thought. Quietly I switch on the nightlight on his desk so I can see his face.
His blue eyes are open, staring into space and his whole face is one bloody mess. His cheeks have been carved, the skin mostly removed and hanging loose on the sides of his face. He’s missing his fingernails, they are laid out on the bed carefully arranged. On his bare chest words are carved.
I look at him, my hands covering my mouth.
He’s still the same as I left him yesterday. He must have been so tired that he slept all day. How cute!
I softly kiss his forehead, making sure I don’t wake him. Then I write another message below the one on his chest, letting him know I’m here when he needs me.
I leave the room, heading back outside. I think it’s time for the sheep to go to sleep.
And tomorrow I’ll introduce myself to his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me too.
Wel een lange, maar zeker wel vermakelijk om te lezen.
The Russian Sleep Experiment
Russian researchers in the late 1940's kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn't kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.
The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during world war II.
Everything was fine for the first 5 days, the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.
After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself...
After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the lenght of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it... or rather didn't react to it. They continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. The 2 non screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly stopped.
So did the whispering to the microphones.
After 3 more days passed. The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make sure they were working, since they thought it impossible that no sound could be coming with 5 people inside. The oxygen consumption in the chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. In fact it was the amount of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy level of strenuous exercise. On the morning of the 14th day the researchers did something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, hoping to provoke any response from the captives they were afraid were either dead or vegetables.
They announced: "We are opening the chamber to test the microphones step away from the doors and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn one of you your immediate freedom."
To their surprise they heard a single phrase in a calm voice response: "We no longer want to be freed."
Debate broke out among the researchers and the military forces funding the research. Unable to provoke any more response using the intercom it was finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.
The chamber was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with fresh air and immediately voices from the microphones began to object. 3 different voices began begging, as if pleading for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, and so did the soldiers when they saw what was inside. Four of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could rightly call the state that any of them in 'life.'
The food rations past day 5 had not been so much as touched. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject's thighs and chest stuffed into the drain in the center of the chamber, blocking the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Precisely how much of the water on the floor was actually blood was never determined. All four 'surviving' test subjects also had large portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on their finger tips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the researchers initially thought. Closer examination of the position and angles of the wounds indicated that most if not all of them were self-inflicted.
The abdominal organs below the ribcage of all four test subjects had been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm remained in place, the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs had been ripped off, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had just been taken out and laid on the floor, fanning out around the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the course of days.
Most of the soldiers were Russian special operatives at the facility, but still many refused to return to the chamber to remove the test subjects. They continued to scream to be left in the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep...
To everyone's surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight in the process of being removed from the chamber. One of the Russian soldiers died from having his throat ripped out, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject's teeth. Another 5 of the soldiers lost their lives if you count ones that committed suicide in the weeks following the incident.
In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for another 3 minutes, struggling attack anyone in reach and just repeating the word "MORE" over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.
The surviving three test subjects were heavily restrained and moved to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the gas demanding to be kept awake...
The most injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back within his body it was found that he was effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought furiously against his restraints when the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear most of the way through a 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even through the weight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took only a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that died on the operating table it was found that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his struggle to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.
The second survivor had been the first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords destroyed he was unable to beg or object to surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval when the anesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when someone suggested, reluctantly, they try the surgery without anesthetic, and did not react for the entire 6 hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be medically possible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his eyes met hers.
When the surgery ended the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient could write his message. It was simple "Keep cutting."
The other two test subjects were given the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects could only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they were soon trying to escape their bonds. The moment they could speak they were again asking for the stimulant gas. The researchers tried asking why they had injured themselves, why they had ripped out their own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again.
Only one response was given: "I must remain awake."
All three subject's restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination as to what should be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath of their military 'benefactors' for having failed the stated goals of their project considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The commanding officer, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what would happen if they were put back on the gas. The researchers strongly objected, but were overruled.
In preparation for being sealed in the chamber again the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone's surprise all three stopped struggling the moment it was let slip that they were going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay awake. One of subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were monitoring his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.
The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed the same flatlines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and blew his brains out as well.
He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the remaining members of the medical and research team fled the room. "I won't be locked in here with these things! Not with you!" he screamed at the man strapped to the table. "WHAT ARE YOU?" he demanded. "I must know!"
The subject smiled.
"Have you forgotten so easily?" The subject asked. "We are you." "We are the madness that lurks within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind." "We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread."
The researcher paused. Then aimed at the subject's heart and fired.
The EEG flatlined as the subject weakly choked out "so... nearly... free..."
The Russian Sleep Experiment
Russian researchers in the late 1940's kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn't kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.
The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during world war II.
Everything was fine for the first 5 days, the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.
After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself...
After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the lenght of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it... or rather didn't react to it. They continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. The 2 non screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly stopped.
So did the whispering to the microphones.
After 3 more days passed. The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make sure they were working, since they thought it impossible that no sound could be coming with 5 people inside. The oxygen consumption in the chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. In fact it was the amount of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy level of strenuous exercise. On the morning of the 14th day the researchers did something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, hoping to provoke any response from the captives they were afraid were either dead or vegetables.
They announced: "We are opening the chamber to test the microphones step away from the doors and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn one of you your immediate freedom."
To their surprise they heard a single phrase in a calm voice response: "We no longer want to be freed."
Debate broke out among the researchers and the military forces funding the research. Unable to provoke any more response using the intercom it was finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.
The chamber was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with fresh air and immediately voices from the microphones began to object. 3 different voices began begging, as if pleading for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, and so did the soldiers when they saw what was inside. Four of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could rightly call the state that any of them in 'life.'
The food rations past day 5 had not been so much as touched. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject's thighs and chest stuffed into the drain in the center of the chamber, blocking the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Precisely how much of the water on the floor was actually blood was never determined. All four 'surviving' test subjects also had large portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on their finger tips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the researchers initially thought. Closer examination of the position and angles of the wounds indicated that most if not all of them were self-inflicted.
The abdominal organs below the ribcage of all four test subjects had been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm remained in place, the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs had been ripped off, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had just been taken out and laid on the floor, fanning out around the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the course of days.
Most of the soldiers were Russian special operatives at the facility, but still many refused to return to the chamber to remove the test subjects. They continued to scream to be left in the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep...
To everyone's surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight in the process of being removed from the chamber. One of the Russian soldiers died from having his throat ripped out, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject's teeth. Another 5 of the soldiers lost their lives if you count ones that committed suicide in the weeks following the incident.
In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for another 3 minutes, struggling attack anyone in reach and just repeating the word "MORE" over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.
The surviving three test subjects were heavily restrained and moved to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the gas demanding to be kept awake...
The most injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back within his body it was found that he was effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought furiously against his restraints when the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear most of the way through a 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even through the weight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took only a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that died on the operating table it was found that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his struggle to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.
The second survivor had been the first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords destroyed he was unable to beg or object to surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval when the anesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when someone suggested, reluctantly, they try the surgery without anesthetic, and did not react for the entire 6 hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be medically possible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his eyes met hers.
When the surgery ended the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient could write his message. It was simple "Keep cutting."
The other two test subjects were given the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects could only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they were soon trying to escape their bonds. The moment they could speak they were again asking for the stimulant gas. The researchers tried asking why they had injured themselves, why they had ripped out their own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again.
Only one response was given: "I must remain awake."
All three subject's restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination as to what should be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath of their military 'benefactors' for having failed the stated goals of their project considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The commanding officer, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what would happen if they were put back on the gas. The researchers strongly objected, but were overruled.
In preparation for being sealed in the chamber again the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone's surprise all three stopped struggling the moment it was let slip that they were going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay awake. One of subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were monitoring his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.
The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed the same flatlines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and blew his brains out as well.
He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the remaining members of the medical and research team fled the room. "I won't be locked in here with these things! Not with you!" he screamed at the man strapped to the table. "WHAT ARE YOU?" he demanded. "I must know!"
The subject smiled.
"Have you forgotten so easily?" The subject asked. "We are you." "We are the madness that lurks within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind." "We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread."
The researcher paused. Then aimed at the subject's heart and fired.
The EEG flatlined as the subject weakly choked out "so... nearly... free..."
Omdat dit een bazentopic is!!quote:
Waarom kan ik hier niet wegblijven AAAAAH
[zielig] Wie is TS?
[/zielig]
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Wow erg interessant verhaal van die sleep experiment. Jammer dat het niet waar is ik had er graag meer over gelezen.
Godverdomme, wat een gruwelijk topic. Niet echt slim om te lezen om 1 uur 's nachts, maar kon ook niet stoppen. Heb alles gelezen. Ben opeens weer klaar wakker.
Heb alles gelezen. Ben opeens weer klaar wakker.
Op
Witness
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.
Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once you got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…
Once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.
Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.
Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.
Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once you got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…
Once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.
Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.
Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Deze is baas.quote:
Witness
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.
Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once you got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…
Once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.
Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.
Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Goed begin voor een schooldag.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ik heb ze allemaal aan een stuk door gelezen
Voor 14,99 kan hier jouw opmerking staan!
Of je kan het heel lief vragen.
Of je kan het heel lief vragen.
The Thing in the Window
That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
At first I thought it was a prank, a doll or mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. But I realized as I walked out of my house to pull it away… it wasn’t there. I shrugged it off, thinking that someone had hidden it while I was talking through my door. But I went back in and looked out that same window, and it was looking in, staring at me. I walked aruond my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out, but no one was there. The thing is hairless and naked, and it didn’t look like it actually had eyes, or even a face at all. But its head is turned towards me when I enter the room. When I sit on my computer, I can feel its faceless hatred boring into my neck. But when I turn around, it’s innocently turned in a different direction.
Finally on Thursday I tried to open the window, but it’s stuck. I think the thing’s hands are keeping it down. But I got a good look at its face. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward.
It stared at me, smiling.
Of course, I screamed.
I pulled back a fist and smashed it onto the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I’m strong enough. That glass should’ve cracked. But it didn’t. It shuddered under my hand, but it didn’t break. And that smile just got wider and wider and wider, until I thought its head would break in half. It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me. But I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it had hit, and I backed away. No way did I want that smile in the same room as me.
So I got a roll of duct tape, and I started covering the window. I couldn’t look directly at it; I nearly shit my pants just knowing it was watching me. But I couldn’t help it, I took a quick glance at the skin covered face. A small peek.
It was angry
.
That grin was now a gaping frown full of teeth. The skin had ripped away from its mouth and I coul see down its cavernous throat. A menacing rumble started to fill the house, and that hairline crack began to spread like splintering ice. I pulled down the duct tape. The rumble stopped, the split skin healed over, and it began to smile again. Now it’s night, and the noise hasn’t started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, no crackling glass. Everything’s quiet now. I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can hear its skin stretching as it smiles.
It’s watching me type.
That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
At first I thought it was a prank, a doll or mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. But I realized as I walked out of my house to pull it away… it wasn’t there. I shrugged it off, thinking that someone had hidden it while I was talking through my door. But I went back in and looked out that same window, and it was looking in, staring at me. I walked aruond my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out, but no one was there. The thing is hairless and naked, and it didn’t look like it actually had eyes, or even a face at all. But its head is turned towards me when I enter the room. When I sit on my computer, I can feel its faceless hatred boring into my neck. But when I turn around, it’s innocently turned in a different direction.
Finally on Thursday I tried to open the window, but it’s stuck. I think the thing’s hands are keeping it down. But I got a good look at its face. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward.
It stared at me, smiling.
Of course, I screamed.
I pulled back a fist and smashed it onto the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I’m strong enough. That glass should’ve cracked. But it didn’t. It shuddered under my hand, but it didn’t break. And that smile just got wider and wider and wider, until I thought its head would break in half. It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me. But I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it had hit, and I backed away. No way did I want that smile in the same room as me.
So I got a roll of duct tape, and I started covering the window. I couldn’t look directly at it; I nearly shit my pants just knowing it was watching me. But I couldn’t help it, I took a quick glance at the skin covered face. A small peek.
It was angry
.
That grin was now a gaping frown full of teeth. The skin had ripped away from its mouth and I coul see down its cavernous throat. A menacing rumble started to fill the house, and that hairline crack began to spread like splintering ice. I pulled down the duct tape. The rumble stopped, the split skin healed over, and it began to smile again. Now it’s night, and the noise hasn’t started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, no crackling glass. Everything’s quiet now. I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can hear its skin stretching as it smiles.
It’s watching me type.
Goeie!quote:
The Thing in the Window
That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
At first I thought it was a prank, a doll or mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. But I realized as I walked out of my house to pull it away… it wasn’t there. I shrugged it off, thinking that someone had hidden it while I was talking through my door. But I went back in and looked out that same window, and it was looking in, staring at me. I walked aruond my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out, but no one was there. The thing is hairless and naked, and it didn’t look like it actually had eyes, or even a face at all. But its head is turned towards me when I enter the room. When I sit on my computer, I can feel its faceless hatred boring into my neck. But when I turn around, it’s innocently turned in a different direction.
Finally on Thursday I tried to open the window, but it’s stuck. I think the thing’s hands are keeping it down. But I got a good look at its face. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward.
It stared at me, smiling.
Of course, I screamed.
I pulled back a fist and smashed it onto the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I’m strong enough. That glass should’ve cracked. But it didn’t. It shuddered under my hand, but it didn’t break. And that smile just got wider and wider and wider, until I thought its head would break in half. It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me. But I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it had hit, and I backed away. No way did I want that smile in the same room as me.
So I got a roll of duct tape, and I started covering the window. I couldn’t look directly at it; I nearly shit my pants just knowing it was watching me. But I couldn’t help it, I took a quick glance at the skin covered face. A small peek.
It was angry
.
That grin was now a gaping frown full of teeth. The skin had ripped away from its mouth and I coul see down its cavernous throat. A menacing rumble started to fill the house, and that hairline crack began to spread like splintering ice. I pulled down the duct tape. The rumble stopped, the split skin healed over, and it began to smile again. Now it’s night, and the noise hasn’t started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, no crackling glass. Everything’s quiet now. I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can hear its skin stretching as it smiles.
It’s watching me type.
Ookal zijn ze 's avonds 3x enger dan overdag.
Zo is dat.
We kunnen toch wel even een paar uur wachten.quote:Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 15:31 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:
[..]
Goeie!
Ookal zijn ze 's avonds 3x enger dan overdag.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Kom maar op met wat leuke creepy verhalen!!!!
The Bad Dream
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
The Bad Dream
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
Heb ik al eerder gepost geloof ik toch?quote:
Kom maar op met wat leuke creepy verhalen!!!!
The Bad Dream
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
Post er nog een!
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Excusesquote:
[..]
Heb ik al eerder gepost geloof ik toch?
Post er nog een!
Er komt er nog meer aan, maar het is wat vroeg. Geeft geen effect
HOLY SHITquote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
Ik verwachtte er heel wat van, maar blijkbaar vind ik het overdag gewoon niet eng. Straks maar verder lezen als ik in bed lig.quote:
Schrok jij je niet dood dan?quote:
[..]
Ik verwachtte er heel wat van, maar blijkbaar vind ik het overdag gewoon niet eng. Straks maar verder lezen als ik in bed lig.
Ja, ga hem nog maar eens lezen met de computer.quote:
[..]
Heb ik misschien iets gemist ofzo? Omdat ik op de ipod zit ofzo?
Ik schrok me laveloos... allemachtig.. geen goed idee, voor een donkere avond...quote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
En toch kan ik hier niet wegblijven......
Tyfus, ik geloof niet in spoken enzo, maar ik moet dalijk toch echt een hoop porno kijken wil ik in slaap vallen!
Discovery Channel helpt ook wel, zolang het niet over spoken gaat Nu direct slapen is toch wel wat moeilijker.
Creepypasta was al bekend bij me, maar er staat echt een GIGANTISCH lange op die site over Zelda.
Ik deed er echt iets van 4 uur over omdat ik alles wou lezen + alle filmpjes kijken.
Ik geloof iets van 3 of 4 YT filmpjes van 20-30mins..
Die zit wel goed in elkaar tot je de comments leest, dus comments echt als laatste bewaren bij die
[ Bericht 3% gewijzigd door #ANONIEM op 11-10-2011 22:20:05 ]
Discovery Channel helpt ook wel, zolang het niet over spoken gaat
Nu direct slapen is toch wel wat moeilijker.Creepypasta was al bekend bij me, maar er staat echt een GIGANTISCH lange op die site over Zelda.
Ik deed er echt iets van 4 uur over omdat ik alles wou lezen + alle filmpjes kijken.
Ik geloof iets van 3 of 4 YT filmpjes van 20-30mins..
Die zit wel goed in elkaar tot je de comments leest, dus comments echt als laatste bewaren bij die
[ Bericht 3% gewijzigd door #ANONIEM op 11-10-2011 22:20:05 ]
Waarom schrok iedereen? Ik zit op iPod. Ik vond hem niet heel eng of zo.quote:Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:14 schreef contactdoos het volgende:
[..]
Ik schrok me laveloos... allemachtig.. geen goed idee, voor een donkere avond...
En toch kan ik hier niet wegblijven......
Zo is dat.
Op iPod doet ie het niet goed.quote:
[..]
Waarom schrok iedereen? Ik zit op iPod. Ik vond hem niet heel eng of zo.
Wristbands
When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored wristbands which symbolize other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead people.
There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator door opened, another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised, the woman reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other woman in.
The doctor said, "That was the woman I just operated on. She died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was wearing?"
The woman smiled, raised her arm, and said, "Something like this?"
When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored wristbands which symbolize other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead people.
There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator door opened, another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised, the woman reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other woman in.
The doctor said, "That was the woman I just operated on. She died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was wearing?"
The woman smiled, raised her arm, and said, "Something like this?"
Cat Eyes
The eyes of a cat are windows to your soul. They can see other dimensions, they can see your aura, and what's wrong with you.
A cat knows when you are happy, when you are in bad health, when you are troubled, or when you are hungry. He knows when you are feeling magnanimous, and he knows when you are about to die.
It's fortunate that cats can't talk, because you have a lot of secrets. The cat knows.
The eyes of a cat are windows to your soul. They can see other dimensions, they can see your aura, and what's wrong with you.
A cat knows when you are happy, when you are in bad health, when you are troubled, or when you are hungry. He knows when you are feeling magnanimous, and he knows when you are about to die.
It's fortunate that cats can't talk, because you have a lot of secrets. The cat knows.
Eens kijken wie alert is..
Somewhere in West Philadelphia , you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles , and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will think that cabs like these are rare, don't say anything about it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be somewhere between 7 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo homes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
Somewhere in West Philadelphia , you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles , and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will think that cabs like these are rare, don't say anything about it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be somewhere between 7 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo homes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
Hehe.quote:
Eens kijken wie alert is..
Somewhere in West Philadelphia , you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.
After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles , and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.
With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will think that cabs like these are rare, don't say anything about it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say 'Yo homes to Bel Air'. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be somewhere between 7 and 8 o'clock, even though it will feel like you've been traveling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say 'Yo homes, smell ya later!', but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.
If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.
Singer
So last night I couldn't sleep. It was probably because I had some soda before bed. I tried going on the computer but the internet was down. I tried watching some television but it was all white noise (weird for Digital Cable). That is when I heard it. It sounded like a woman singing and it was coming from my attic. I couldn't find a light so I grabbed the closest source of light I could find (which was my camcorder, didn't film anything though). I used the nightvison to make my way to the attic. When I made my way inside the singing stopped. I thought about going back downstairs and back to bed but I had already made it this far. I began to walk through the basement and towards the second door (the attic is divided into two rooms).
When I got close i heard this thumping sound. When I reached for the door it got reeeeaaaalllly cold and I began to shiver like hell. I opened the door and made my way in (there was this nonexistent entry hall that led into the room). I looked around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. That was until I checked the alcove to the right of the door. There was something standing in the corner of the room banging its head against the wall.
I let out a gasp and the thing turned around. It looked right at me. It didn't get a good look at it but there was something that stuck out to me. It had no jaw. I didn't even wait a second to haul ass the **** out of there. I made sure to lock the door behind me (and bolt the ladder closed). I ran outside and jumped in my car. I drove to a local car park and called my parents (they are living in tokyo for two more months. I'm housesitting for them). I told her what happened and she got all freaked out and said something to the extent of "It came back" and hung up. I'm staying at a hotel for a couple days and I keep hearing things. It sounds like singing and it's coming from room above me.
So last night I couldn't sleep. It was probably because I had some soda before bed. I tried going on the computer but the internet was down. I tried watching some television but it was all white noise (weird for Digital Cable). That is when I heard it. It sounded like a woman singing and it was coming from my attic. I couldn't find a light so I grabbed the closest source of light I could find (which was my camcorder, didn't film anything though). I used the nightvison to make my way to the attic. When I made my way inside the singing stopped. I thought about going back downstairs and back to bed but I had already made it this far. I began to walk through the basement and towards the second door (the attic is divided into two rooms).
When I got close i heard this thumping sound. When I reached for the door it got reeeeaaaalllly cold and I began to shiver like hell. I opened the door and made my way in (there was this nonexistent entry hall that led into the room). I looked around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. That was until I checked the alcove to the right of the door. There was something standing in the corner of the room banging its head against the wall.
I let out a gasp and the thing turned around. It looked right at me. It didn't get a good look at it but there was something that stuck out to me. It had no jaw. I didn't even wait a second to haul ass the **** out of there. I made sure to lock the door behind me (and bolt the ladder closed). I ran outside and jumped in my car. I drove to a local car park and called my parents (they are living in tokyo for two more months. I'm housesitting for them). I told her what happened and she got all freaked out and said something to the extent of "It came back" and hung up. I'm staying at a hotel for a couple days and I keep hearing things. It sounds like singing and it's coming from room above me.
Eigenlijk moet ik dit soort dingen niet lezen voordat ik naar bed ga, maar ik kan het echt niet laten.
Ik scrollde er net snel doorheen en hoorde keihard geklik. Ik durf niet!quote:
[..]
Ja, ga hem nog maar eens lezen met de computer.
The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Leuk om te lezen terwijl je op zolder zit, en er nog een zolderkamer isquote:
Singer
So last night I couldn't sleep. It was probably because I had some soda before bed. I tried going on the computer but the internet was down. I tried watching some television but it was all white noise (weird for Digital Cable). That is when I heard it. It sounded like a woman singing and it was coming from my attic. I couldn't find a light so I grabbed the closest source of light I could find (which was my camcorder, didn't film anything though). I used the nightvison to make my way to the attic. When I made my way inside the singing stopped. I thought about going back downstairs and back to bed but I had already made it this far. I began to walk through the basement and towards the second door (the attic is divided into two rooms).
When I got close i heard this thumping sound. When I reached for the door it got reeeeaaaalllly cold and I began to shiver like hell. I opened the door and made my way in (there was this nonexistent entry hall that led into the room). I looked around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. That was until I checked the alcove to the right of the door. There was something standing in the corner of the room banging its head against the wall.
I let out a gasp and the thing turned around. It looked right at me. It didn't get a good look at it but there was something that stuck out to me. It had no jaw. I didn't even wait a second to haul ass the **** out of there. I made sure to lock the door behind me (and bolt the ladder closed). I ran outside and jumped in my car. I drove to a local car park and called my parents (they are living in tokyo for two more months. I'm housesitting for them). I told her what happened and she got all freaked out and said something to the extent of "It came back" and hung up. I'm staying at a hotel for a couple days and I keep hearing things. It sounds like singing and it's coming from room above me.
quote:Footsteps aren’t an uncommon thing to hear when you’re sitting in a basement, so I think nothing of it when I hear quiet thuds coming from my upstairs hallway. I just assume it’s my brother, and continue doing whatever pointless little thing I was doing at the time. They go on for another couple minutes, and I’m starting to get pissed off. They keep getting louder and louder and I sigh, wondering what the hell my brother’s doing this late at night. I sit there, because it’s impossible to focus with the racket. I mean, it sounds like someone’s power walking all over my main floor.
I sit there and listen as the thumps get faster and wilder. They just keep moving, almost starting to form a rhythm. They move even faster and get even wilder and they’re thumping all over my main floor. I realize that whatever this is, it can’t be human. No human can move like that.
“What the fuck?!” I finally yell. After that, all the noises stop. Everything is quiet for a moment, and then I hear calm, slow footsteps moving to my basement door. The door is pushed open, and the footsteps stop again. I listen to my breathing for the next three minutes, then sigh, thinking it’s over. Turns out something else was listening, too. Suddenly I hear it thudding down the stairs, and I knock my chair over in my haste to stand up. I start to run towards the nearest closet, just in time to see a grotesque, hairless, four-legged creature, dancing towards me, tapping it’s swollen feet in an intoxicating rhythm. I dive into the closet and slam the door shut. There’s a half-second pause and then I hear that same rhythm on the door.
It just keeps going and going with no pause, no rests, no relief. He’s been at it for hours now, and I find myself tapping my fingers along with his song. But then, just as suddenly as it began, it ends. I wait for a few moments, then look out. He’s gone. I flip on a light and fall into a chair. It’s safe. I relax and think for a few moments. But then I notice my foot tapping. Maybe this song isn’t so bad, I almost like it enough to dance to it. So I drop down on my hands and feet, and I start.
The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Ik vond hem eigenlijk wel meevallenquote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
Dit inderdaad.quote:
The stories and information posted here are artistic works of fiction and falsehood.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Only a fool would take anything posted here as fact.
Je mist wat!quote:
[..]
Vandaar dat ik hem ook wel mee vond vallen, want ik zit op ipad
Geen angst hebben.quote:
[..]
Vandaar dat ik hem ook wel mee vond vallen, want ik zit op ipad
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Zegt degene die zich Jadusable noemt.quote:
(de auteur van 'The Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge, a.k.a. BEN')
With bloody fists I'll batter like a ten ton hammer, son.
Ik kan nu even geen goede creepypasta's vinden
Heb al velen goede gepost and i'm almost out of ammo
Kom maar op met wat leuke verhalen
Heb al velen goede gepost and i'm almost out of ammo
Kom maar op met wat leuke verhalen
No shit broquote:
[..]
Zegt degene die zich Jadusable noemt.
(de auteur van 'The Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge, a.k.a. BEN')
I Did Not Want This For Him.
Speciaal voor jou man.quote:
Ik kan nu even geen goede creepypasta's vinden
Heb al velen goede gepost and i'm almost out of ammo
Kom maar op met wat leuke verhalen
Omdat je zo actief meedoet. The Funhouse Mummy
The Myth:
A prop at a carnival was discovered not to be
made of the usual combination of papier mache
and carni spit, but human skin and bone. All the
little kiddies at the haunted house had been
poking and giggling at a real, mummified dead
body.
The Truth:
Apparently the smell wasn’t just coming from
the convict manning the corndog stand. Back in
1976, a camera crew filming an episode of The
Six Million Dollar Man began to set up in the
haunted house at the Nu-Pike Amusement Park
in Long Beach, Calif.
As they were moving aside a "hanging man"
prop, they accidentally knocked off its arm and
discovered human bones inside. Bionic, this poor
sap wasn’t.
The story gets stranger.
The body was actually
that of criminal mastermind Elmer McCurdy,
who was killed in a shootout after robbing a
train in 1911. The princely sum old Elmer got
killed for? $46 (and two jugs of whiskey).
McCurdy was embalmed by the local undertaker,
and apparently the guy was so darn pleased with
his work that he propped up the corpse in the
funeral home as evidence of his skills. People
were charged 5 cents to see the corpse, which
they paid by dropping a nickel in the cadaver’s
mouth. Remember that little bit of history the
next time somebody turns their nose up at you
for liking Hostel 2.
Think it can’t get any stranger? Oh, you naïve
fool.
After several years of raking in the nickels
(how exactly these coins were retrieved after
being dropped into the corpse’s mouth is
something probably best left to the imagination)
our enterprising undertaker’s scheme was
ruined when McCurdy's brothers showed up to
claim him. Of course, these guys weren’t his
brothers at all, but wily carnival promoters.
From that point on, McCurdy’s mummy went on
a morbid mystery tour all around America,
popping up at carnivals all over the country
before finally coming to rest in Long Beach.
McCurdy is now buried in Oklahoma. Because
McCurdy apparently had the most entertaining
corpse in history, they prevented anyone else
from taking him on tour by dumping concrete on
top of the casket. No, really.
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Upstairs
When I was a child my family moved to a big old two-floor house, with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening when I came home the house was still dark. I called out, "Mum?" and heard her sing song voice say "Yeeeeees?" from upstairs.
I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in, and again got the same "Yeeeeees?" reply. We were decorating at the time, and I didn't know my way around the maze of rooms but she was in one of the far ones, right down the hall. I felt uneasy, but I figured that was only natural so I rushed forward to see my mum, knowing that her presence would calm my fears, as a mother's presence always does.
Just as I reached for the handle of the door to let myself in to the room I heard the front door downstairs open and my mother call "Sweetie, are you home?" in a cheery voice. I jumped back, startled and ran down the stairs to her, but as I glanced back from the top of the stairs, the door to the room slowly opened a crack. For a brief moment, I saw something strange in there, and I don't know what it was, but it was staring at me.
When I was a child my family moved to a big old two-floor house, with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening when I came home the house was still dark. I called out, "Mum?" and heard her sing song voice say "Yeeeeees?" from upstairs.
I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in, and again got the same "Yeeeeees?" reply. We were decorating at the time, and I didn't know my way around the maze of rooms but she was in one of the far ones, right down the hall. I felt uneasy, but I figured that was only natural so I rushed forward to see my mum, knowing that her presence would calm my fears, as a mother's presence always does.
Just as I reached for the handle of the door to let myself in to the room I heard the front door downstairs open and my mother call "Sweetie, are you home?" in a cheery voice. I jumped back, startled and ran down the stairs to her, but as I glanced back from the top of the stairs, the door to the room slowly opened a crack. For a brief moment, I saw something strange in there, and I don't know what it was, but it was staring at me.
Railroad
My cousin and I had gone to San Antonio, and we had heard rumors of some haunted railroad tracks. The story was, a school bus full of children had stalled on these tracks with a train coming. The train was going too fast for there to be time to get the children off. So they all died. When we finally found the tracks, we stopped the car, parking it right on the railroad tracks. We were both a little nervous, and scared, and waited for something to happen. Just when we were about to leave, the car started rolling. We were both too freaked out to do any more than grab each other and gasp, eyes wide, mouths open. After what seemed like an eternity, (but was actually less than five minutes tops) the car stopped rolling. We looked around, and we were off the railroad tracks.
Now, that may not seem spooky, but what we saw next scared us enough to jump back in the car and make the six hour trip home THAT NIGHT. Both of us got out of the car and walked around to the back. After the first six hour drive, our car had accumulated quite a bit of dust on it. That's not scary, no. But what was scary was the little sets of handprints all over the back of the car. All the size of children's hands
My cousin and I had gone to San Antonio, and we had heard rumors of some haunted railroad tracks. The story was, a school bus full of children had stalled on these tracks with a train coming. The train was going too fast for there to be time to get the children off. So they all died. When we finally found the tracks, we stopped the car, parking it right on the railroad tracks. We were both a little nervous, and scared, and waited for something to happen. Just when we were about to leave, the car started rolling. We were both too freaked out to do any more than grab each other and gasp, eyes wide, mouths open. After what seemed like an eternity, (but was actually less than five minutes tops) the car stopped rolling. We looked around, and we were off the railroad tracks.
Now, that may not seem spooky, but what we saw next scared us enough to jump back in the car and make the six hour trip home THAT NIGHT. Both of us got out of the car and walked around to the back. After the first six hour drive, our car had accumulated quite a bit of dust on it. That's not scary, no. But what was scary was the little sets of handprints all over the back of the car. All the size of children's hands
Mother's Love
One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.
The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn't stay with the doubt on his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as on her arms. They then decide to stop and see if they could be of any help.
The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a new born baby, were still inside the car which was in a deep ditch. She told them that the husband was already dead but that her baby seemed to still be alive.
The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside the their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn't pay any attention to it and took out the baby quickly and got up to take the baby to it's mother. When he got up, he didn't see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman followed him back to the crashed car.
When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom was unmistakeably the woman who had flagged them down.
One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.
The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn't stay with the doubt on his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as on her arms. They then decide to stop and see if they could be of any help.
The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a new born baby, were still inside the car which was in a deep ditch. She told them that the husband was already dead but that her baby seemed to still be alive.
The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside the their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn't pay any attention to it and took out the baby quickly and got up to take the baby to it's mother. When he got up, he didn't see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman followed him back to the crashed car.
When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom was unmistakeably the woman who had flagged them down.
En mijn laatste van vandaag. Word wat depressief van het lezen van creepypastas
Babydoll
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
Babydoll
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
Deze vind ik meer vrolijk dan eng.quote:
Mother's Love
One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.
The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn't stay with the doubt on his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as on her arms. They then decide to stop and see if they could be of any help.
The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a new born baby, were still inside the car which was in a deep ditch. She told them that the husband was already dead but that her baby seemed to still be alive.
The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside the their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn't pay any attention to it and took out the baby quickly and got up to take the baby to it's mother. When he got up, he didn't see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman followed him back to the crashed car.
When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom was unmistakeably the woman who had flagged them down.
Meeeeerrr!!
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Ik zeg het maar voor de rest mang, want het is een tof verhaal dat ze moeten lezen.quote:
With bloody fists I'll batter like a ten ton hammer, son.
Waar vind je goede korte? De meeste goede die ik zie vind ik te lang om hier te posten. En de korte die ik vind zijn vaak niet zo goed.
One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.
His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.
He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.
She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "No." He was devastated.
When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "No." It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.
The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said "No." He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.
Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when he was suddenly hit by a car. He died instantly, picture in hand.
The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. He saw the picture and picked it up.
He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.
His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.
He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.
She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "No." He was devastated.
When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "No." It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.
The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said "No." He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.
Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when he was suddenly hit by a car. He died instantly, picture in hand.
The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. He saw the picture and picked it up.
He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.
Die is al best oud en toch blijft het een goed verhaalquote:
Ik zit nou ook te zoeken naar goede kortere pasta's maar daar zijn er niet zo veel van
Voor 14,99 kan hier jouw opmerking staan!
Of je kan het heel lief vragen.
Of je kan het heel lief vragen.
ik moest lachenquote:
Ik liep een keer langs de waterkant en zag een zombie maar het bleek TS te zijn haha naderhand dronken we bier, olifant snuit enzo.
TOT: Als moderator kijk je goed naar de users: heb je te maken met een troll, een kutkloon of een racist?
Iemand die zeker NIET in dit rijtje hoort is DeBassist! :D
naatje_1: DeBassist, die ken je wel met een hoofdletter B en een harde L
Iemand die zeker NIET in dit rijtje hoort is DeBassist! :D
naatje_1: DeBassist, die ken je wel met een hoofdletter B en een harde L
Inderdaad, ook niet eng maar wel een klassieker. Ik ga trouwens mijn eigen schrijven.quote:
[..]
Die is al best oud en toch blijft het een goed verhaal
It's early morning. The sun won't be up for another couple of hours. You're fast asleep in bed, lost in a dream, when the phone rings. Rather than waking up, you roll over and cover your head with a pillow.
Hours pass. The sun rises.
The phone is ringing.
When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning.
You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice.
Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one.
The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.
Screaming.
You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.
The phone beeps again. You're shaking.
Message two.
Hours pass. The sun rises.
The phone is ringing.
When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning.
You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice.
Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one.
The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.
Screaming.
You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.
The phone beeps again. You're shaking.
Message two.
With bloody fists I'll batter like a ten ton hammer, son.
Every time you exhale, a little bit of your soul escapes. Luckily, you almost always inhale it back before anyone else gets to it. Almost.
Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?
Don’t do that.
Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?
Don’t do that.
Nee, Jij trekt volle zalen. Kom dan met met echte verhalen!quote:
[ Bericht 0% gewijzigd door Oerbeer op 03-08-2012 00:26:11 ]
Same herequote:
Eigenlijk moet ik dit soort dingen niet lezen voordat ik naar bed ga, maar ik kan het echt niet laten.
Ik heb een groot deel gelezen maar het is een beetje te veel.quote:
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/2010/09/majora.html
veel plezier
Is het jet waard om het helemaal te lezen?
Op z'n flamingos. :7
Oke ik stop nu want dit is echt geen goed tijdstip om dit allemaal door te lezen..
''Before you talk to the chief, you must party with the chief.''
Heb het helemaal gelezen. Als je niks te doen hebt, is het wel leuk om te lezen.quote:
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/2010/09/majora.html
veel plezier
Ik heb zelf het spel (waar het verhaal over gaat) nog nooit gespeeld, denk dat het verhaal anders veel leuker was.
De FGD heeft het topic gevonden en achterhaald!
Bazentopic dit, zocht het al een tijdje.
Weet iemand meer van zulke verhalen?
Bazentopic dit, zocht het al een tijdje.
Weet iemand meer van zulke verhalen?
Google | Wikipedia | Go2War2 | IMDb | Clint Eastwood Forum | YouTube | Pawn Stars | LiveLeak | eBay | Amazon (UK) | Amazon (US) | Zavvi | BBC | 9GAG | Gabriel Iglesias | AD | Blu-Ray.com |
Ja eentje over een hond maar ik ga slapenquote:
De FGD heeft het topic gevonden en achterhaald!
Bazentopic dit, zocht het al een tijdje.
Weet iemand meer van zulke verhalen?
* Haifisch doet geheime FGD groet
Ice Cream Sandwich [x] Chromebook [x] Gmail [x] Google + [x] Google Docs [x] Picasa [x] Youtube [x] Google TV [ ]
Ik had allang in bed moeten liggen, want ik moet er op tijd uit, maar ik durf eigenlijk niet te gaan slapen nu.
There's a lesson that you always have to learn
Through the consequence of fire comes the burn
Through the consequence of fire comes the burn
Ik schrok me helemaal de tering manquote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
. De eerste keer greep ik spastisch naar mijn hart, de tweede keer maakte ik een waawaawaa geluidje .
WTF !
Je hoeft niet te schreeuwen als je je punt niet kan onderbouwen. Ik hoor je namelijk toch niet. O+
Ik heb de hele nacht al geritsel en geschuifel bij mijn raam 
Je hoeft niet te schreeuwen als je je punt niet kan onderbouwen. Ik hoor je namelijk toch niet. O+
Ik geef toe, bij dat eerste moment stopte ik even met ademen.quote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
mjommmmmquote:
Je hoeft niet te schreeuwen als je je punt niet kan onderbouwen. Ik hoor je namelijk toch niet. O+
Die is het gruwelijkst ja. Je verwacht daarna half en half dat er nog een moment komt.quote:
[..]
Ik geef toe, bij dat eerste moment stopte ik even met ademen.
waarom heet het creepy pasta
Je hoeft niet te schreeuwen als je je punt niet kan onderbouwen. Ik hoor je namelijk toch niet. O+
''Creepypasta has been around in different variations and called different things as long as the internet has been around. First starting out on BBSs and then migrating to usenet. Creepypasta has especially spread through 4chan, where it got its name as a derivative of Copypasta''quote:
http://ohinternet.com/Creepypasta
xD Die was goed xDquote:
[..]
Ik geef toe, bij dat eerste moment stopte ik even met ademen.
Google | Wikipedia | Go2War2 | IMDb | Clint Eastwood Forum | YouTube | Pawn Stars | LiveLeak | eBay | Amazon (UK) | Amazon (US) | Zavvi | BBC | 9GAG | Gabriel Iglesias | AD | Blu-Ray.com |
Godver, ik scrollde er even doorheen, brrr.quote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
Toen ging het verhaal nog verder en bam!
Je moeder is een hamster
Best garpig toch?quote:
[..]
Godver, ik scrollde er even doorheen, brrr.
Toen ging het verhaal nog verder en bam!
Google | Wikipedia | Go2War2 | IMDb | Clint Eastwood Forum | YouTube | Pawn Stars | LiveLeak | eBay | Amazon (UK) | Amazon (US) | Zavvi | BBC | 9GAG | Gabriel Iglesias | AD | Blu-Ray.com |
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
Creepypasta
vermiste zieke episodes van cartoons... Ouder topic
vermiste zieke episodes van cartoons... Ouder topic
quote:I want to start off by saying that if you want an answer at the end, prepare to be disappointed. There isn’t one.
I was an intern at Nickelodeon Studios for a year in 2005 for my degree in animation. It wasn’t paid, of course, but most internships aren’t. It did have some perks beyond education, though. To adults, it might not seem like a big one, but most kids at the time would have shit themselves over it. Since I worked directly with the editors and animators, I got to view the new episodes days before they were aired.
I’ll get right to it without giving too many unnecessary details. They had very recently made the Spongebob movie, and the entire staff was somewhat sapped of creativity, so it took them a little longer to start up the new season, but the delay lasted longer for more upsetting reasons. There was a problem with the season four premiere that set everyone and everything back for several months.
Two other interns and I were in the editing room along with the lead animators and sound editors for the final cut. We received the copy that was supposed to be “Fear of a Krabby Patty,” and gathered around the screen to watch. Now, given that it isn’t final yet, animators often put up a mock title card as a little inside joke, with phony, often times lewd titles, such as “How Sex Doesn’t Work” instead of “Rock-a-by-Bialve”, the episode where Spongebob and Patrick adopt a baby Sea Scallop. There’s nothing particularly funny except for a few work-related chuckles. So, when we saw the title card, “Squidward’s Suicide,” we didn’t think it more than a morbid joke. One of the interns did a small throat laugh at it. The happy-go-lucky music played as normal.
The story began with Squidward practicing his clarinet, hitting a few sour notes as normal. We hear Spongebob laughing outside and Squidward stops, yelling at him to keep it down as he had a concert that night and needed to practice. Spongebob complies and goes to see Sandy with Patrick. The bubbles splash screen comes up and we see the ending of Squidward’s concert. This is where things begin to seem off. While playing, a few frames repeat themselves, but the sound doesn’t (at this point, sound is synced up with animation, so yes that’s not common), but when he stops playing the sound finishes as if the skip never happened. There is a slight murmuring in the crowd before they begin to boo him.
This wasn’t the normal cartoon booing that’s common in the show. You could clearly hear malice in it. Squidward was in full frame and looked visibly afraid. The shot goes to the crowd, with Spongebob in center frame. He, too, is booing, which is very much unlike him. That isn’t the oddest thing, though. What’s odd is that everyone had hyper-realistic eyes. They were very detailed. They weren’t shots of real peoples’ eyes, but something a bit more real than CGI. The pupils were read, too. Some of us looked at each other, obviously confused, but since we weren’t the writers we didn’t question its appeal to children… yet.
The shot goes to Squidward as he sat on the edge of his bed, looking very forlorn. The view out of his porthole window was of a night sky, so it wasn’t very long after the concert. At this point, there was no sound. There was LITERALLY no sound. There wasn’t even feedback from the speakers in the room. It was as if the speakers were turned off, though their status showed them working perfectly. He simply sat there, blinking, in this silence for about thirty seconds, until he began to sob softly. He put his tentacles over his eyes and cried quietly for a full minute more, all the while a sound in the background slowly growing from nothing to barely audible. It sounded like a slight breeze through a forest.
The screen slowly began to zoom in on his face. By slowly, I mean it was only noticeable if you look at shots ten seconds apart side by side. His sobbing got louder and more full of hurt and anger. The screen twitches a bit for a split second, as if it twisted in on itself, then returned to normal. The wind-through-the-trees sound got slowly louder and more severe, as if a storm was brewing somewhere. The eerie part was that this sound and Squidward’s sobbing sounded real, as if the sound wasn’t coming from the speakers but as if the speakers were holes the sound was coming through from the other side. As good quality as the studio likes to have, they don’t purchase the equipment to be that good to produce sound of that quality.
Below the sound of the wind and sobbing – very faint – something sounded like laughing. It came at odd intervals and never lasted more than a second, so you had a hard time pinning it. After 30 seconds of this, the screen blurred and twitched violently as something flashed over the screen – as if one single frame was replaced. The lead animation editor paused and rewound frame by frame, and what we saw was horrible. It was a still photo of a dead child. He couldn’t have been more than six years old. The face was mangled and bloodied, and one eye was popped and dangling over his upturned face. He was naked, down to his underwear, and his stomach was crudely cut open with his entrails lying beside him.
He was lying on some pavement that was probably a road. The most upsetting part was that there was the shadow of the photographer. There was no crime tape, no evidence bags or markers, and the angle was completely off for a shot designed to be evidence. It would seem the photographer was the person responsible for the child’s death.
We were, of course, mortified, but pressed on, hoping it was just a sick joke. The screen flipped back to Squidward, still sobbing. He was louder than before, and only half of his body was in the frame. There was now what appeared to be blood running down his face from his eyes. The blood was also done in a hyper-realistic style; looking as if you touched it you’d get blood on your fingers. The wind sounded now as if it were a gale blowing through a forest; there were even snapping sounds of branches. The laughing, a deep baritone, lasted at longer intervals and came more frequently. After about twenty seconds, the screen again twisted and showed a single frame photo.
The editor was reluctant to go back, as we all were, but he knew he had to. This time, the photo was that of what appeared to be a little girl no older than the first child. She was lying on her stomach, her barrettes in a pool of blood next to her. Her left eye was, too, popped out, and she was naked except for underpants. Her entrails were piled on top of her above a crude cut along her back. Again, the body was on the street and the photographer’s shadow was visible. It was very similar in size and shape to the first. I had to choke back vomit and one intern, the only female in the room, ran out.
The show resumed. About five seconds after this second photo played, all sound stopped, like it was when this scene started. He put his tentacles down and his eyes were done in hyper-realism like the others were in the beginning of this episode. They were bleeding, bloodshot, and pulsating. He stared at the screen, as if watching the viewer. After ten seconds, he started sobbing, though not covering his eyes. The sound was piercing and loud, and most fear inducing of all was his sobbing; it was mixed with screams. Tears and blood were dripping down his face at a heavy rate. The wind sound came back, and so did the deep-voiced laughing. The next still photo lasted for a good five frames. The animator was able to stop it on the fourth and backed up.
This time, the photo was of a boy, about the same age as the other children, but the scene was different. The entrails were just being pulled out from a stomach wound by a large hand, and the right eye was popped and dangling with blood trickling down it. The animator proceeded. It was hard to believe, but the next one was different, though we couldn’t tell how. He went on to the next, and it was the same thing. Then he went back to the first and played them quicker. I lost it, vomiting on the floor. The animating and sound editors were gasping at the screen. The five frames were not as if they were five different photos. They were played out as if they were frames from a video. We saw the hand slowly lift out the guts, we saw the kid’s eyes focus on it, and we even saw two frames of the kid beginning to blink.
The lead sound editor told us to stop. He had to call in the creator to see it. Mr. Hillenburg arrived within fifteen minutes. He was confused as to why he was called down there, so the editor continued the episode.
Once the few frames were shown, all screaming, all sound again stopped. Squidward was staring at the viewer, his entire face in the frame, for about three seconds. The shot quickly panned out and that deep voice said, “DO IT.” The next thing we see is a shotgun in Squidward’s hands. He immediately puts the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. Realistic blood and brain matter splattered the wall and bed behind him, and he flies back from the force. The last five seconds of the episode show his body on the bed, on his side, with one eye dangling on what’s left of his head above the floor, staring blankly at it. Then the episode ends.
Mr. Hillenburg was obviously angry about it. He demanded to know what the hell was going on. Most people left the room at that point, so it was just a handful of us to watch it again. Viewing the episode twice only served to imprint the entirety of it into my mind and caused me horrible nightmares. I’m sorry I stayed.
The only theory we could think of was that someone in the chain from the drawing studio to here edited the file. The CTO was called in to analyze when it happened. The analysis of the file did show it was edited over by new material, however, the timestamp of it happening was a mere 24 seconds before we began viewing it. All equipment involved was examined for foreign software and hardware, as well as glitches – as if the time stamp may have glitched and showed the wrong time – but everything checked out fine. We don’t know what happened, and to this day, nobody does. There was an investigation due to the nature of the photos, but nothing came of it. No child seen was identified and no clues were gathered from the data involved or physical clues in the photos. I never believed in unexplainable phenomena before, but now that I have… If something happens and I can’t prove anything about it beyond anecdotal evidence, I think twice about things.
:')
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
ja nu heb ik alles gelezen
nog wat verhalen dan:
nog wat verhalen dan:
quote:There was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he was missing. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told.
About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him across the border as if he were asleep.
quote:A few months ago a friend of mine, who is an up-and-coming nature photographer, decided to spend a day and night alone in the woods outside of our town. She wanted to get photos of the woods and wildlife as naturally as she could for her portfolio. She wasnt afraid of being alone, as she had camped by herself many times before. She set up a tent in the middle of a small clearing and spent the day taking pictures. She filled up four rolls of film on that trip, but when she went and got them developed she saw four pictures that unsettled her, these four pictures were taken from inside the tent, of her, asleep in the middle of the night.
quote:My brother moved out of the house back in 2002 once he got his job as a Computer technician, and he recently went missing. When I went to his house, it was locked, with 3 sheets of printer paper taped to the front door.
"While coming home from work one day, I noticed someone had left their damaged grey laptop laying in the middle of my driveway one day. I got out of my car to examine it more carefully.
The LCD definitely showed signs of user related damage, as there was a large hole on the left side of the screen that fit a standard Phillips Head screwdriver perfectly. There was a webcam above the display as well, and it was also destroyed with the same screwdriver. Other than those, however, everything else on the computer showed minor signs of wear, like almost all of the keyboards keys were faded, but nothing to the extent that it could be considered unusable. I looked at the back of the display to find out what brand it is, and yet, I couldn't find anything. I looked at the entire laptop's shell and there was no text or logo stating what brand it is. In fact, there was no warranty sticker, no "Proof of licence" sticker on the bottom, no text whatsoever. What's even more odd was the fact that the only ports on the laptop was a VGA port for connecting an external display and a USB port. How long could this laptop have possibly run without a charging port to recharge the battery? It must have been a very low end laptop where you had to remove the battery pack and put it into it's own charging dock. Why did it exactly have a web cam, though?
Curious as to what exactly is on the laptop, I ran inside to my basement where my old desktop was currently being stored. The only reason it was down there was because I forgot to bring that behemoth to the local SarCan to recycle it. I would have been currently using it as my regular computer, but it takes 5 or 6 hours to fully boot because the system always goes through recovery mode every time you start it, and the processor is way to slow to "recover" everything on the 500 gb hard drive I had installed on it (A 120mhz Pentium processor doesn't get you far). Well, anyways, I removed the old LG CRT monitor from the desktop and plugged it into the laptop. I went to push the power button when...
... I stopped. There's no way this is going to work, the battery has to be dead by now.
I rummaged around the basement to find my battery voltage tester and immediately withdrew the battery from the laptop and checked the voltage. Low and behold, it had no charge. Well, might as well just leave it down here, I'll bring all of this computer junk to SarCan tomorrow morning. With that, I unplugged the display from the laptop, put it back into the desktop and simply left everything downstairs. After leaving the basement I went to go watch TV for about 3 hours or so before going to bed.
I was suddenly awakened from my deep slumber by the sound of the Windows 2000 start up jingle and fell out of my bed. It was so deafeningly loud I swore someone was holding a pair of speakers right next to my ears. After I fell out of the bed, I stood up in a groggy daze, and for a minute or so trying to figure out what that sound was. The desktop! I must have accidentally hit the power switch while trying to switch monitors! I simply walked to the basement, but froze in the middle of the steps. I just remembered there was no way my computer could have started up, because I have Windows 95 installed on my desktop. I was reluctant to go down the steps after that, but my common sense started kicking in and I thought I must be getting my OS's mixed up. When I walked down, I was shocked to see that my desktop wasn't on; in fact, I remembered it wasn't even plugged in. I had to make sure of it though. I checked behind the desktop and everything else was plugged in except for the tower. There's absolutely no chance of that laptop turning on, that's impossible. I removed the battery from the laptop again and re-checked the voltage.
This time, I couldn't get a direct number. The voltage tester was just going insane.
I re-inserted the battery pressed the power button on the laptop. Some indicator lights flashed, meaning the computer definitely started, except this time the start up jingle wasn't played at all. I need to see what's going on here. I connected the CRT monitor back into the laptop. And what I saw...
... Was a bare desktop with 3 icons in the corner. The task bar was empty, and there was no Start menu button.
The wallpaper was black. Why would anyone do this to their desktop? Anyone could remove all the icons, but they must be pretty skilled hackers to remove the Start Menu button. Of all the 3 icons, 1 was a Games folder, 1 was a Videos folder, and the last was the DOS Command Prompt program. Maybe this was a kids laptop. Clicking on the Games folder confirmed my suspicions; it was a little girl who must have owned this laptop. I felt some remorse for the poor girl because there was only 1 game in the folder, and I have no idea what the hell it was. The program name was "princess.exe". I clicked on it just to see what the game was like. A fully animated title screen came up, with various generic fairytale princesses twirling across the screen and the logo flew down with a bunch of sparkly doves holding it. The game was called "Princess Creator: Make yourself Beautiful!" Ah, so it must have been one of those low budget "put .jpgs of various clothing items onto a photo of yourself" games. Well, I was right, as the menu popped up I was given the option to "Dress up" or to "View pretty pictures". I wanted to see what the girl looked like, so I clicked on the 2nd option. She had to have been no more than 5, and on top of that she looked very cute. She was of either Mexican or Spanish origin. She wore a somewhat tattered white dress with small red frills around the sleeves and collar. It had small roses on it. I smiled, as she looked like she had a lot of fun putting a virtual tiara on her head. However, browsing through the photos, about halfway through, there are pictures of a room with nothing else but a bed inside. She must've been dodging the camera for the hell of it, I guess. After that I felt I've seen enough with that program, might as well go see the other 2 files on the laptop. I decided to go into the Command Prompt and see if I could locate any other files on the hard drive.
I simply got a ":\>_" line with no drive letter. Ok, this is really strange, I thought. I typed into the command box "start C:\" to see if I could open the directory I wanted to explore. I pressed enter, and DOS simply gave me the "'start' is not recognized as an internal or external command, operable program or batch file." After a few seconds, the program crashed, bringing me back to the desktop. So I guess the last thing to look at is the videos. As I double clicked the folder...
... The screen faded to black. I thought it had crashed, but I noticed that there was a small "_" flashing in the top left corner.
Suddenly, the text "start :\>videos\001.wmv" flashed briefly, then a video appeared in full screen. It was the girl again. This time, she was smiling, bouncing slightly in excitement. Her happiness made my heart feel warm. My guess was that she must've been recording herself play the dress up game with the webcam. At first she was simply moving her finger across the track pad, clicking, then giggling excitedly for a bit. She must've been laughing at the things she put on herself in the game. After about 2 minutes or so the screen would cut to black for a fraction of a second and it would return to the girl playing the game. This time, however, she was dressed differently, in a simple pink t-shirt with the words "Go Go Girl!" stitched in glitter. I guess the game would simply record her every time she started it, without her knowing. That made me sort of uneasy, I mean, why would anyone program a game to do that? Whatever, I think it's going to be the same sort of thing over and over with this video, I might as well turn off the computer. I reached over and pressed the power button, and...
... It didn't shut off this time. The video continued to play, and I saw the girl this time was wearing an orange tank top with nothing on it. She was smiling and giggling as usual, so I thought maybe I can turn off the computer after the video is done. It couldn't be that long. The video seemed to drag on, with more cuts of her playing the game in a different outfit, and I started to doze off. However, the next cut in the video...
The girl was just staring at the camera with an expressionless look on her face. Wondering what the hell is going on, I become interested in the video again. This one didn't made me smile. It made me extremely uneasy, watching her without her usual smiley face put on. It was dark in the room, and there was 1 desk light on at the side. She was in some sort of night wear. What is she going to do? She sat there for a minute with that blank expression, like she wasn't thinking at all. I started to get really tense, as if something awful was about to happen.
She bent over and picked up a hand saw from the left side of where she was sitting. She held it in front of her, showing it to the camera. Then, she placed the jagged blade on the side of her cheek. I cringed at what I was seeing. What the fuck is going on? Slowly, she began slicing into her right cheek. Blood drizzled down her neck as she did it. Slowly, the side of her teeth began to show after about 10 seconds, as the saw went lower down her face more of her teeth began to show on the side. Blood almost covered everything on the right side of her face. She eventually got to the bottom of her jaw bone, and sawed a tiny piece off of it too. Her cheek fell to the ground with a small thud, and she put the saw in her lap and continued to stare at the camera, emotionless. I couldn't take much more of this and tore the battery out of the laptop, but, the video continued to play.
Then, the next cut began. The girl screamed in extreme pain. I almost fell out of my seat it was so loud. She screamed and put her hands over her now absent cheek. She continued to scream in agony for about 10 seconds, then a knocking was heard from the side. It was a woman, yelling in a language I couldn't understand. She was pounding the door, but not opening it. The girl must have locked it. I tried to unplug the monitor from the laptop but it was stuck in. I didn't want to see what happens next! The screaming continued and the yelling continued up until the next cut.
She was back into her emotionless state again, but her cheek was still missing. The woman was pounding at the door and yelling still. That woman must be her mother. The girl then raised the saw up to her right shoulder, and began cutting just as slowly as last time. I gagged at the sight of this. It was a holocaust of wrong. The blood began to stream out in all directions. The yelling behind the door fell silent. I bet she's trying to get someone to help her, either the father or brother or what not. When she hit the bone, an awful grinding noise could be heard. I covered my ears, but I could still hear it vividly through my hands. I noticed that a piece of her muscle got stuck on one of the steel teeth of the saw. This cut ended a lot faster than before, and the next cut was the same thing. Except the color from her face began to drain, and her pain ridden screams became quickly weaker. Her clothing was completely red with blood on the right side.
Then, she became emotionless again. Oh god, what is she going to cut off next? The mother returned back with what seemed to be 2 other people, and they were all yelling in the same language as before. She raised the saw, and began cutting the right side of her head off. Loud thuds appeared in beat at the door. They were trying to knock it down. She slowly worked her way down, with blood going in all sorts of directions. The thuds still repeated themselves on the door. I was mostly confused as to how she keeps going even after she went through her brain with the saw. Her right eye rolled into the back of her head. Blood began leaking out of it. She eventually made it to the top of her mouth, where she hacked her way through bones and teeth. It was the single worst sound I have ever heard in my entire life. I still hear it in the back of my head some days. The thuds continued, and deep in the back of my mind I hoped they wouldn't be able to break the door down so they didn't have to see such an awful sight. She finally made it through, and with that, the right side of her head fell to the side of her neck, held on only by a piece of skin on her neck. I remember the chilling sound of her jaw being unhinged from her head when it was tugged violently by the force of her half head. She put the saw down to her side.
The cut ended, and the next cut, she simply fell face down onto the desk. Half her brain fell out onto the desk from the impact, and her eye was removed from it's socket. Blood pooled on the desk. The people trying to break down the door finally made it in, and they almost blacked out from what they saw. Their daughter was in pieces. The mother vomited and ran out of the room. The father ran to her daughter, put her head back together and cried, holding her head at the side of his. The other man, presumably the daughter's older brother, simply stared in horror at what he saw.
The horrifying self mutilation finished with that cut, and the screen cut to the empty room with the bed. With a sigh of relief that it was over, I just sat there, breathing heavily and sweating. I didn't realize that the room was so hot until now. I have so many questions to ask. How was it possible? It frightened me, and I spent a good 30 minutes sitting in the chair, and finally, I got the courage to get up out of the seat. I looked at the laptop for what I hoped was the last time. The room with the bed glared on the screen. Then, it cut to something else unexpectedly.
It was a cut of my face, in the basement, using the laptop.
quote:Peripheral Vision
Have you ever gotten a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye? A simple movement caught in your peripheral vision.
Most will simply dismiss this as a shadow brought about by a flickering candle, or perhaps a pet jumping down from a piece of furniture. Ninety-nine out of a hundred times, these people are right.
But then there’s that one elusive sight. It can easily be explained by the above conditions, but something feels wrong about it. A chill down your spine, a slight pain in your side. Maybe even a complete blanking of your mind, only to recede moments later.
Should any of these symptoms be felt, there may be cause for worry. Our peripheral vision is designed to catch motion, even in the dark. This was used to defend against predators in our early days, and as with many aspects of our human nature, it has remained, but weakened.
This view out of the corner of our eyes still alerts us to danger, and although predators have dropped on the list of dangers we may face today, they still exist.
Should you ever feel that queer chill in your back, try not to focus on that shadow you saw in the corner of your eye. It might be better not to see.
:')
Weet iemand waar je die aflevering kan zienquote:
Creepypasta
vermiste zieke episodes van cartoons... Ouder topic
[ afbeelding ][ afbeelding ]
[..]
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
die is natuurlijk vermistquote:
[..]
Weet iemand waar je die aflevering kan zien
:')
Met internet op deze wereld, surequote:
[..]
die is natuurlijk vermist
quote:
Ik liep een keer langs de waterkant en zag een zombie maar het bleek TS te zijn haha naderhand dronken we bier, olifant snuit enzo.
hallo dus dit noemen ze nou twitter
Die een na laatste mang, zieke poep.quote:
ja nu heb ik alles gelezen
nog wat verhalen dan:
[..]
[..]
[..]
[..]
With bloody fists I'll batter like a ten ton hammer, son.
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
Als jij 'm kan opsporen krijg je 10 internets van mijquote:
[..]
Met internet op deze wereld, sure
:')
HOLY SHIT IK SCHROK ME KAPOT MAN !quote:
[..]
Godver, ik scrollde er even doorheen, brrr.
Toen ging het verhaal nog verder en bam!
lol ik liet hem aan mijn zus zien.quote:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van
http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu
Eerst zo tegen mij: haha ik lach zo jij serieus enz/
Opeens ze komt bij dat enge stukje ze gooit de koptelefoon en gilt hahah!
quote:
Eigenlijk moet ik dit soort dingen niet lezen voordat ik naar bed ga, maar ik kan het echt niet laten.
Een lange, maar wel een goede:
quote:The AforementionedPosted by admin on October 27th, 2011 Day 1:
I’ve called myself paranoid for quite some time because of the little things that put me on edge. I can’t stay in the dark. Even when my eyes focus I can feel the gaze of some night dweller following me as I tiptoe to stay unheard and scan with my pathetic, nearsighted eyes. I can feel something, something hidden in the dark that must be there since I can’t see it. I can’t stand the silence either. You’d think the opposite would be true, since at least the silence I can hear if something is coming. Not someone. Something. But it’s not at all, I can feel myself stiffen and tense as I strain to pick up a sound. As if the silence is just inviting a sound that doesn’t belong. As if it’s inviting something to happen. For something to DO something. I sleep with the television on. It solves both sources of this instinctive paranoia. But now I don’t think it’s all paranoia.
Lately I’ve been hearing noises around the house, and sometimes when I look around I notice things knocked over, or missing, or just moved around. Once or twice I’ve heard something moving around just before I turn to find nothing. I’ve been having nightmares. In the nightmares a creature I’ve never seen in even the darkest of folklore tells me I should be afraid, because I will be like it soon.
Day 5:
This morning, in the first moments of waking, I saw something. It was just like that creature from my nightmares. I told myself I was still in those moments of dreaming…but I’m not sure I believe myself.
I think it touched me.
I think it had claws.
Day 6:
I saw it again, and this time I couldn’t deny I was awake. I went to get a drink and it was in the hall, just outside the barrier of light from my room. It was pale, too pale, it was nearly white despite its human-like skin and its eyes were startlingly big and black, faintly reflecting the light. Its pale skin was pulled tight across its bony frame and its veins were visible, as if the skin were too thin. It had huge claws. It scared me to know they had touched me, they were like razors and the largest three were a foot long, the other on the bend of its wrist maybe an inch. They were the same color as mine.
All this seemed captured like a photograph in the second it stared at me with its too big eyes, as if surprised it was noticed, before it darted into the dark of the hall past the corner it had peaked around.
I didn’t go to drink.
Day 7:
I think it left the house, but I didn’t sleep for fear of waking to feel its claws touch me again. I can’t stop thinking about them. They look like they’re made of the same material as my own…so how did they look so sharp?
Day 8:
I was wrong. When I woke up it was watching me sleep, awkwardly sitting in the corner diagonal from me. No. Not I woke up. It woke me up. I heard it breathing. It was a rattling sound like a sick animal; toneless, emotionless, flat. I saw all of it. Its hind legs are much shorter than its front legs, and I remember my first thought was “how can it walk on all fours with them so mismatched”. I could see its ribs…it’s so bony. It has no muscle tone. It has no features of any gender, I could tell from how it crouched, or sat, or whatever it was doing with its short hind legs. It had claws on its feet, the same as its hands. Three toes and one short claw. I realized its face is too long, and it’s bald…and it has a nose like a skeleton. It let me look at it. I think it liked that I looked at it, at its horrifyingly pale and emaciated form. It let me finish and it stared back like it was doing the same thing, like it was taking in every detail. We finished at the same time and it smiled before it walked away on all fours, slowly, as if it was letting me see how it walked. Like it knew I was curious. It looked at me the whole time. It didn’t blink.
I don’t think it can.
Oh god, that stare….
Day 9:
It was in the corner again this morning. It didn’t move when I saw it, even though I didn’t want to observe it again. It stared at me for over an hour before I realized it was waiting for me to get up. I didn’t want to get up. I pulled the covers closer and moved closer to the wall, but I don’t think it liked that. It reached a long forearm out and hooked a claw into the covers and tore them away from me with a flick of its wrist. I don’t know how it did it, it had no muscles, but it was so strong the speed it pulled it gave me rug burn on my hands where I had grabbed the covers. It waited and left the covers by the bed. It watched me. It watched me until I finally moved to the edge of the bed. It didn’t react, but somehow I felt like it lit up. When I finally managed to stand on quivering legs, I stared at me. It stared from head to foot. Then it smiled and left.
It wanted to see how I looked standing.
It wanted to see all of me.
I don’t like how it stared.
Day 10:
I think it likes that corner. It was there again this morning. This time I didn’t feel as afraid to stand, thinking it would make it leave, but it didn’t. It kept staring, as if expecting me to do something. We stared at each other for a long time before I think it got impatient. It came toward me and I moved toward the end of my bed away from it by pure instinct.
Instead of chasing me, it seemed pleased. But I was in its way. I was frozen in fear in front of the doorway, which was just past the end of my bed so it moved past me, able to make it in the space until it had gotten to its wider hind legs. They bumped into me as it pushed me aside and onto the bed with unexpected force.
Its skin is smooth and slightly slimy.
I curled there shaking for some time.
Day 11:
It wasn’t there today…a simple comfort. However as I got dressed I caught it spying on me. I froze with one arm out of its sleeve and with my pants half up. It kept staring. I tried to ignore it and finished dressing, and when I looked back to the door, worried, it was already gone.
I feel like it has some kind of plan.
The fact it’s intelligent enough to plan makes me nervous.
Day 12:
It wasn’t in the corner again, though I dressed slowly to keep an eye out for it. I almost pray it got what it wanted from watching and left. Unfortunately, I found it waiting in the kitchen expectantly, like a pet. I fled to my room and it followed me, no, chased me, and was suddenly ahead of me, blocking my path and staring at me with its big eyes that showed no emotion, though I knew it was angry. I went to the kitchen and put a raw steak on a plate. It smacked it away into the wall where the meat hit with a sickening splat while the plate shattered, and I flinched as it continued to look at me, though it now seemed disappointed in me for getting its desire wrong. Now tentative, I got out the orange juice and poured a cup, though when I went to offer it to it, it made a low noise, the first I had ever heard, and although it had no tone I somehow realized it was female. She stared at me with the cup until I finally took a timid sip, and she sat there as if pleased. I made toast and eggs. She wanted none of it, only for me to eat. Once I finished she got up and left.
I wonder if she’s trying to fatten me up.
Day 13:
She’s getting progressively further into my life. Today I didn’t see her until after breakfast. I went to go to the bathroom and she was suddenly at my heels, her claws barely missing my ankles as it crept behind me. I kept at a steady pace until I was a step or two from the bathroom before rushing in and slamming the door and locking it. I smiled until, as I sat on the toilet, there was a roar and all six of her big claws tore a hole into the door, letting her in. She sat there with a smile, as if triumphant.
I cried as she watched me, and as usual, she left once I was done.
Day 14:
She followed me out today. I went through my home routine without any sign of her, joyous as I went along my way to school, until I heard it. Her breathing. I don’t know how but I heard it. I looked around in fright and saw her dark eyes watching me from the shadows, and when I stopped, she made that low noise of disapproval. I don’t know how but I heard it and my feet began to move of their own will to school.
She has me trained.
She watched me from what shadows she could find, and I think she was there in the classroom.
Day 15:
I’m starting to understand how she works. I kept an eye out for her all day until school was out, but there was no sign of her. When I got home, as expected, she was waiting for me. She seemed glad that I expected her and waited just as expectantly for me to continue along my routine to the next task: Homework. She sat by my desk and watched me. I almost felt comforted that I understood what she wants now. I’m not sure I like that I’m comforted.
Day 19:
I was right; she followed me throughout the rest of my daily routine step at a time until I went to bed. I’ve started to wonder what she does when she’s not watching me. I think she’s studying me…I wonder if she’s somehow compiling it. I realize that that thought means I believe she’s gathering information on me for other creatures. I slept uneasily.
Day 20:
She’s gone. I didn’t see her, even after I went to bed. I don’t like that I’m worried.
Day 23:
Still no sign of her. Only these entries and the hole in my bathroom door convince me she was actually real. Or I’m going crazy. At this point the latter is starting to seem more reasonable.
Day 24:
I called someone to fix the door. I’m not sure why I hadn’t after she had done it anyway. Or even after she had finished observing my “cleaning” ritual. They said it will take three days.
Day 25:
The man asked a lot of questions about the door hole, saying it looked like someone had taken a hatchet to it. He asked why the hole was so low, and such an odd size. I lied and he gave me a weird look. I told the truth and he gave me a weirder one. When I insisted it was the truth, he threatened me. I’ll be getting someone new to fix the door.
Day 26:
I’m still shaking. She’s back, but something’s different about her. I woke up and found her mouth around my head, a frightening feat, and I saw all of the razor sharp teeth going from the entrance down her throat. My first thought was that she’d come to kill me. My second was to wonder if I was her food. My third, how those teeth functioned in her throat. She eased her mouth off me gently but a tooth nicked my nose. It barely touched me, but it was a horrible gash, and bled hard. She licked it, and her tongue felt like a cat’s. The cut stopped. It still hurts. She seemed satisfied by my frightened appearance and left abruptly.
That night I watched the news. The man who came to fix my door was found killed in his apartment with what they suspected was a hatchet.
She’s warning me.
Day 27:
I woke up to her again, this time on top of me. She’s light but her bones dug into me to awaken me. She stared at me with a smile as I shook and showed me her teeth again. I managed to whimper and she retreated to her corner.
Day 31:
She doesn’t leave me alone now. I learned she doesn’t sleep. I feel her eyes on me wherever I go.
Day 33:
I pet a cat on the street on the way home from school yesterday. Today it was gutted on my kitchen table. She grinned when I threw up.
Day 34:
She was missing for a spell today, and I noticed the closet door open. I felt compelled to look in and I realized that’s where she’s been living. There is a strong smell of death. I’m getting more and more frightened.
Day 37:
For the first time in a long time, she was gone. I spent time with friends. I enjoyed myself. I kissed my boyfriend and hugged him but said nothing of why we hadn’t spent time together.
Day 38:
She cut off his arm. It was in my bed, positioned as if he was caressing me.
I stayed home.
Day 44:
I left the house for the first time in days to see him. He was out of the hospital. He hadn’t spoken to anyone. His first words in days were, “She said ‘my property’,” before he fainted.
Day 47:
She’s become engorged. She leaks a foul smelling liquid that smells like rotting meat. I’m not sure what she’s feeding on.
Day 50:
She spoke to me. She said I can no longer leave.
Day 54:
I’ve run out of food. She saw I didn’t eat and brought me something. It was my friend’s dog.
Day 63:
I tried to go get food and she attacked me. I had three puncture marks in my leg from where she pulled me back inside. I ate the dog.
Day 68:
I cry a lot. I can’t make myself leave my bed. The puncture marks are infected.
Day 69:
I left the bed to clean the punctures. I’ll live. I wish I hadn’t cleaned them but she watched me the whole time.
Day 71:
I read a book and laughed. She got thinner.
Day 72:
I smiled. She seemed upset. It took a while to realize the smell of her was missing.
Day 77:
I know how to kill it.
Day 84:
I’m finally free. After a week’s preparation I managed to approach her while she was moving to the next room and hugged her, her skin slick and greasy from that horrible liquid. She screeched and tried to attack but I was on her back, holding on tight and refusing to give in to fear and give her strength. She ran and I nearly slipped from her speed and that coating, the smell beginning to make me dizzy, but I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and kissed her bald head, feeling the veins pulsing madly. She buckled with a gurgling noise. When I got up those eyes were white, and she didn’t follow me. She’s finally dead.
Day 85:
The body was gone. I find I don’t care why as long as it’s gone.
Day 87:
I woke up to find those claws touching me and immediately hugged the source. A voice laughed. It was male.
“We already know about you. That won’t work twice.”
I can’t stop crying.
Day 189:
They sent me to my first house. The source is a young boy. He wet himself when my claws touched him in his waking hours. It was wonderful.
There's a lesson that you always have to learn
Through the consequence of fire comes the burn
Through the consequence of fire comes the burn
The Grifter
Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving
Smile.Dog
Barbie.Avi
Een aantal filmpjes voor bij het slapengaan
Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving
Smile.Dog
Barbie.Avi
Een aantal filmpjes voor bij het slapengaan
Pogo dancing!
Challance acceptedquote:
[..]
Als jij 'm kan opsporen krijg je 10 internets van mij
Het filmpje valt wel mee, net gekeken.quote:
The Grifter
Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving
Squidwards Suicide. Ik weet niet zeker of het de echte is, want het filmpje is niet helemaal compleet. Het begin mist bijvoorbeeld. Het filmpje komt wel vaak overeen met de beschrijving op de Creepypasta site.
Pogo dancing!
Die zijn ook gewoon niet eng ofzo.quote:
Squidwards Suicide. Ik weet niet zeker of het de echte is, want het filmpje is niet helemaal compleet. Het begin mist bijvoorbeeld. Het filmpje komt wel vaak overeen met de beschrijving op de Creepypasta site.
Komt vaak ook door de beschrijving en de mythe eromheen dat mensen het eng vinden.quote:
[..]
Die zijn ook gewoon niet eng ofzo.
Pogo dancing!
Mijn slaap wat doe je
Op dinsdag 24 april 2012 20:19 schreef Spouwerranger het volgende:
Hmm, ik wist niet dat Kakpizza homo was. Nouja, weer wat geleerd.
Hmm, ik wist niet dat Kakpizza homo was. Nouja, weer wat geleerd.
Smile.dog. heb ik al gepostquote:
[..]
Ja eentje over een hond maar ik ga slapen
* Haifisch doet geheime FGD groet
Pogo dancing!
"Shortest horror story: the last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door" ~ Frederic Brown
Die zag ik net op 9gag.quote:
"Shortest horror story: the last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door" ~ Frederic Brown
Pogo dancing!
Godverdomme, ik schrokquote:
Op vrijdag 24 februari 2012 15:38 schreef Dromenvangertje het volgende:
Sooph is echt zo'n meisje die je wilt knuffelen. Niet schenken, geven of raken.
http://magnificenttttt.tumblr.com
Sooph is echt zo'n meisje die je wilt knuffelen. Niet schenken, geven of raken.
http://magnificenttttt.tumblr.com
Er was eens een man. Hij was 21 jaar oud. Hij zat in zijn woonkamer en zette de radio aan. Er speelde een liedje van Sham69.
Na ongeveer 20 seconden, begon het geluid te vervormen en te verkraken. Hij dacht er niet veel van en zette de radio uit. Dan maar eventjes TV kijken, dacht hij. Hij zette de TV aan op Veronica. Fast and Furious was op TV, leuk!
Maar na 30 seconden, begon het beeld te vervormen en het geluid ook. Opeens ging het beeld op zwart, na 10 seconden begon er een video te spelen.
What the fuck is dit? Dacht hij. Hij wou de TV uitzetten maar dat lukte niet. Hij wou opstaan maar hij zat vastgeplakt aan zijn stoel. Hij kon zijn ogen ook niet sluiten, hij kon gewoonweg niet bewegen. Hij moest het hele filmpje wel afkijken...
Na het filmpje was afgelopen, ging de TV vanzelf uit, net als alle lichten in het huis. Hij kon zich nog steeds niet bewegen. Opeens draaide de stoel naar de muur toe. Er hing een schilderij en voor de rest niks. Het schilderij viel plots van de muur af. Met een grote knal raakte deze de grond. Er begon een licht op de muur te schijnen. Er waren geluiden te horen. Rare vervormde geluiden. Hij vond het creepy. Na ongeveer 1 minuut, kwam er een beeld op de muur. Een raar, wit hoofd. Het geluid bleef doorgaan en het werd steeds harder. Ik heb er toevallig een filmpje van kunnen vinden, na wat zoekwerk.
Zo snel als het hoofd en de geluiden verschenen zo snel waren ze weer beneden. Er kwam rook van de muur af. Er vormden zich letters op de muur. De man kon niet meer ademen. Zijn tong werd vloeibaar en stroomde als een waterval uit zijn mond. Zijn neus begon hevig te bloeden en na een tijdje kwam er een soort geel pus uit. Hij voelde hevige pijnen in zijn schaamstreek, ook in zijn hersens. Toen hij meer dood dan levend was, verbrande zijn hart langzaam van binnen uit. Voor hij stierf kon hij nog net dit bericht lezen:
.EJ DOOD NEE PO EJ GAAJ KI .NEPPOTSREV TEIN EJ NAK EJ RAAM NETHCULV NAK EJ ,NETCHAW ET EJ PO TIZ KI .NAAGREDNO TOL EDFLEZ TEH LAZ TSEEL TID IED NEEREDEI .NENJIHSCREV TENRETNI PO HCSITAMOTUA LAZ THCIREB TID
Na ongeveer 20 seconden, begon het geluid te vervormen en te verkraken. Hij dacht er niet veel van en zette de radio uit. Dan maar eventjes TV kijken, dacht hij. Hij zette de TV aan op Veronica. Fast and Furious was op TV, leuk!
Maar na 30 seconden, begon het beeld te vervormen en het geluid ook. Opeens ging het beeld op zwart, na 10 seconden begon er een video te spelen.
What the fuck is dit? Dacht hij. Hij wou de TV uitzetten maar dat lukte niet. Hij wou opstaan maar hij zat vastgeplakt aan zijn stoel. Hij kon zijn ogen ook niet sluiten, hij kon gewoonweg niet bewegen. Hij moest het hele filmpje wel afkijken...
Na het filmpje was afgelopen, ging de TV vanzelf uit, net als alle lichten in het huis. Hij kon zich nog steeds niet bewegen. Opeens draaide de stoel naar de muur toe. Er hing een schilderij en voor de rest niks. Het schilderij viel plots van de muur af. Met een grote knal raakte deze de grond. Er begon een licht op de muur te schijnen. Er waren geluiden te horen. Rare vervormde geluiden. Hij vond het creepy. Na ongeveer 1 minuut, kwam er een beeld op de muur. Een raar, wit hoofd. Het geluid bleef doorgaan en het werd steeds harder. Ik heb er toevallig een filmpje van kunnen vinden, na wat zoekwerk.
Zo snel als het hoofd en de geluiden verschenen zo snel waren ze weer beneden. Er kwam rook van de muur af. Er vormden zich letters op de muur. De man kon niet meer ademen. Zijn tong werd vloeibaar en stroomde als een waterval uit zijn mond. Zijn neus begon hevig te bloeden en na een tijdje kwam er een soort geel pus uit. Hij voelde hevige pijnen in zijn schaamstreek, ook in zijn hersens. Toen hij meer dood dan levend was, verbrande zijn hart langzaam van binnen uit. Voor hij stierf kon hij nog net dit bericht lezen:
.EJ DOOD NEE PO EJ GAAJ KI .NEPPOTSREV TEIN EJ NAK EJ RAAM NETHCULV NAK EJ ,NETCHAW ET EJ PO TIZ KI .NAAGREDNO TOL EDFLEZ TEH LAZ TSEEL TID IED NEEREDEI .NENJIHSCREV TENRETNI PO HCSITAMOTUA LAZ THCIREB TID
Pogo dancing!
Wauw, ik zit echt rechtop op mijn stoel!11éénquote:
Er was eens een man. Hij was 21 jaar oud. Hij zat in zijn woonkamer en zette de radio aan. Er speelde een liedje van Sham69.
Na ongeveer 20 seconden, begon het geluid te vervormen en te verkraken. Hij dacht er niet veel van en zette de radio uit. Dan maar eventjes TV kijken, dacht hij. Hij zette de TV aan op Veronica. Fast and Furious was op TV, leuk!
Maar na 30 seconden, begon het beeld te vervormen en het geluid ook. Opeens ging het beeld op zwart, na 10 seconden begon er een video te spelen.
What the fuck is dit? Dacht hij. Hij wou de TV uitzetten maar dat lukte niet. Hij wou opstaan maar hij zat vastgeplakt aan zijn stoel. Hij kon zijn ogen ook niet sluiten, hij kon gewoonweg niet bewegen. Hij moest het hele filmpje wel afkijken...
Na het filmpje was afgelopen, ging de TV vanzelf uit, net als alle lichten in het huis. Hij kon zich nog steeds niet bewegen. Opeens draaide de stoel naar de muur toe. Er hing een schilderij en voor de rest niks. Het schilderij viel plots van de muur af. Met een grote knal raakte deze de grond. Er begon een licht op de muur te schijnen. Er waren geluiden te horen. Rare vervormde geluiden. Hij vond het creepy. Na ongeveer 1 minuut, kwam er een beeld op de muur. Een raar, wit hoofd. Het geluid bleef doorgaan en het werd steeds harder. Ik heb er toevallig een filmpje van kunnen vinden, na wat zoekwerk.
Zo snel als het hoofd en de geluiden verschenen zo snel waren ze weer beneden. Er kwam rook van de muur af. Er vormden zich letters op de muur. De man kon niet meer ademen. Zijn tong werd vloeibaar en stroomde als een waterval uit zijn mond. Zijn neus begon hevig te bloeden en na een tijdje kwam er een soort geel pus uit. Hij voelde hevige pijnen in zijn schaamstreek, ook in zijn hersens. Toen hij meer dood dan levend was, verbrande zijn hart langzaam van binnen uit. Voor hij stierf kon hij nog net dit bericht lezen:
.EJ DOOD NEE PO EJ GAAJ KI .NEPPOTSREV TEIN EJ NAK EJ RAAM NETHCULV NAK EJ ,NETCHAW ET EJ PO TIZ KI .NAAGREDNO TOL EDFLEZ TEH LAZ TSEEL TID IED NEEREDEI .NENJIHSCREV TENRETNI PO HCSITAMOTUA LAZ THCIREB TID
Op donderdag 3 maart 2011 19:12 schreef zeross het volgende:
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Mereana mordegard glesgorv, anyone?
quote:"There is a video on Youtube named Mereana mordegard glesgorv. If you search this, you will find nothing. The few times you find something, all you will see is a 20 second video of a man staring intently at you, expressionless, then grinning for the last 2 seconds. The background is undefined. This is only part of the actual video.
"The full video lasts 2 minutes, and was removed by Youtube after 153 people who viewed the video gouged out their eyes and mailed them to Youtube's main office in San Bruno. Said people had also committed suicide in various ways. It is not yet known how they managed to mail their eyes after gouging them out. And the cryptic inscription they carve on their forearms has not yet been deciphered.
"Youtube will periodically put up the first 20 seconds of the video to quell suspicions, so that people will not go look for the real thing and upload it. The video itself was only viewed by one Youtube staff member, who started screaming after 45 seconds. This man is under constant sedatives and is apparently unable to recall what he saw. The other people who were in the same room as him while he viewed it and turned off the video for him say that all they could hear was a high pitched drilling sound. None of them dared look at the screen.
"The person who uploaded the video was never found, the IP address being non-existant. And the man on the video has never been identified."
Dit is Creepy Pasta
You know you are a pilot when...
You drive off a cliff, and your last words are "Gear up!"
You drive off a cliff, and your last words are "Gear up!"
quote:Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:06 schreef MASD het volgende:
Tyfuslijers met schrikplaatjes. Alle cholesterol zo uit mijn aorta geperst.
Sommigen zijn best wel eng maar die met dat dagboek...meh, totaal niks voelde ik er bij.
You are home to watch Pravda on televisir about degenerate murderer who is on the loose. You look out the window door to beet field, and you notice Man standing in the snow. He look like foto on televisir and he smile at you. You gulp vodka, picking up fone to your right and dialing Local Militia Precinct Commissar. Back out the glass you look, pressing fone to ear. Notice he now closer to you. You drop vodka in shock.
No footprints in snow. It was reflection. You dullard!
Your apartment is bulldozed down to make way for glorious tractor factory.
I check into small hotel a few kilometers from Kiev. It is late. I am tired. I tell woman at desk I want a room. She tells me room number and give key. "But one more thing comrade; there is one room without number and always lock. Don't even peek in there." I take key and go to room to sleep. Night comes and I hear trickling of water. It comes from the room across. I cannot sleep so I open door. It is coming from room with no number. I pound on door. No response. I look in keyhole. I see nothing except red. Water still trickling. I go down to front desk to complain. "By the way who is in that room?" She look at me and begin to tell story. There was woman in there. Murdered by her husband. Skin all white, except her eyes, which were red. I tell her I don't give a shit. Stop the water trickling or give me refund. She gave me 100 ruble credit and free breakfast. Such is life in Moscow
No footprints in snow. It was reflection. You dullard!
Your apartment is bulldozed down to make way for glorious tractor factory.
I check into small hotel a few kilometers from Kiev. It is late. I am tired. I tell woman at desk I want a room. She tells me room number and give key. "But one more thing comrade; there is one room without number and always lock. Don't even peek in there." I take key and go to room to sleep. Night comes and I hear trickling of water. It comes from the room across. I cannot sleep so I open door. It is coming from room with no number. I pound on door. No response. I look in keyhole. I see nothing except red. Water still trickling. I go down to front desk to complain. "By the way who is in that room?" She look at me and begin to tell story. There was woman in there. Murdered by her husband. Skin all white, except her eyes, which were red. I tell her I don't give a shit. Stop the water trickling or give me refund. She gave me 100 ruble credit and free breakfast. Such is life in Moscow
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
ja en van je plaatje met romana krijg je geen nacht merrie's ?quote:
Damn. Ik ga zulke harde nachtmerries krijgen nu.
Als je me nodig hebt, DM me , PM vergeet ik altijd op te letten...
eerste keer Gequote door tong80 MothaFockers!.... Meest irritante/gehate leden
Ik ben een trentzetter :D [b]zomaar een topic
Omg :')
eerste keer Gequote door tong80 MothaFockers!.... Meest irritante/gehate leden
Ik ben een trentzetter :D [b]zomaar een topic
Omg :')
Father, I had bad dream"quote:
"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows.
Your clock glows red in the darkness — it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about
it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more
fully. You can barely make out your daughter's
pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not
sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about
the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat
up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take
your eyes off of your daughter. The covers
behind you begin to shift.
You take sip of vodka and roll over. You stare at clocktower on Sobornaya Square. It's 3:23. "Go back to sleep, there is work tomorrow." "No, Father." The familiar warm buzz of vodka starts to sink in. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness. "Why is that, devochka moya?" "Because in my dream, when I was about to go back to sleep, the thing wearing Mother's skin sat up." You pause, and face your daughter and look at her intensely. The figure behind you begins to stir.
"Don't talk that way about your brother, it is not his fault we have no money for coats. Such is life in Moscow."
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Deze is wel legit.
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
The Grifter is een grote trolquote:
The Grifter
Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Durft iemand hem te kijken?quote:
Mereana mordegard glesgorv, anyone?
[..]
Run rabbit, run.
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
Nee er schijnen mensen zelfmoord te hebben gepleegd!11!1eenn!!quote:
:')
Staring contest? Challange acceptedquote:
Mereana mordegard glesgorv, anyone?
[..]
Niet spotten met The Grifter.quote:
Ik kwam hem ooit een keer per toeval tegen, ik keek 3 seconden, toen klikte ik hem weg.
Geloof me, daar kan je niet naar kijken!
Geen garantie.
Waarom herinnert iedereen me steeds aan de grifter
The smell of piss is so strong it smells like decent bacon
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
Ik heb de grifter voor iets van 5 sec gezien... hij duurt serieus 30 seconden maar ik viel flauw
:')
SPOILEROm spoilers te kunnen lezen moet je zijn ingelogd. Je moet je daarvoor eerst gratis Registreren. Ook kun je spoilers niet lezen als je een ban hebt.Gore, klik op eigen risico! Als dit niet hoort mag verwijder ik het.
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Creepy_Images_(Gallery)
Voor creepy afbeeldingen enzo is ^^^^^^^^^ wel een leuke sitePogo dancing!
Trouwens, wat is er precies te zien in The Grifter? Want ik zag de link wel ergens staan maar ik klikte er niet op vanwege het verhaal erachter.
Pogo dancing!
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
Blijf gewoon uit de buurt... nieuwsgierigheid is dodelijk in dit gevalquote:
Trouwens, wat is er precies te zien in The Grifter? Want ik zag de link wel ergens staan maar ik klikte er niet op vanwege het verhaal erachter.
:')
Ok dan zal ik het filmpje niet bekijken. Mag ik een beschrijving wat er te zien is?quote:
[..]
Blijf gewoon uit de buurt... nieuwsgierigheid is dodelijk in dit geval
Pogo dancing!
Ditquote:
[..]
Ok dan zal ik het filmpje niet bekijken. Mag ik een beschrijving wat er te zien is?
Op 29 december 2012 schreef AppelCake het volgende:
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Grifterquote:
[..]
Wacht ik zoek het op op de creepypasta site
Dit kan ik erover vinden ff snel
Pogo dancing!
Ik durf het nu al helemaal niet meer te kijkenquote:
[..]
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Grifter
Dit kan ik erover vinden ff snel
sommige verhaaltjes hier, pff.. vooral die dingen als dat je uitademt je je ziel uitademt blablabla. Ik kan er niet tegen maar toch blijf ik lezen
Ik ga dit op een papiertje schrijven en ergens achterlaten.quote:
Hoe kan ik het beste "wake up" verduidelijken?
quote:GastSPOILEROm spoilers te kunnen lezen moet je zijn ingelogd. Je moet je daarvoor eerst gratis Registreren. Ook kun je spoilers niet lezen als je een ban hebt.Gore, klik op eigen risico! Als dit niet hoort mag verwijder ik het.
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Creepy_Images_(Gallery)
Voor creepy afbeeldingen enzo is ^^^^^^^^^ wel een leuke site
quote:Wtf die foto?SPOILEROm spoilers te kunnen lezen moet je zijn ingelogd. Je moet je daarvoor eerst gratis Registreren. Ook kun je spoilers niet lezen als je een ban hebt.Gore, klik op eigen risico! Als dit niet hoort mag verwijder ik het.
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Creepy_Images_(Gallery)
Voor creepy afbeeldingen enzo is ^^^^^^^^^ wel een leuke siteOp vrijdag 24 februari 2012 15:38 schreef Dromenvangertje het volgende:
Sooph is echt zo'n meisje die je wilt knuffelen. Niet schenken, geven of raken.
http://magnificenttttt.tumblr.com
het was donker in de avond, en ik zat gewonelijk weer op Fok! met mijn ipod, ineens hoorde ik de deur kraken, en zag iets, zo afgrijselijks dat het niet in woorden doch tekens kunnen beschrijft worden, het was DE STOOFSCHOTEL VAN MIJN MOEDER, maargoed ik had al gegeten dus ik duwde het door het raam, ineens hoorde ik : GODVER> AAH FOCK, ik keek, en zag een man met een klein kerstmutsje op, en een vieze baard, (nee het was NIET de kerstman) ik zei wat doet u daar?, maar hij was al weg, hmm? ach ja, er lopen wel vaker zwervers hier rond dacht ik, dacht ik, ondanks dat ik naar mijn bureau liep, werdt er op de deur geklopt, en ik zei binnen, en daar was hij: de man met de vieze baard, en zijn kleren vol met stoofschotel van 6 uur, ik zei; dude, ik heb liever geen zwervers in mijn kamer weetje, kheb een beetje smetvrees, Ik zal jou! zei de zwerver, wat zal je me dan jongen, he kom dan, hij pakte een mes van ongeveer drie en een halve meter, en probeerde me neertesteken, wat niet lukte want ik liep gewoon telkens weg, ik snij je keel door Vuile marokkaan! zei de zwerver en hij pakte een vlindermesje, En gooide die naar mij toe, ik wou hem nog tegen houden, maar het was te laat en ik viel door het raam naar de achtertuin heen, zo, zei de zwerver, nu ga ik allemaal online aankopen doen op zijn laptop, en rekening, ondertussen, had ik het ternauwenood overleeft, omdat het mes ingeklapt tegen mijn slag ader kwam, ik had hoogstens een paar schrammen van de glasscherven die op de grond lagen, en klom omhoog naar binnen, ik ging zachtjes de trap op en zocht naar een wapen, ik kon verdorie niks vinden behalve een kapotte elpee van Elvis (!) "DAT WAS HET zei ik tegen mezelf, als ik die elpee gooi tegen zijn hals of pols, is het gelukt, dus ik deed zachtjes de deur open , en AAHAAHAAAAAAAAH(Terroristen kreet) en gooide de elpee tegen hem, maar hij kwam maar naar zijn kop, en ik had een mum van tijd om de zwerver de doden, dus ik gooide hem op de grond, pakte met me blootte hand zijn oogbal uit z'n kas, pakte de scherven richtte zijn oog op hem, stak de scherven in zijn hoofd en hals en zei voordat hij doodbloedde"ik ben geen marrokkaan!"
einde, ik leefde nog lang en gelukkig en kon alle online aankopen nog ongedaan maken
einde, ik leefde nog lang en gelukkig en kon alle online aankopen nog ongedaan maken
Op woensdag 23 mei 2012 23:14 schreef aspirantspierbundel het volgende: als hij van onder kwam was de wereld omgedraaid
quote:Ik ben er niet van onder de indruk. Wel vage shizz. Een veeskelder en met bloed en gore spelen. Dat je daar van cumt. Zieke mensen bestaan er toch.SPOILEROm spoilers te kunnen lezen moet je zijn ingelogd. Je moet je daarvoor eerst gratis Registreren. Ook kun je spoilers niet lezen als je een ban hebt.Gore, klik op eigen risico! Als dit niet hoort mag verwijder ik het.
http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Creepy_Images_(Gallery)
Voor creepy afbeeldingen enzo is ^^^^^^^^^ wel een leuke site
Ik heb het filmpje net bekeken, die geruchten over mensen die dood gaan en het na 5 seconden al af zetten zijn nep, want ik heb het helemaal gekeken. Het enige wat je ziet is een man die door een donkere omgeving loopt in ik-perspectief, een huilende baby, paar insecten en wat flitsende beelden van iets wat ik niet goed kon zien.quote:
[..]
Ik durf het nu al helemaal niet meer te kijken
Pogo dancing!
Ja het plaatje is inderdaad vaag ja. Ik wil wel weten waar die vandaan komt, ik zocht op google op de term: Skinny man with pig head in front of penis maar ik vond niks.quote:
[..]
Ik ben er niet van onder de indruk. Wel vage shizz. Een veeskelder en met bloed en gore spelen. Dat je daar van cumt. Zieke mensen bestaan er toch.
En die site kan voor sommige mensen creepy zijn, ik vind het namelijk best creepy als ik 's avonds van die weird-ass afbeeldingen zie met rare mensen ofzo.
Pogo dancing!
No shit.quote:
[..]
Ik heb het filmpje net bekeken, die geruchten over mensen die dood gaan en
sinterklaaskapoentje
Wie komt er alle jaren...
quote:
[..]
Ik heb het filmpje net bekeken, die geruchten over mensen die dood gaan en het na 5 seconden al af zetten zijn nep, want ik heb het helemaal gekeken. Het enige wat je ziet is een man die door een donkere omgeving loopt in ik-perspectief, een huilende baby, paar insecten en wat flitsende beelden van iets wat ik niet goed kon zien.
:')
Meen je dit nou serieus of ben je echt dom?quote:
[..]
Ik heb het filmpje net bekeken, die geruchten over mensen die dood gaan en het na 5 seconden al af zetten zijn nep, want ik heb het helemaal gekeken. Het enige wat je ziet is een man die door een donkere omgeving loopt in ik-perspectief, een huilende baby, paar insecten en wat flitsende beelden van iets wat ik niet goed kon zien.
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Nou, ik durfde hem eerst ook niet te kijken hoorquote:
[..]
Meen je dit nou serieus of ben je echt dom?
Op 29 december 2012 schreef AppelCake het volgende:
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
Niet weten dat The Grifter een grote hoax isquote:
[..]
Nou, ik durfde hem eerst ook niet te kijken hoor
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Hoax?quote:
[..]
Niet weten dat The Grifter een grote hoax is
Op 29 december 2012 schreef AppelCake het volgende:
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
hoax (hks)quote:
Op n.
1. An act intended to deceive or trick.
2. Something that has been established or accepted by fraudulent means.
tr.v. hoaxed, hoax·ing, hoax·es
To deceive or cheat by using a hoax.
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Nu snap ik er nog geen kut vanquote:Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:06 schreef 2Happy4U het volgende:
[..]
hoax (hks)
n.
1. An act intended to deceive or trick.
2. Something that has been established or accepted by fraudulent means.
tr.v. hoaxed, hoax·ing, hoax·es
To deceive or cheat by using a hoax.
Op 29 december 2012 schreef AppelCake het volgende:
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
Mensen in de maling nemen, laten we het daarop houden.quote:
Women with dicks and weak men with vaginas.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Alles hat ein Ende nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Is wel goed gemaakt, maar vind het een beetje op The Ring lijkenquote:
[..]
Mensen in de maling nemen, laten we het daarop houden.
alleen dan zonder zwartwit-beeld
Op 29 december 2012 schreef AppelCake het volgende:
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
ch0c0l0c0 Je bent mijn lieve hoer, ik kan niet meer zonder je! wjnmk nwly!
Samen met ginger en kerstsnol nemen wij de wereld over, pr0nfilms maken en meer en meer chickies hosselen.
| Forum Opties | |
|---|---|
| Forumhop: | |
| Hop naar: | |