quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:51 schreef Verbodsbord het volgende:
Post het dan in het Engels, dat het misschien nog creepy klinkt

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:53 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:55 schreef Verbodsbord het volgende:

[..]

Hmm hij is nog steeds een beetje matig

http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/

Hier staat wel redelijk wat.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:56 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Post er is een paar dan

quote:

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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:58 schreef Oerbeer het volgende:

[..]

Smeg Ik stikte in mijn bami

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:58 schreef smegmanus het volgende:

[..]

Je moet ook niet op maandag bami eten.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:01 schreef SjaakKlapkaak het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:01 schreef SjaakKlapkaak het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

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?

quote:

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:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:19 schreef Trollscience het volgende:

[..]

Heb je hem afgetrokken? Homo

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:19 schreef MonteCristo het volgende:

[..]

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?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:01 schreef SjaakKlapkaak het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:15 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:48 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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......

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:52 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Bravo!! Brava!!

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:55 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:59 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:59 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 20:29 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 20:41 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.”

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:20 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:20 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:24 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Hoe post je plaatjes via mobiel?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:24 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Mag dat niet dan?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:40 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:42 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Verhalen plus afbeelding van het verhaal. Dan is het pas creepy.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 21:56 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Ja dat is wel een goeie combinatie 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?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:00 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Tuurlijk, alles om deze topic in leven te houden

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:10 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:13 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Je hebt een wachtwoord nodig om op die site te kunnen.

In mijn volgende post, een verhaal van totaal 25 afbeeldingen.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:13 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

/x/

Ja, 4chan, ik weet pedo blabla maar ik zit niet op /b/ alleen op /x/ (paranormal) sommige dingen daar zijn best creepy.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:14 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

Wat is deze?
Eng, wel.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:15 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Monsters en Co?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:14 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:17 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Of van die kutfilmpjes waar je naar iets moet staren en dan uit het niets een eng gezicht tevoorschijn komt met een gil.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:17 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Of van die kutfilmpjes waar je naar iets moet staren en dan uit het niets een eng gezicht tevoorschijn komt met een gil.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:18 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:18 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:20 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Jaweeeeeeell!!

Zet ze maar in spoiler ofzo

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:20 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:22 schreef Hammer-of-Thor het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]
Een serieuze dan, neem de tijd deze te lezen, zo vet: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Russian_Sleep_Experiment

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:22 schreef Hammer-of-Thor het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]
Een serieuze dan, neem de tijd deze te lezen, zo vet: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Russian_Sleep_Experiment

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:42 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
Ik heb expres die opgehangen baby's niet gepost kom jij er mee aanzetten.
Maarja dan kan deze er ook wel bij:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:43 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:45 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Vond ik een beetje té als het eigenlijk om de verhalen gaat. Ja ik zit op /x/.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:49 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
Ik ga nu over op mobiel dus ik post geen plaatjens meer.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:50 schreef Tante-Leen het volgende:
Ik heb dat dagboek gelezen maar ik snap het niet helemaal, kan iemand het uitleggen? *blond*

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:52 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:
Zonder verhaal of tekst doen die plaatjes mij niks eigenlijk..

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:53 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Kijk een post hoger, tekst met plaatje.

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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:57 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Gewoon opgehangen kinderen. Het idee dat iemand kinderen ophangt hoort als ziek en eng over te komen.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:52 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Bedtijd?

[..]

Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.

Nieuw plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:52 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Bedtijd?

[..]

Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:02 schreef Tante-Leen het volgende:

[..]

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 En dat I know I know

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:50 schreef Hammer-of-Thor het volgende:
Dat dagboek is zo vet hè.
Ook een aanrader: http://www.creepypasta.com/candle-cove/

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 22:52 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Bedtijd?

[..]

Ze heeft een boek gelezen waarin vreselijke dingen omschreven worden, daarna wordt ze gek.

Nieuw plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:11 schreef Vijf_voor het volgende:

[..]

Is er nog wat te zien op die foto?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:12 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Voor sommige mensen wel.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:14 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Hoe bedoel je?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:16 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Sommige mensen zien the wanderer wel, andere niet.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:08 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

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:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:19 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
Dit is ook een goede, tekst met plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:19 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
Dit is ook een goede, tekst met plaatje:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:12 schreef antidood1 het volgende:
Deze blijft creepy
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:31 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

I don't get it..

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:43 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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".

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:46 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:49 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:46 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:12 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
Waarom kan ik hier niet wegblijven AAAAAH

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 01:22 schreef glaba het volgende:
Reeks?

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 08:14 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 13:24 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 15:31 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

Goeie!
Ookal zijn ze 's avonds 3x enger dan overdag.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:20 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:37 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:

[..]

Heb ik al eerder gepost geloof ik toch?
Post er nog een!

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 21:02 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

HOLY SHIT

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 21:08 schreef Tante-Leen het volgende:

[..]

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:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 21:18 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Schrok jij je niet dood dan?

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 21:25 schreef Tante-Leen het volgende:

[..]

Heb ik misschien iets gemist ofzo? Omdat ik op de ipod zit ofzo?

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

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......

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:31 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

Waarom schrok iedereen? Ik zit op iPod. Ik vond hem niet heel eng of zo.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:32 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Op iPod doet ie het niet goed.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:33 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

Beweegt het ook dan?

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:39 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

ja

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:09 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 21:26 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

Ja, ga hem nog maar eens lezen met de computer.

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 08:03 schreef Jadusable het volgende:
Wat is dit gay zeg

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 22:39 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:

[..]

ja

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 08:12 schreef TrollenFTW het volgende:

[..]

Geen fantasie hebben.

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 18:02 schreef kevin66166 het volgende:

[..]

Vandaar dat ik hem ook wel mee vond vallen, want ik zit op ipad

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 18:02 schreef kevin66166 het volgende:

[..]

Vandaar dat ik hem ook wel mee vond vallen, want ik zit op ipad

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 08:03 schreef Jadusable het volgende:
Wat is dit gay zeg

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 21:55 schreef Hammer-of-Thor het volgende:

[..]

Zegt degene die zich Jadusable noemt.
(de auteur van 'The Haunted Majora's Mask Cartridge, a.k.a. BEN')

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 23:07 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 23:37 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
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.

quote:

Op woensdag 12 oktober 2011 23:12 schreef Jadusable het volgende:

[..]

No shit bro

quote:

Op donderdag 13 oktober 2011 15:09 schreef Mr.117 het volgende:
-verhaal-

quote:

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.

quote:

Op donderdag 13 oktober 2011 15:17 schreef internal het volgende:

[..]

Die is al best oud en toch blijft het een goed verhaal Ik zit nou ook te zoeken naar goede kortere pasta's maar daar zijn er niet zo veel van

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Op donderdag 13 oktober 2011 23:04 schreef frits22 het volgende:
-saai die verhaaltjes

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Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:28 schreef OhGawd het volgende:
Eigenlijk moet ik dit soort dingen niet lezen voordat ik naar bed ga, maar ik kan het echt niet laten.

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Op zondag 16 oktober 2011 23:08 schreef PiepZeiDeMuis het volgende:
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/2010/09/majora.html

veel plezier

quote:

Op zondag 16 oktober 2011 23:08 schreef PiepZeiDeMuis het volgende:
http://inuscreepystuff.blogspot.com/2010/09/majora.html

veel plezier

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 02:04 schreef computerprobleem het volgende:
De FGD heeft het topic gevonden en achterhaald!

Bazentopic dit, zocht het al een tijdje.

Weet iemand meer van zulke verhalen?

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:01 schreef SjaakKlapkaak het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 03:54 schreef MarokkaanseKip het volgende:
Ik zweer dat ik iets hoor nu

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 03:59 schreef MarokkaanseKip het volgende:
geesten bestaan ja

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 04:06 schreef BradleyQ het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 04:06 schreef Hooidraad het volgende:

[..]

Ik geef toe, bij dat eerste moment stopte ik even met ademen.

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 04:10 schreef Moonwalk het volgende:
waarom heet het creepy pasta

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 04:10 schreef Moonwalk het volgende:
waarom heet het creepy pasta

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 04:06 schreef Hooidraad het volgende:

[..]

Ik geef toe, bij dat eerste moment stopte ik even met ademen.

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 03:54 schreef MarokkaanseKip het volgende:
Ik zweer dat ik iets hoor nu

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 12:24 schreef Crutch het volgende:

[..]

Godver, ik scrollde er even doorheen, brrr.
Toen ging het verhaal nog verder en bam!

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.

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 12:29 schreef computerprobleem het volgende:

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Best garpig toch?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 12:34 schreef sinterklaaskapoentje het volgende:
Creepypasta

vermiste zieke episodes van cartoons... Ouder topic

[ afbeelding ][ afbeelding ]

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 19:17 schreef kevin66166 het volgende:

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Weet iemand waar je die aflevering kan zien

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 19:34 schreef sinterklaaskapoentje het volgende:

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die is natuurlijk vermist

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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.

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 18:20 schreef sinterklaaskapoentje het volgende:
ja nu heb ik alles gelezen

nog wat verhalen dan:

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 20:34 schreef kevin66166 het volgende:

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Met internet op deze wereld, sure

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 12:24 schreef Crutch het volgende:

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Godver, ik scrollde er even doorheen, brrr.
Toen ging het verhaal nog verder en bam!

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Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 20:25 schreef Phenom4Ever het volgende:
Kak... Zelfs ik kreeg hier rillingen van

http://comic.naver.com/we(...)17&no=31&weekday=thu

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Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:28 schreef OhGawd het volgende:
Eigenlijk moet ik dit soort dingen niet lezen voordat ik naar bed ga, maar ik kan het echt niet laten.

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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.

quote:

Op maandag 14 november 2011 21:54 schreef sinterklaaskapoentje het volgende:

[..]

Als jij 'm kan opsporen krijg je 10 internets van mij

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Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 17:55 schreef kevin66166 het volgende:

[..]

Challance accepted

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Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 13:50 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
The Grifter

^{Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving}

quote:

Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 18:13 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

Squidward's suicide - REAL VIDEO

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.

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Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 21:13 schreef Eerste10uurVrij het volgende:

[..]

Die zijn ook gewoon niet eng ofzo.

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Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 13:50 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
The Grifter

Little Otik :: Trailer

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Op maandag 14 november 2011 02:11 schreef Haifisch het volgende:

[..]

Ja eentje over een hond maar ik ga slapen
* Haifisch doet geheime FGD groet

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Op maandag 12 december 2011 19:15 schreef Huftertje het volgende:
"Shortest horror story: the last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door" ~ Frederic Brown

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Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 19:01 schreef SjaakKlapkaak het volgende:
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op maandag 12 december 2011 21:03 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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.

Sham 69 - Hey Little Rich Boy

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.

Follow Me

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.

creepy pasta " go to sleep "

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

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."

Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv

quote:

Op dinsdag 11 oktober 2011 23:06 schreef MASD het volgende:
Tyfuslijers met schrikplaatjes. Alle cholesterol zo uit mijn aorta geperst.

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Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 18:55 schreef coban het volgende:
Damn. Ik ga zulke harde nachtmerries krijgen nu.

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Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 20:18 schreef SpaceMouse het volgende:
"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.

quote:

Op dinsdag 15 november 2011 13:50 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
The Grifter

^{Ik durf het filmpje niet te bekijken, vanwege de omschrijving}

quote:

Op maandag 12 december 2011 21:36 schreef Robbiee het volgende:
Mereana mordegard glesgorv, anyone?

[..]

Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv

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Op woensdag 4 januari 2012 22:27 schreef Expression het volgende:

[..]

Durft iemand hem te kijken?

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Op maandag 12 december 2011 21:36 schreef Robbiee het volgende:
Mereana mordegard glesgorv, anyone?

[..]

Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv

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Op woensdag 4 januari 2012 21:26 schreef 2Happy4U het volgende:

[..]

The Grifter is een grote trol

SPOILER

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:08 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:
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.

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:10 schreef sinterklaaskapoentje het volgende:

[..]

Blijf gewoon uit de buurt... nieuwsgierigheid is dodelijk in dit geval

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:11 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Ok dan zal ik het filmpje niet bekijken. Mag ik een beschrijving wat er te zien is?

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:13 schreef ch0c0l0c0 het volgende:

[..]

Dit

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:18 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Wacht ik zoek het op op de creepypasta site

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:19 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/The_Grifter
Dit kan ik erover vinden ff snel

quote:

Op maandag 10 oktober 2011 23:12 schreef antidood1 het volgende:
Deze blijft creepy
[ afbeelding ]

quote:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:07 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

SPOILER

[ afbeelding ]

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:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:07 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

SPOILER

[ afbeelding ]

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:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 00:07 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

SPOILER

[ afbeelding ]

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:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 05:49 schreef Snowbells het volgende:

[..]

Ik durf het nu al helemaal niet meer te kijken

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 13:40 schreef Oerbeer het volgende:

[..]

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.

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 16:08 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

Ik heb het filmpje net bekeken, die geruchten over mensen die dood gaan en

quote:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 16:08 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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:

Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 16:08 schreef Crocodi1e het volgende:

[..]

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.

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:00 schreef 2Happy4U het volgende:

[..]

Meen je dit nou serieus of ben je echt dom?

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:03 schreef ch0c0l0c0 het volgende:

[..]

Nou, ik durfde hem eerst ook niet te kijken hoor

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:04 schreef 2Happy4U het volgende:

[..]

Niet weten dat The Grifter een grote hoax is

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:06 schreef ch0c0l0c0 het volgende:

[..]

Hoax?

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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.

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:08 schreef ch0c0l0c0 het volgende:

[..]

Nu snap ik er nog geen kut van

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Op vrijdag 6 januari 2012 18:09 schreef 2Happy4U het volgende:

[..]

Mensen in de maling nemen, laten we het daarop houden.