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Creepy
May 10, 2009 13:42:58 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 10, 2009 13:42:58 GMT 10
My Last Breath! It's there - just at the veil of sleep. That dull sensation of falling or spinning just before you fall to sleep. The next time you go to bed, try to hold yourself there. Just as you drift off, hold onto that feeling. Hold on, and listen. Listen close, for you cannot hold onto that edge of sleep for long. There, in the space before sleep, is a sound: a gentle hum, a distant echo; like a sigh in a brick building. Listen well, and remember that sound. That is the sound of your last breath.
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Creepy
May 10, 2009 13:43:39 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 10, 2009 13:43:39 GMT 10
One morning in 1986, Chernobyl's reactor #4 exploded, spreading radioactive fallout across Ukraine. At least, that’s the official story. The true story is one of the greatest cover-ups history has ever known. In the late 1960s, a small group of people discovered a hole in the ground in the Chernobyl area, and, curious, descended into it. They returned and told their friends of an immense underground cavern. A few days later, these people, along with a few additional helpers, packed whatever hiking gear they could get their hands on, as well as some makeshift climbing gear that was comprised of little more than old ropes and small pulleys. The group was not heard from again. After their disappearance, a rescue team was sent to search for them. Only a few members returned to the surface. The rescue team had advanced in increments, with one portion of the team remaining farther behind while the other continued inwards. The few survivors had been in one of the groups hanging behind. They were badly shaken (one was later institutionalized), and were not entirely sure of what they had seen. As time progressed, they began to rationalize the experience, and details became even less clear. They all were able to agree on a few things, though: they had entered what initially appeared to be a small cave that quickly expanded into a massive cavern. Past that, it expanded into what appeared to be giant, bottomless expanse. The cavern continued in many directions, and the team’s progress was very slow. At this point, their accounts become uncertain. At first officials thought perhaps they had hallucinated, or were simply shaken by the immensity of the cavern and had become easily influenced by vague impressions and half-seen likenesses in rocks and stalagmites. But some of the details were too coincidental to have been mere hallucinations. Whatever the case, one thing was certain: The rest of the team was dead. If any had survived whatever horrors they suddenly encountered, they were far beyond help inside that chasm. Construction of the nuclear power plant began in 1970. The plant itself was operational, including reactor #4. Underneath it, however, the Russian military was establishing a bare-bones base of operations to explore the vast expanse that had been uncovered beneath the area. Over the years, this base became better equipped, and expeditions began to push farther inside the cavern. It was eventually revealed to be a massive network of deep chasms and caves. Some were so deep that the military had yet to find a bottom. Details were wisely hidden from the public. Despite the training given to exploration teams sent into the network, and despite the fact that the teams sent in were progressively more heavily armed, many people still disappeared inside the network. Details are fuzzy, but it is apparent that some were lost in the network’s vast expanses. Some fell to their deaths. Others were trapped or lost on treks into unexplored areas. Others still died more… questionable deaths. Very few corpses were recovered from disastrous expeditions, and some that were brought back were damaged in such a way that suggested mauling. Stories abounded of explorers being *taken* by vaguely described creatures. Morale was maintained on the base, but barely, or at the cost of mental stability. However regular proceedings were within the base, there were always whispers in dark corners of indescribable expanses, strange architectures, and things, movements, viewed out of the corners of eyes. Over the years that the base was in full operation, many things were taken from The Network. (It was officially named such in 1975, the name obviously stemming from a burst of subtle creativity on the part of the Soviet military.) Over the years, photographs and accounts of some of the data recovered from the Network have been leaked, particularly after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. A number of artifacts, some appearing to be ancient, were taken back to Chernobyl from deep within the Network. Rumors of these objects are not entirely common, but there are stories of ancient urns and containers with bizarre carvings on the side. Some are supposed to still contain substances, though some of these materials have not been identified, even by modern equipment. Other stories involve tomes and manuscripts written in unknown languages, some written on what appears to be (now petrified) human flesh. Others still are photographs of bizarre, and clearly artificial, architectural features sticking out of the rock. Some feature bas-reliefs of strange rituals and even stranger creatures. Oddly, the depictions on the relief match some of the unsettling tales of violent and deadly encounters that explorers brought out of the Network with them. One strange, and highly classified, report was leaked in the early 90s. It involved what almost looked like a small temple, surrounded by paltry stone dwellings. Photographs show the temple walls covered with depictions of sacrifice and of terrific acts of violence. Some have been damaged by time, while others are inconceivable in nature, depicting bizarre worship and vague acts of what can only be described as transformation. No organic remains were found nearby. In the center, however, is a strange mechanism that appears to be a door of some sort. There are photographs of explorers working various parts of the stone contraption, and even of a cracked door, nothing but inky blackness beyond the gap in the stone. What follows are a few blurry pictures showing movement and splashes of unsettling colors, and pictures of explorers bearing bizarre wounds. Others still have been dismembered or disemboweled. Large portions of typed reports are missing, but what does exist chronicles the discovery. After the date stamped on the more disturbing pictures, the report indicates that exploration of that particular area ceased, and a stern warning that the temple was never to be opened again. In late 1985/early 1986, a series of incidents took place at the base. Disappearances of personnel inside the cavern spiked suddenly, and there were even a small number of security breaches within the base itself. Details of these incidents are highly classified and guarded by the Russian government to this day. However, it is believed that organic matter was recovered from these breaches. Mental stability plummeted among explorers returning from deeper and longer pushes into the Network. In April 1986, reports indicate that there was a sudden, and urgent, recommendation by some of the officers at the base that the Network be sealed off from the outside. On April 26th, the Soviet government demolished reactor #4, seeding the blast with radioactive material. The entire region was seeded, and later evacuated. Reactor 4 was sealed in a concrete sarcophagus on the surface. Underneath, many of the military base’s functions were shut down. Barriers between the surface and the greater Network were erected. There is still believed to still be a small presence at the base below Chernobyl, and it is speculated that periodic expeditions are made into the Network itself, though these are thought to only be of areas already documented and near to the surface. No deep treks have been made in years, and some areas deep inside the network underwent hasty demolition to seal them from known passages to the surface.
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Creepy
May 10, 2009 13:45:11 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 10, 2009 13:45:11 GMT 10
Here's the story of the Jersey Devil. The historic states along America’s Atlantic Seaboard have given birth to hundreds of ghostly tales and unusual stories over the years. One of the strangest is undoubtedly that of the Jersey Devil, a creature that is believed by some to be a mythical creature and by others, a real-life monster of flesh and blood. Its origins date back to when New Jersey was still a British colony. According to the legend, Mrs. Jane Leeds came from a poor family who eked out an existence in the Pine Barrens of Jersey, a rugged place with vast forests, sandy soil and patches of swamp. In 1735, Mrs. Leeds discovered that she was pregnant with her 13th child. She complained to her friends and relatives that the “Devil can take the next one”, and he did. When the baby was born, he was monster! He immediately took on a grotesque appearance and grew to more than 20 feet long, with a reptilian body, a horse’s head, bat wings and a long, forked tail. He thrashed about the Leeds home for a bit and then vanished up the chimney. The creature, or the “Jersey Devil” as he was dubbed, began haunting the Pine Barrens. The New Jersey Pine Barrens As the story spread, even grown men declined to venture out at night. It was said that the beast carried off large dogs, geese, cats, small livestock and even occasional children. The children were never seen again, but the animal remains were often found. The Devil was also said to dry up the milk of cows by breathing on them and to kill off the fish in the streams, threatening the livelihood of the entire region. In 1740, the frightened residents begged a local minister to exorcize the creature and the stories stated that the exorcism would last 100 years, however the Devil returned to the Pine Barrens on at least two occasions before the century was over. Legend has it that naval hero Commodore Stephen Decatur visited the Hanover Iron Works in the Barrens in 1800 to test the plant’s cannonballs. One day on the firing range, he noticed a strange creature winging overhead. Taking aim, he fired at the monster and while some say that his shot struck it, the Devil continued on its path.
A Map of Jersey Devil Sightings The second sighting took place a few years later and this time the Devil was seen by another respected witness. Joseph Bonaparte, the former king of Spain and the brother of Napoleon, leased a country house near Bordertown from 1816 to 1839. He reported seeing the Jersey Devil while hunting game one day in the Pine Barrens. In 1840, as the minister warned, the Devil returned and brought terror to the region once again. It snatched sheep from their pens and preyed on children who lingered outside after sunset. People all across South Jersey locked their doors and hung a lantern on the doorstep, hoping to keep the creature away. The stories continued to be told and the lore of the Devil was recalled throughout the 1800’s, although actual sightings of the creature were few. Then, in 1909, the Jersey Devil returned again and literally thousands of people spotted the monster or saw his footprints. It became so bad that schools closed and people refused to go outside. A police officer named James Sackville spotted the monster while walking his beat one night. He was passing along a dark alley when a winged creature hopped into the street and let out a horrific scream. Sackville fired his revolver at the beast but it spread its wings and vanished into the air. In spite of the sightings, the beast was always considered a regional legend until the bizarre flap in 1909, which even the most skeptical researchers admit contains authentic elements of the unexplained. Many people saw the creature during the month of January, including E.W. Minster, the postmaster of Bristol, Pennsylvania, which is just over the New Jersey border. He stated that he awoke around 2:00 in the morning and heard an “eerie, almost supernatural” sound coming from the direction of the Delaware River. He looked out the window and saw what looked to be a “large crane” that was flying diagonally and emitting a curious glow. The creature had a long neck that was thrust forward in flight, thin wings, long back legs and shorter ones in the front. The creature let out a combination of a squawk and a whistle and then disappeared into the darkness. Sightings continued. On January 19, 1909, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Evans were awakened in the early morning by the sound of a large animal on the roof of their shed. They described it as: “about three and a half feet high, with a face like a collie and a head like a horse. It had a long neck, wings about two feet long and its back legs were like those of a crane and it had horse’s hooves. It walked on its back legs and held up two short front legs with paws on them.” One afternoon of that same week, a Mrs. J.H, White was taking clothes off her line when she noticed a strange creature huddled in the corner of her yard. She screamed and fainted and her husband rushed out the back door to find his wife on the ground and the Devil close by, “spurting flames”. She chased the monster with a clothesline prop and it leapt over the fence and vanished. A short time later, the creature struck again. This time, it attacked a dog belonging to Mrs. Mary Sorbinski in south Camden. When she heard the cry of her pet in the darkness, she dashed outside and drove the Devil away with a broom. The creature fled, but not before tearing a chunk of flesh from the dog. Mrs. Sorbinski carried her wounded pet inside and immediately called the police. By the time that patrolmen arrived, a crowd of more than 100 people were gathered at the house. The crowd was witness to the piercing screams that suddenly erupted from nearby. The police officers emptied their revolvers at the shadow that loomed against the night sky, but the Devil escaped once again. Eyewitness accounts of the Devil filled the newspapers, as well as photos and reports of cloven footprints that had been found in yards, woods and parking lots. The Philadelphia Zoo offered a $10,000 reward for the capture of the Devil, but there were no takers. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the Devil vanished again. The creature did not return again until 1927. A cab driver was changing a tire one night while headed for Salem. He had just finished when his car began shaking violently. He looked up to see a gigantic, winged figure pounding on the roof of his car. The driver, leaving his jack and flat tire behind, jumped into the car and quickly drove away. He reported the encounter to the Salem police. In August 1930, berry pickers at Leeds Point and Mays Landing reported seeing the Devil, crashing through the fields and devouring blueberries and cranberries. It was reported again two weeks later to the north and then it disappeared again. In November 1951, a group of children were allegedly cornered by the Devil at the Duport Clubhouse in Gibbstown. The creature bounded away without hurting anyone but reports claimed that it was spotted by dozens of witnesses before finally vanishing again. Sightings continued here and there for years and then peaked once more in 1960 when bloodcurdling cries terrorized a group of people near Mays Landing. State officials tried to calm the nervous residents but no explanation could be found for the weird sounds. Policemen nailed signs and posters everywhere stating that the Jersey Devil was a hoax, but curiosity-seekers flooded into the area anyway. Harry Hunt, who owned the Hunt Brothers Circus, offered $100,000 for the capture of the beast, hoping to add it to his sideshow attractions. Needless to say, the monster was never snared. The most recent sighting of the creature was said to have been in 1993 when a forest ranger named John Irwin was driving along the Mullica River in southern New Jersey. He was startled to find the road ahead of him blocked by the Jersey Devil. He described it as being about six-feet tall with horns and matted black fur. Could this have been the reported Jersey Devil - or some other creature altogether? Irwin stated that he and the creature stared at one another for several minutes before the monster finally turned and ran into the forest. Today, there are only a few, isolated sightings of the Jersey Devil. It seems as though the paved roads, electric lights and modern conventions that have come to the region over the course of two and a half centuries have driven the monster so far into hiding that it has vanished altogether. The lack of proof of the monster’s existence in these modern times leads many to believe the Devil was nothing more than a creation of New Jersey folklore. But was it really? If it was merely a myth, then how do we explain the sightings of the creature and the witness accounts from reliable persons like businessmen, police officers and even public officials? They are not easy to dismiss as hearsay or the result of heavy drinking. Could the Jersey Devil have been real after all? And if so, is it still out there in the remote regions of the Pine Barrens - just waiting to be found?
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Creepy
May 10, 2009 13:46:12 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 10, 2009 13:46:12 GMT 10
A few small ones Coffins used to be built with holes in them, attached to six feet of copper tubing and a bell. The tubing would allow air for victims buried under the mistaken impression they were dead. Harold, the Oakdale gravedigger, upon hearing a bell, went to go see if it was children pretending to be spirits. Sometimes it was also the wind. This time it wasn’t either. A voice from below begged, pleaded to be unburied. “You Sarah O’Bannon?” Yes! The voice assured. “You were born on September 17, 1827?” "Yes!" “The gravestone here says you died on February 19?” "No I'm alive, it was a mistake! Dig me up, set me free!" “Sorry about this, ma’am,” Harold said, stepping on the bell to silence it and plugging up the copper tube with dirt. “But this is August. Whatever you is down there, you ain’t alive no more, and you ain’t comin’ up.”
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
You 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.
Leon Czolgosz, assassin of William McKinley, the the 25th President of the United States, was electrocuted for his crime on October 29, 1901, at Auburn Prison in Auburn, New York. Among the personal effects found in his cell was a U.S. quarter stamped with the date 2218. The face in profile on said quarter was not George Washington, but rather a face which has yet to be identified.
Every family in every town in every country on every continent has one. It’s a cabinet, not particularly odd, not out of place. The paint was peeling a bit on the corners and the knob was a bit loose. The inside smelled like dust and the paint wasn’t the same as the kitchen walls. You hid in there once during a game of hide ‘n’ seek. No one told you it doesn’t open back into your reality. Don’t worry, you can’t tell the difference. But everyone misses you Two 18 wheeler trucks were on a highway. The two trucks smashed into each other and all the people died. They took the trucks to the junkyard. A day later, it started to smell. It got worse every day. Finally they took apart the fused trucks and found a VW beetle with the passengers still in there, dead.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 16:28:26 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 16:28:26 GMT 10
Very nice Cassie. When's the next one coming out?
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 16:41:41 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 16:41:41 GMT 10
Soon!
Look up creepy pasta to get other ones!
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:06:51 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 17:06:51 GMT 10
Nah. I'll wait for yours. Yours are better. They seem more you.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:09:34 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:09:34 GMT 10
LOL! Okay!
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:10:53 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:10:53 GMT 10
The Smith Sisters.
I made this up but ppl can send this as chain mail.
This is a story about the Smith sisters who were murdered anonymously while they slept in their bedroom. Its an urban legend about a boy named John Smith who was very fond of scary emails and popups. Every day, he would find new ones and post them to everyone he knew. He even started making some himself and sending them to strangers. He loved to scare people on the Net. John lived in Plainfield, Wisconsin. One day in November 2007, he opened up his Inbox and found a message that appeared to be from two young girls. They called themselves the gSmith Sistersh and told him they were his older sisters, which confused him because he was an only child. They said that years ago, they had lived in his house. He replied, saying he didnft have any sisters and told them to get lost and leave him alone. The next day, he received a chilling message with some photo attachments. The first photo was of two young girls. The caption on it said Smith Sisters murdered anonymously. The girls said in the email that they were indeed his older sisters. They told him that in 1993 they had lived in his house. His bedroom had once been their bedroom. They told him all about growing up and about their lives and how happy they had been until one horrible night. He opened up the other attachment. It was a scan of an old newspaper article. gIn 1993, two sisters were brutally murdered in the small-town community of Plainfield, Wisconsin. Lisa Smith, 19 and her sister, Sarah Smith, 15 were attacked in their parentfs home on the night of November 17th, around 1:30AM. The Smith Sisters were lying in bed when a crazed killer broke into the house. No-one heard them scream. In the morning, their parents found the dead bodies of the Smith Sisters hidden in the bedroom closet. They had been skinned alive. The killer was long gone and no trace of him could be found. They had been murdered anonymously. Police conducted an extensive investigation, but to no avail. The motives for the attack were never discovered, nor was the attacker ever found. The only lead athorities had was a series of strange emails found in Lisafs computer. The case was closed in October of 2000.h In the rest of the email, the sisters said that they were angry that the case was closed and people forgot about them. They were angry that their parents wanted to forget about them too. They were angry that their parents decided to start over and had a new baby. A little boy named John. They were angry that their parents had never mentioned their daughters or their tragic murder to their new son John. John Smith, sent an angry reply saying he didnt believe what they were saying. He didnt believe the Smith Sisters were really related to him and he didnt believe the newspaper article was real. He told them to go to hell. Five minutes later, he got another email from them. It said If you dont believe us, look in the bedroom closet. That was the last email that was found on Johns computer. Police were unable to trace who had sent the messages to him. On the floor of the closet, the police found a faint message, carved in the wood. It simply read Lisa and Sarah - 1993. Underneath that, was another carving that read John 2007. No-one knows what John did next, but in the morning, Johns parents woke up to find their son missing. Then they checked his bedroom closet and got the shock of their lives. There they found the dead body of their son. He had been skinned alive. No-one knows what really happened that night. Police were only able to piece together parts of the story based on what they found on Johns computer. The parents were devastated. How could this happen to a family. First their daughters were murdered. And now years later their son is murdered. It seemed too weird to be just a coincidence. Two sisters are murdered and then years later, their brother is murdered in exactly the same way, in exactly the same place. And the only evidence left behind is a few scary emails…Makes you wonder.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:11:56 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:11:56 GMT 10
The creepy clown!
An urban ledgend i like:
A couple with children were trying out a new babysitter. About an hour after they left for a night on the town, they realized they had forgotten to give her their cell phone number, so one of them called her. After she wrote down the number, the babysitter asked if she could watch satellite TV in their bedroom. She had just put the children to bed and wanted to watch a particular show. (The parents didn't want their children watching too much garbage, so the living room TV did not have satellite channels.) Well of course she could watch TV in their room, they replied. The babysitter had one other request: could she put a sheet or blanket over the clown statue that was in the bedroom? It kind of made her nervous. Take the children and go to the neighbors, said whichever parent was talking to her. We'll call the police. We don't have a clown statue. The police caught the clown as he was running through the neighborhood.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:12:59 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:12:59 GMT 10
White Wrist Bands: I wrote this after finding this fact and it i was bored. My friend helped me!
When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored wristbands which symbolize other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead people. There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator door opened, another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised, the woman reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other woman in. The doctor said, “That was the woman I just operated on. She died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was wearing?” The woman smiled, raised her arm, and said, “Something like this?”
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:13:51 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:13:51 GMT 10
Thomas:
I am Thomas's reflection. Every morning, he rises from sleep and walks into the bathroom. ...and he makes faces. I am so tired of the faces. He makes them for at least half an hour. Mocking, ridiculous faces. I have no choice but to mimic his every action, although inside I am seething with anger. He does this every day... well, USED to. One morning he awoke as usual, and entered the bathroom. On this particular morning, against his will, he picked up a pair of scissors. On this particular morning, against his will, he gripped those scissors tightly in his fist. ...on this particular morning, entirely against his will, he plunged those scissors directly into his right eye. Thomas screamed, and screamed. I screamed and screamed too - with one difference. I can't mimic his pain. Just his face.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:30:16 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:30:16 GMT 10
The Oven!
During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time. Although the scene was originally labeled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm's well (which had apparently dried up earlier that year). Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. For the remaining 45 minutes of video, until the batteries in the camera died, it remained in its stationary position. To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well, or why the height and stature of the woman in the video didn't come close to matching the body they'd found in the oven.
The Baby:
In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
The Hitchhiker:
There are stories about a certain kind of hitchhiker - they only ever appear at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in the very edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always with an expression of deep despondency on their faces, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants, usually with gloves. If you stop, they will seem cordial enough, polite, but hardly chatty. They will assure you that the next town or city along your route will be a fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you try killing them. They die easily enough. But look underneath their clothes, and you will see that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming repeating patterns that are unsettling to look at, and even more unsettling in the context of their skin. They have no wallets, no identification. If you slice their belly open, however, they're different inside. There's no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing a single object. The object varies. Examples include a single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes nobody could ever decipher. A diamond gem with fractal edges that slice bare flesh to ribbons. A small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of the ocean and is always damp... Once you possess a hitchhiker's object, you'll find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You'll never mean to, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing a second one will hum quietly in your head. You'll strain to catch sight of a figure appearing in your headlights, try to resist the impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you won't. You'll try telling yourself that this is just a normal person on an adventure, someone who ran out of petrol. The logical part of your brain will scream at what you're doing. You'll smile and nod and they'll get into the car and you'll slowly, casually, reach under the seat or across to the glove box...
Cemetery: If traveling through the tip of the thumb of Michigan on a night with a full moon, stop at McGraw County Park. The gate will be closed but you can park in front of it. Bring a set of black clothes and change in the change rooms. When you come out, there will be an old man with olive colored skin and curly dark brown hair and a mustache selling hot dogs in a cart. If you order one, the man will thank you for your patronage and apologize for your loss saying “I’m sure the wake will be nice.” One of your relatives - not necessarily someone close but still someone you know - will have been murdered that night. Be sure to change back into your other set of clothes, because if you drive away while still dressed in the black clothes you’ll be pulled over by state police and arrested for the murder of your family member and the clothes will be covered in their blood.
Halloween: Rumor has it that every Halloween during the hours of 2am and 5am, there exists a void. You must stand in front of a mirror in a pitch black room with your gaze fixated on the mirror. If you remain in the room when the moment arrives, you will feel a chill seize your body. Place your right hand on the mirror and whisper "I accept." If done correctly, in the mirror, there will be a faint image of an infant with no flesh and pitch black eyes. He will stare directly into your soul and you will hear the buzzing of flies and nervous whispering. You will not be able to make out the image in the mirror, but you will be filled with unspeakable terror. The infant will ask you five questions about events that have occurred within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper on bone and sinew and will be devoid of all human emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed and lost to you forever. For each question that is answered correctly, you will be able to recite the name of someone you know. That person will be found dead the next morning, with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.
Post it murder: In the heart of Washington, there’s a house that used to be owned by a family of five. Nobody really knows what happened to them. Their neighbors at the time say that there were no signs of weirdness or fear in the family. The common testimony is that one day there was nothing wrong. The night that followed, there were very loud noises coming from the house, and although people in the area came to investigate what was keeping them up, the windows were blocked by millions of post-it notes, and the windows would not break. The following day, the house was empty. Nobody has lived in that house since. But people have gone inside. In every bedroom, there is a mirror facing the corner of the room. If you turn it around, it won’t show your reflection. The area you’ll be standing in will be empty. They say that on the rare occasion, you’ll see the person who used to sleep in that room, mutilated and bandaged from head to toe...
Creep Car: A man saw a Ferrari at a used-car sale and asked for the price of the car. The salesman lit up with a smile and said he'd give it to the man for $500 dollars. The man bought the car instantly on the spot after hearing the ridiculously cheap deal. The man had the car for months now, but on a cold, winter day as he got into the driver's seat he was startled to see someone in the rear-view mirror. He quickly turned around and saw nothing in the empty seat and quickly shrugged it off thinking he must have imagined it. As the cold days went by, the car doors started to lock up on him, the engine would stall, and he would hear sounds of something hitting in the back. The man started getting anxious about this bad omen. That horror soon showed itself as he was driving to the airport to pick up his relatives. He looked up and saw 3 bloody bodies in the rear-view mirror staring at him. He screamed and realized that this car is really haunted and fled from the car. Later he heard the story of the car from the salesman. The police found the car 2 years ago abandoned in an empty airport parking stall where 2 dead bodies were found in the back seat and another one found in the trunk.
Dead Mall: There is a dead mall somewhere in Virginia that is in an advanced state of decay. For one reason or another, the mall still stands — there have been several plans, some of them quite elaborate, to revitalise the area, many of them calling for the original building’s demolition…but none of them have ever come to pass. It is quite a shame, a sorry thing to look at today. In its heyday in the 1970’s and early 80’s, the mall was jampacked, the place to be on the weekends, especially Saturday nights. It was upscale, fashionable, and always a happy place to go. Years went by, and bigger, better malls opened around the city. The mall slowly started losing tenants, until today it is completely empty. If you go in it nowadays, you will be astounded by the vast emptiness — every step you make and every word you speak will echo loudly. Where once scores of people did their shopping, met for lunch, and got together, there is now only eerie silence. Over the years, the happy, upbeat feeling of the place has darkened, more and more, until now many people avoid it — but can never tell you exactly why. The story would end here, were it not for a very curious rumour: it is said on certain Saturday nights throughout the year, something very strange happens. If you go to one of the entrances of this mall, it will be unlocked. Push open the door, and it will give way — and you may enter. Near a bench right in the entrance will be a shadowy figure — casting a shadow that obscures than the darkness around it. This shadowy figure can be spoken to — call out to it: “I know your secret, and the secrets you keep.” Where once there was shadow, there will appear a face — a radiantly pale, withered old man’s face, with black holes for eye-sockets. “No,” he will respond in a voice that will be like the slithering of maggots, “for I know yours.” He will then ask a question — the question will be about your life, or rather a detail about your life, something that happened many years ago. The question he poses will be one you should know the answer to — but so obscure, it will be difficult to answer at first, if you can answer it at all. You will be forced to answer — you simply won’t be able to respond with “I don’t know”. If you get the answer right, the shadowy man will thrust a box into your hands, before dissolving back into the darkness. Open the box, and there will be a note, onwhich will be written the name of the person you were meant to marry or fall in love with. Only rarely is it the person you think it will be. If you get the answer wrong, your body will be found the morning of the following Sunday, at the entrance to the mall you came in, mutilated and eviscerated so badly no one will be able to identify the body.
Moonlight Films: In many stores and establishments that provide videos of a less than savory manner, a business card is kept. Some stores keep it well hidden, locked in a safe, and will deny it's existence. Others will show you if you ask for it by name. None will have it displayed in the open. On this card is a name, "Moonlight Films", and a contact number. It is always a local number. Go to any payphone in your city and dial the number. The answer will be prompt but all you will hear is silence. Wait thirty seconds. Then you will be served. A dry, monotone male voice will ask you a question: "Is the road from life to death dark?" The correct response is: "It is moonlit." If you answer with anything but the correct reply, he will hang up on you. If you fail the first time, I'd suggest not trying again. But if the question is answered properly, the man will say one address in your city and then hang up. Go to this address and you will find that it is a small, dingy apartment. The carpet will be dirty, the wallpaper flaking and wrinkled, the windows cracked. It will smell of tobacco smoke and decay. On the stained old coffee table there will be a paper bag. On this bag your full name will be written in red sharpie. Open the bag and you will find an unlabeled video tape. Take it and place exactly $10.99 in the bag then leave. You can watch the tape if you like, but you don't have to. I warn you: it's not pleasant. You will see a room or chamber papered in dessicated skin, the furniture will be crafted from flesh and bone. The tape will last approximately 32 minutes and will depict the murder of a person and the subsequent crafting of their body into furnishing -- lampshades made of skin, tables made of bone. After renting the tape for one week, you must return it to the apartment by sliding it through the mail slot when the time is up. After that, never return to the apartment and definitely don't call the number ever again. I'd also suggest you not keep the tape more than a week. The owners will not be satisfied with a mere late fee -- and you know, a good home can never have enough accessories.
Buy one for the baron: An odd occurrence has been rumored to happen in a certain pub at night in southwest Germany. If you sit in the stool farthest from the door while one beside it is empty, order a round for yourself and offer to "buy one for the Baron". The bartender will without question or expression will pour 2 beers from tap. He'll place one beside you and the moment the other one hits the table the room will go dark and silent, save for the sound of footsteps as a man in uniform sits beside you. It is believed that it is indeed Captain Manfred von Richthofen, although no one is sure because they can barely see their own glass, much less the person's face. No one who's told this story has had the nerve you touch him or risk insult, and the figure does not say a word. But apparently if you were to ask him "So sir, what's the condition at the front?" he would tell you startling details about the region's future and sometimes how they connect to the world as a whole. Those who lived long enough after the fact claim that these events took place the exact about of years from the date they asked as from the date Baron von Richthofen died in battle. Yet this cannot be confirmed, because every time the figure has been asked the question after 1964 he's only replied with a cold laugh.
Creep Bathroom: Go to any high traffic bathroom. It must be a high traffic bathroom; otherwise the room won’t have enough latent residual energy to carry out the task. A hotel bathroom is perfect. Make sure it's after 12pm, and make sure you have 2 clove cigarettes. The stronger the cigarette, the higher your success rate is. Sit in the dark and begin smoking one of the cigarettes. Make sure there is a mirror present, and that you look at your reflection at all times. The burning cherry should provide just enough light for this. When you’ve smoked the cigarette within a 1/4 in of the filter, the room should be full of smoke. Your eyes will no doubt be watering, but don’t blink. Don’t take your eyes off of the mirror or your reflection whatever you do. To blink will make all you’ve done at this point for naught. You’ll begin to notice that your reflection will begin to fade into black. The reflection of the cherry from your cigarette will begin to separate into two red eyes. The smoke in the room will begin to condense, and before you even realize it’s happened, a shade will be sitting on the ledge of the sink. He’ll ask you for a cigarette, which is why you’re instructed to bring two. Give the shade a cigarette, which will light itself once he brings it to his withered lips. At this point, you can ask the shade any question you want, and he'll answer true. You can ask who shot JFK, who was Jack the Ripper. Anything you could possibly think of. Be sure to keep an eye on how much of the cigarette he’s smoked. When it gets to the point where it will only take a few more hits to kill it, the smoke from the other cigarette will begin to define more of his features, making him more material than ethereal. At this point, stand up and snatch out his eyes in one sweeping motion. He should still be mostly smoke, so your hands should pass easily through his head. If you let him finish the cigarette he WILL attack you, almost surely taking your life in the process. The shade will begin screaming and cursing you and the hand holding his eyes will be burning intensely. DO NOT OPEN YOUR HAND! Even though the eyes are disembodied, they can see if they are out in the open. Run to the light switch and flip it on. This will banish the shades physical form and send him back into the ether. Leave the room and wait until 3:00 am to open your hand. The burning will be unbearable until then, but to do so will blow all the lights out in your house, allowing the shade to return and seek vengeance. You will have 4 burn marks on your palm when you open it. All cauterized of course, and mostly healed. From then on you can never be in a dark room with a mirror, because the shade will be able to track you through the burns in your hand. He'll have black hell dogs now, given his loss of sight, and they are far more terrible than the shade could ever be. The number of hell dogs depends on the strength of the shade you made contact with. After this, you’ll always be cold, no matter how warm it is, and you’ll be given the ability to perform minor miracles. Your dreams will always be nightmares, but in them, you will be granted a kind of third sight. You’ll never be able to see anything good, only the most horrific future events. And these events will only be known to you at a point where you can’t do anything to stop them. A small price to pay for absolute knowledge.
Death: Do you ever wonder how scary death is? Think about it; it’s the one thing that we truly know absolutely nothing about. Some people may cite religious beliefs of an afterlife and others might claim they just focus on life, but it's really something that is totally and utterly foreign to us. And what if the religious people are wrong? What if death really is nonexistence... that it’s simply over once the brain dies? Terrifying, huh? Of course, the reasoning goes that you won't notice it, since you won't exist. But... Let's say a certain someone could expose you to nonexistence. Let's say this person could actually let you experience the state of not existing and more importantly, let you remember it. He'd probably be able to get you to agree to anything in order to avoid that fate. Tangentially, for certain people near death, their brain activity sometimes ceases completely for about three seconds and then returns, only to shortly die in a more conventional fashion. As another aside, many hospital orderlies have noticed a man wearing a suit that they have never seen in any catalog or on any person before. Interestingly enough, when you ask them about the suit they will struggle for a moment, then reply that it’s hard to describe, but they are sure they haven’t seen it before. Ask them about the man however, and they will freeze up, spasm violently and reply, "What man?"
White noise: If you ever are in an area of absolute quiet, still your breathing and move not a muscle. After a few seconds, you will notice that the silence has a sort of "sound" of its own, a kind of empty ringing tone. This is nothing unique; everyone will hear this, given the proper setting. An informed person will tell you that your brain is trying to interpret the lack of stimuli to your hearing and so creates a bit of a filler sound. This ringing sound actually serves a more arcane purpose, covering up a noise we are not meant to hear. This noise is not impossible to hear, and if you are persistent you can effectively "break" the cover-up sound. The next time you are silent and hear the ringing, shout at the top of your lungs for about half a minute, then be abruptly silent. It will be different for everyone. Some will hear nothing different for dozens of tries. Others might pick up soft murmuring. A special few auditory heroes might clearly make it out on the first attempt. What you will hear is a voice that relays an account of events about to happen in the immediate future. It's like a sportscaster relaying the events occurring 10 seconds into the future. As time goes on, you will be able to make out this voice under increasingly noisy circumstances, to the point that it can be heard at any time by just concentrating. Such ability would doubtlessly be invaluable, no? You will be able react to any immediate danger, relate to people around you with greater ease. No one would ever surprise you. Now, of course you are wondering what sort of horrible catch this ability entails. Perhaps the tone of the voice is so horrible that it will drive you mad, or maybe the voice will only predict your death over and over again. Of course this isn't the case, though, it’s a normal voice, your ears receive it no matter what, and it’s simply a matter of noticing. But there is a danger. For you see, where there is a voice, there is a body. And just like you will notice new sounds, so shall you notice new sights. More importantly, you will be noticed.
The other side: Somewhere in New York City there is an old homeless man missing both his legs from the knees down, whose spot along the streets is the corner of Lexington and East 21st, near Granmercy Park. Approach him after nightfall, give him some change (NO pennies, NO dimes) and ask him, "What did you see on the other side?" He will then tell you all about his travels to other realms and times, where he lost his legs, how he lost his money. It is up to you whether to believe him or not, but as you listen you'll find yourself being drawn in with every story. You must stay alert, or the old man will notice your inattentiveness, and with a scowl he will stop imparting his wisdom; he will chase you as fast as he can, tottering on his stubs. The other reason why you must stay alert is to check the time. Before midnight you must interrupt him (do NOT let him finish whatever story he's telling you at the moment) and say "I've heard enough, old man. Good day and good luck", then walk away. Make at least two left-hand turns around the block before going about your business. You must do this, because anyone who has stayed to listen past midnight is never seen again, at least not in this particular plane of existence.
He gave it up for them: In the winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a medic in the German army had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment was a bloodbath. Those who survived claimed to have heard, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee. The medic had made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never had he been this short on supplies. No matter. He would do his duty. He had always prided himself on his resourcefulness. The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, and most men dropped off to sleep in the dark, still hours of the morning - New Year's Day, 1945. The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, yet there had been no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood. The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, and tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal that large patches of his skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body was almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial. None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
Morning Call: It's early in the morning. The sun won't be up for another couple of hours. You're fast asleep in bed, lost in a dream, when the phone rings. Rather than waking up, you roll over and cover your head with a pillow. Hours pass. The sun rises. The phone is ringing. When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning. You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice. Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one. The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next. Screaming. You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh. The phone beeps again. You're shaking. Message two.
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.
De Javu: You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken breasts. After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage." Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother. Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says. You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?" "Hi hun, it's me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too." "No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."
Darkness: When I was fourteen, my mother and father were divorced, and I went to live with my mother and a man she supposedly fell in love with several years ago. We searched for a house for all three of us to live in, and eventually found the perfect house. A few months later, after finding out that my dad had Cancer, my mom went, engaged to this man living with us, to the very hospital and stayed with my father for about a week, leaving me to tend to myself as I remained in the basement, wasting my time on the computer. It was late, around midnight if I recall correctly, and the man living with us went off to bed, turning off every light in the house, except for the computer room in the basement. During this time we had one dog and one cat. I can't remember exactly where the dog was, but the cat was downstairs with me, doing what cats do, I guess. While typing away on the computer, it occurred to me, after several minutes had passed, my cat had been staring at the door, which was left wide open, for a long time. Her ears appeared to be pinned against the back of her head and I finally noticed her faint growling. Thinking that it was the dog, I turned around and called for her, only then to notice something that took me completely by surprise. The door that leads up to the second floor was left wide open. In front of it, taking the size of a three or four year old, was this ominous being, made of shadow. As chills ran down my spine and fear completely took over my body, I watched this unearthly 'thing' with what little time I had, I absorbed any features possible, noting that it had small, beady eyes that were yellow, and this 'thing' had black tendrils on top of it's head, and on the sides of it's body, which didn't exactly have a 'shape'. Whatever this thing was, it reacted quickly and hid by leaping over to the stairs, making it partially visible to my view. Then, I noticed that it leaned over and peeked through the wall that hid it, quickly pulling away as it knew I was still watching. To this very day I don't know how, but I managed to muster up enough courage and quickly ran to the computer room's door, slamming and locking it. An hour later, I ran through the whole house, turning on every light possible, except for my mom's bedroom, and I went to bed with the light on. I didn't bother looking for the dog, and I never told the man about this strange occurrence. I just went into my room and crawled into bed. I don't know how I fell asleep. But I did. Whatever the Hell that thing was, it was watching me. I didn't think that I'd ever get over it. But I guess I calmed down after a while. A week later, after staying the night at my brothers house, I was bored and decided to look this thing up. Oddly enough, what I saw that night matched the description of what most people call a 'Shadow Being'. That scared the living Hell out of me, and I knew, without a doubt, that it was not my imagination that created this thing. Ever since, I hated that house. That perfect house was no longer my home. I'm honestly surprised that I still stayed in that house, unfortunately, I didn't have much of a choice. But I never saw the Shadow Being again. Never. Still, I was afraid. Thankfully three months after, mom and I moved back in with my dad and the man living with us eventually moved away, and our so called dream home was up for sale. Probably still is. I still have nightmares of the Shadow Being from time to time. Sometimes, it feels like it's watching me whenever I'm alone. I was never really afraid of the dark until then. Now, I hate looking into the darkness. The darkness could be looking back at me.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:32:07 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 17:32:07 GMT 10
Do you type these up on Word and just insert them into the reply box thingo?
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:34:08 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:34:08 GMT 10
Yep!!!
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:40:45 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 17:40:45 GMT 10
Smart @$$. I want to write my own story that isn't ... but I don't know if I should. What do you reckon Cass seeing as it's your website?
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:51:37 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 17:51:37 GMT 10
Put ur story up here if u feel confident!
Is it y?
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 17:55:30 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 17:55:30 GMT 10
No, that was when I put the ... in.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 18:34:15 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 18:34:15 GMT 10
PM me about it as u seem reluctent to mention anything!
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 18:35:40 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 13, 2009 18:35:40 GMT 10
Okay.
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Creepy
May 13, 2009 19:04:02 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 13, 2009 19:04:02 GMT 10
Cool!
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Creepy
May 15, 2009 21:47:52 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 15, 2009 21:47:52 GMT 10
Looking forward to the next one.
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Creepy
May 17, 2009 11:33:38 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 17, 2009 11:33:38 GMT 10
I will type up more when i can get around to it!
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Creepy
May 20, 2009 9:55:51 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 20, 2009 9:55:51 GMT 10
Don't fry that brain of yours. Tysonn needs it.
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Creepy
May 20, 2009 18:25:41 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 20, 2009 18:25:41 GMT 10
LOL!
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Creepy
May 21, 2009 6:49:59 GMT 10
Post by Missing my friends already. :( on May 21, 2009 6:49:59 GMT 10
LOLZ
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Creepy
May 28, 2009 8:18:51 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 28, 2009 8:18:51 GMT 10
LOLAS!!!
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Creepy
May 28, 2009 8:27:08 GMT 10
Post by The Fear/Rukia on May 28, 2009 8:27:08 GMT 10
Exorcisms
Exorcisms are often the theme of horror movies. Most people shrug them off and think that they are fake.
They’re not.
But they are also not the way Hollywood portrays them to be. Instead, when a mere mortal tries to perform an exorcism, the demon leaves its original host, and enter the priest’s body. More than likely though, since they’re priests, the demon has no control over them, and soon leaves. However, there are certain instances when the priest lets the demon take control over him. The demon is wiser this time around though, and does not completely take over the body, which would cause another exorcism. This time, he gently influences the thoughts of the “priests” to do horrific things. Since priests have knowledge and experience in the “Spiritual Realm,” the demon can curse people, damn people, the works. The people around the priest have no knowledge of his demonic possession, and neither does he. After meditating on demonic practices, the priest and demon become one, allowing the demon to enter the world as a physical being. Once in this dimension, the demon has almost unlimited power.
Over 150 people have been found dead after fighting with priests on Sunday morning the following day in the past decade. Take these words of advice; don’t fight priests, and if you do, carry a Bible on you at all times for at least twelve days.
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Creepy
May 28, 2009 8:28:41 GMT 10
Post by Whisper My Fairytale on May 28, 2009 8:28:41 GMT 10
Bec my stories are made up based on fact if ur gonna say real things it can go in paranormal!
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Creepy
Jun 6, 2009 15:12:48 GMT 10
Post by Whitewolf/The Eternal Light on Jun 6, 2009 15:12:48 GMT 10
in response to "white noise" i never took much notice but now its clear, i used to hear this murmur around me just sometimes and i never knew what it was and i never knew what it was saying, i know its fiction but maybe i will try it and maybe i will accomplish it. thanks for the wake up call
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