You know when you’re falling asleep, and you suddenly get the feeling that you’ve tripped? You’re body lurches forward in an instant, ready to protect you instinctively from injury. You can almost SEE the ground rising to meet you. This occurs when the boundaries between you and the “you” in an alternate universe are weakest.

This is the feeling that happens when another “you” dies.

Look behind you. What do you see?
Invariably, there will be a wall somewhere in your view. Now stare deeply into the space on the wall that lines up best with your eyes. Nothing will happen, but makes sure you are clear on where this particular spot is.
That spot contains all the negativity in your mind. Whenever you are on your computer, reading scary stories or whatever you do, sometimes you will get spooked.
What do you do when this happens? You check behind you, that’s what you do. As you read this now, a feeling of dread will come over you.

Check the spot.

Nothing again, huh?

That’s because right now, all the evil is locked safely in your mind. Some people, upon learning of this “negative spot” resolve to remove the spot in an attempt to remove the negative energy. This is a grave mistake.
You must never let harm come to this spot. If you do, you will have released the energy. Now when you sit at your computer at night, you will feel chills even in the summer time. The feeling of dread that only presented itself when you were genuinely scared will now hang in the air constantly. Within a week you and your loved ones will have a string of bad luck.

Within a month your computer will begin to act erratic and eventually break down. On the anniversary of the spot’s destruction, you will dream of your most horrible fears. The dream will seem to go on forever, and when you wake up you will notice your vision has darkened. Every year on the same day, the dream will repeat itself, and your vision will grow darker and darker.

After you go completely blind, don’t ever turn your back on that spot again. That is, if you can still tell where it is.

When I was younger, I lived with my father and his mother. I was the only child, a girl at that, and my father was very protective of me. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated me. At first, she would just yell at me and shove me around when dad was at work. It escalated, quickly after he started working longer house to make ends meet. I rarely saw my father at that point. For 4 years, she did things I can’t even bring myself to really think about, not enough to write it. For those 4 years, I prayed and prayed for release. I prayed and wished for her to die. To God, to whoever would listen. My dad probably would have believed me if I’d had a chance to talk to him, but she’d made me feel as though I were an abomination over the years that, I couldn’t bear it anymore. After she killed my kitten and made me bury it, at the age of 13, I attempted suicide by hanging myself inside my closet.

Apparently, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing and the bar in the closet that I tied myself to fell on my head and knocked me the fuck out. I pulled myself up and headed to sneak into the bathroom without the monster cunt to catch me and give me another beating. As I left my bedroom, I caught a whiff of something very fucking rancid, like vomit, burning flesh, and blood, mixed together, warm. I knew all of these smells fairly well, considering what my grandmother did to me, and I thought for a moment it might have been my imagination, or her making something disgusting for me to eat to torture me more. While I recognized the seperate smells in a way, I’d never smelled something like this.

As I got closer and closer to the stairs overlooking the living room, which was right across from the bathroom, I started to hear something. Faintly, I remember hearing it a few feet back, but suddenly it seemed so much louder. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and all I could hear was gurgle, smack smack, squish squish, RIIIIIIIIIP. The mere idea of peeking over the stairs and into the living room was suddenly so profoundly frightening that I almost just went back into my bedroom, but strangely enough, it was amazingly easy to just do it anyway.

What I saw in the living room will never leave me for as long as I live, in more than one sense.

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If you ever find yourself in LA’s Old China town, head into the square, past the statue of sun Yat-sen, past the hip, ultramod toy store called “Munky King” and look for an import store next to what used to be a wishing fountain. Go into this store ad head all the way straight back, you’ll see a selection of weapons, Look for a weapon called a Jiujiebian, a sort of multi-sectioned whip. It MUST have exactly nine segments, no more, no less. This will be called the “chain of night” and as of now, there are 48 notches in it’s handle. It will cost you 29.95. Then after that, go outside and wait till dark, as the moon rises, take a quarter from your pocket and cast it at the wishing well. as it lands focus on that spot exactly and slowly chant under your breath: “by the circles of lao-tzu, the void inside of matter, I call forth the spirit that lingers here!” this phrase is best said in the origional mandarin, but the spirit will understand a sincere supplicant regardless of language. A girl will step out of the bottom of the fountain, about nine years of age. She will ask you: “Where has my mother gone?” you must respond with: “She has long since gone from earth, but look to the sky, and see her there!”

This spirit is not that of a little girl, but of a bog-hag, cursed to obey this one command regardless of who says it. At this moment, you must attempt to strike the girl with your Newly Acquired Jiujiebian. She will then snarl and attempt to fight back. Should you win, all the money ever thrown into the fountain will await you. If you fail, all that the folks in Chinatown know is that a bloody Jiujiebian lies at the door of the import store with a new notch in it’s handle. To date, there are 48 notches in the handle.

A young man and his new bride were honeymooning in Paris when his wife went into a restroom and didn’t return. With time the man began to fear the worst and went to the police. The police thought it was most likely the girl simply had second thoughts about the marriage, but they checked it out anyway and found no evidence of foul play.

As weeks turned into months the man finally gave up on finding his beautiful wife, but his life fell into a shambles, he was so filled with grief.

Unable to hold a job or go on with his life, he took to wandering the world looking for anything that might ease his pain. Years later in Borneo, he came upon a freakshow in an old shabby building and he went in on a whim. In the last filthy cage he saw a twisted, scarred and mutilated woman rocking back and forth and groaning strange animal-like noises. He screamed as he recognized the birthmark on his wife’s face.

Have you ever heard the expression “an apple a day keeps the Doctor away?” Most assume, with no reason to think otherwise, that it is simply an easy-to-remember rhyme that stresses the importance of eating healthily to young children. But the saying did not originate as a harmless reminder. It was born in a frontier town in the early years of the gold rush, where food was scarce and money even scarcer.

One August, when a bad drought had struck the region, a series of bloody killings swept through the town. Every night, a single house would be broken into, and anyone who saw the invader would be swiftly, brutally slain. Nothing was ever stolen, save for a few scraps of food.

After two weeks of this, the local grocer set out a few apples and a glass of milk in the town square overnight. He then hid in the tower of the church, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone who came by.

Fighting fatigue, the grocer waited for any sign of life below. Just after midnight, he was rewarded by a chilling sight; a man, carrying a black bag stuffed with dully shining metal tools and covered from head to foot in cloth bandages, staggered into view. He paused at the sight of the apples and milk, then whipped his head around, as if looking for the one who dared to patronize him. Seized with fear, the grocer ducked out of sight, staying hidden ’til sunrise.

The strange man had only taken one of the apples, and didn’t even touch the glass of milk. No houses were broken into, and no one was killed. For decades, the town continued to place out an apple or two every night, even long after a single apple stopped dissapearing.

I’m hoping at least /x/ will enjoy this because it’s probablt fucked me up for life. It’s seeming a lot more absurd as time passes (12 days since I moved my shit into my friends place), so I want to get this out there and have people call bullshit and pass judgement, because I think it’ll make me feel better.

I’ve moved out all my stuff, I’ve already called the cops, and informed my absentee landlord. I’ve done all the proper things, so there’s nothing left to do but share my little fucked up city living story.

About six months ago, my girlfriend and I moved into an apartment in the Benton Park neighborhood of St. Louis. About two weeks after we move in, her grandfather, who raised her, has a fucking stroke, and she ends up going home to Twin Oaks to take care of him. She was living with him full time until we can find out how to afford a nurse or hospice.

Anyway, I’d been living in our one bedroom all alone for the last half a year. It’s beautiful, newly remodeled, double paned windows, great insulation. The best a couple of hicks turned yuppies could want. It’s got a couple of weird things about it, as you’ll see. There’s only four units in the building, on the second and third floors. We’re on the top floor.

The first weird thing about the place we noticed right when we moved in. The walls and floors are paper thin. I could hear every word of my downstairs neighbors conversation at all times. I know when they take a shower, I know when they fuck. And I’m sure they know the same about us. It’s weird, the
more info we had on each other, the less we wanted to actually know each other.

They moved out six weeks ago. Then the other two units went vacant a week later. It was kinda weird, but also kind of awesome. I could finally stomp around, watch porn and play Rock Band at full volume.

About four weeks ago, it got weird. It was about 1 am, and I was going to bed, and I started to hear this noise from the empty apartment downstairs. Really quiet at first, but sustained. It sounded halfway between a hushed conversation, with only one person talking, and small motor running. Just a babbling, not quite regular drone. Freaked me out at first, but I rationalized that it was some plumbing or the refridgerator downstairs. Something I’d never heard over my downstairs neighbors farting and snoring.
I learned to live with it, as it rose and fell every evening. Pretty soon a steady tapping sound started in with mumbling. I know it sounds fucked up, but when you hear it every night for a while, you just make excuses for it.

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In Central Australia, there is an unremarkable service station along a straight and barren stretch of road. If you walk straight in and ask for the key, you will be given an unremarkable key attached to an unremarkable piece of wood. The key will unlock a door at the service station, leading to an impossibly long stepped corridor, dimly lit from an unseen source. If you follow these stairs, you will begin to hear hungry cries of birds of prey that grow louder as you descend. After an amount of time, the light will vanish, leaving you in the dark, and a rasping voice will ask for your desires. For each desire, you will experience all the sensations, unforgettable, branded into your memory, of bodily mutilation, of being torn asunder by impossible strength, of having an arm slowly flayed, each nerve individually pulled from your flesh. You may speak as many desires as your sanity can take. Then you must turn and return up the steps and never look back. Return the key and go about your life. Your desires will be granted, but you will always have to live with the memories given to you in that dark place.

There it goes again. Something definitely moved this time. It was very brief, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw something. But wait. All the doors are locked, no pets, and your parents won’t get home until 10. So there’s no way something moved. It’s just your imagination getting the best of you. Sitting alone in your room, the only light emitting from the monitor of your computer, you stare into the darkness for several minutes. Just to be sure. Now you feel silly. What were you thinking? Of course there’s nothing there. What, are you 6? Go back to what you were doing.

15 minutes later, as you prepare to go to bed, you’re in the bathroom. The shower curtains shift. Wait… no. Stop spooking yourself. It’s just an overactive imagination, filling your head with what isn’t really there. You gaze into the mirror at yourself. You say it to yourself, slowly and clearly, “Imagination.” With a sigh, you turn the lights off and head towards your room.

Laying in bed, you stare at your ceiling, dark and foreboding, only the motion of a small fan disturbing the calmness of the night. A shadow from the light in the hall shifts. No. No, no, no. Stop it. It’s your imagination. Just that. Go to sleep, you fool.

But then, just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, at the phase no one remembers when they wake, you sense something in the darkness. It’s your imagination, leering down at you. With a jagged, macabre smile.

In a cave, somewhere, is a severed mummified head.
If you remove your own head and replace it with the severed mummified one, you will be imbued with immeasurable arcane power.

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.

There is a special word in each holy book of all the great religions; The Koran, The New Testament, The Torah, The Bhagavad Gita; and nine other forgotten books spoke of in the Dead Sea Scrolls. If all these words can be collected and spoken backwards in their native tongue, then you will vanish to Elysia, the most beautiful of the heavens. You can stay forever, or return to Earth. If you stay too long, you will forget your life, but if you leave, you will have to kill a child at each full moon to survive. However, while you live you will have untold power over the secrets of the Earth. You will also know the location of “The Soft Places”, the lands between dreams and waking.

If you travel to the furthest glaciers in the south, it is said you can walk into the canyons of ice there. If you find the junction of two canyons that form a perfect square, you can lie down in the middle there and feel no cold. If you listen, the ice will speak and what it says will make poor men rich, and sane men mad.

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.

Although the Jewish omnipotent entity we refer to by tradition as God was first called Yahweh (I am) by the Israelites, legend has it that the high priest of Israel passed from one to another his true name, made up of 72 Hebrew letters that, when spoken, would summon his presence before the speaker. This was required for their annual ritual of asking for forgiveness of the nation’s sins - by asking face to face.

So what would happen if you found this combination? And what could you petition? Well, Jesus did provide a warning, “Fear not those who can destroy the body and then do no more…fear him who, after killing the body, can destroy the soul.” (Luke 12:4-5)