Slender Twilight: The “Naughty” Version

April 1, 2013 at 10:00 PM
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“What the fuck did I just read?”

- Pretty much everyone.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 1.)

Oh, how no one understands the dark brooding angst stirring in my loins! I couldn’t concentrate in school again today, thoughts of Him distracted me from my composition writing class. How could I possibly worry about the fundamentals of English grammar stuff stupid when there’s a tall sexy devil stalking the spooky nights? I wish He would stalk me.  I know “some” people would say that I am a silly pants; that He would devour my soul or drive me to madness… but they don’t understand Him like do. I know He would not do this to me. And how could He? I’m His “biggest” fan. ;) Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to prove them all wrong.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 2.)

Woe is me. Must I be alone for all eternity? Doomed to wander the cruel world in my misunderstoodedness? I spent the entire afternoon in the cemetery after school today, drawing the sacred symbol on each and every tombstone, the circle of darkness with the ‘x’ of also darkness, awaiting for Him to run into my arms. I even wore my outfit, my extra special Sailor Moon miniskirt and thigh high socks. I must have ridden my tricycle around those gave stones a thousand times before I ran out of Hi-C. How could He not be enticed by me? Am I not enticing? Of course I am, it must have been those fart faces who showed up and interrupted my unholy ritual. The called me names, really mean names that cut into my soul like razors. I tried not to cry, but I could not stop myself. “If you don’t stop… shouldn’t make fun of the black forces that dwell within me!” I yelled at them before they started throwing bananas at me. Bananas that cut deeper than any black razor of black blackness. I road my tricycle home as fast as I could. On the way I checked my vampire Pikachu watch, IT WAS ALMOST 6 O’CLOCK!!! My mom must have been worried sick! But then I got home and she gave me some spaghetti. Yummy!

FanBoy97: Journal entry 3.)

I just took a bubble bath, and now I need to check my emails for the rightful acceptance of my creepypasta submission. Let’s look… NOTHING! Anger and other dirty talk! How could it not be posted yet? I submitted it yesterday afternoon, how long do I have to wait for the world to see my spectacular greatness? I know, that jerky jerk face administrator is jealous of my uncanny ability to write epic tales of melancholy spookiness. Of course that’s what it is, nobody could pass up my masterpiece unless they were intimidated. It was called, “The grand adventures of the totally badass and in no way at all homoerotic sparkly vampires.” It was so awesome. I guess I’m just going to have to send that jerk a bunch of emails outlining why he’s such a jerk. Then he’ll see, they’ll all see. But it’s almost eight, and I need to snuggle into bed next to my Jeff the Killer body pillow and let my darky dark mind of darkness take me to the ultradarkness of dreamland.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 4.)

I woke up from that dream again, I just had to write it down this time. It was the one where I’m lying there still in my bed completely naked when the wind blows my bedroom window open, and then that beautiful slender body of His floats in, hovering above me, tempting me with the prospects of sweet sweaty passion.
“Come to me, sweet prince,” I say to Him as He lowers Himself gracefully, His black suit stretched tight across His lovely form.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” I ask him. He never says a word.
“Oh, the strong and silent type aren’t you?” I whisper into where His ear balls should be. “That’s okay,” I continue in the most seductive voice I can manage. “You don’t have to say a thing.” I pulled on His necktie, pulling His faceless face against mine. Then we start making out, AND IT WAS SEXXXXXY! Then after like, an hour, I whisper back into his ear balls, “How about you take off that suit and show me what those tentacles can really do…”
When I woke up my sheets were all sticky.

FanBoy97: Journal entry 5.)

OMG!!<333333!!!! I don’t even know to explain it, but after that hot sticky dream I just couldn’t go back to sleep. So I kinda just stayed awake and sent fifty complaints to that jerk faced administrator , when I got this sense you know? A most… arousing sense at that. I got this feeling that I needed to look out of my window, and when I did, I that it was… it was Him! Slenderman was watching me from across the street. I knew it was Him at once, He’s impossible to mistake. The tall, thin body in the most fabulous of suits. He was just standing there motionless, expressionless, beckoning to me… Oh shits! I better get back to the window, He’s still out there and I need to press my bare nipples against the glass to keep Him interested. I’ll come back later to write how it went. Oh God, I feel as giddy as a school girl at the gynecologist’s!

The Next Day…

Officer Stinson is standing at the scene of the crime, his partner, Officer Drake approaches him with a cup of coffee in each hand.
“So what in the hell and the hootenanny happened here?” Asks Drake as he glances over the carnage. Up high in a tree sectioned off by yellow hazard tape is the body of a young boy, his torso impaled on one of the many jagged braches. On the ground below him, there are several plastic bags filled with what is assumed to be some of the boy’s organs. They include; eyes, kidneys, liver, pancreas, gallbladder and several fingers. Officer Stinson hands his partner a piece of paper covered in blood.
“We found this nailed to the tree.” Says Stinson to Drake. “I think you know what it means.” Drake reads the note, each letter spelled out in crimson.
“No means no,” Drake reads aloud. “Great googally moogally! Not another one of these sickos! Must be the third one this year, and it does explain why the kid up there is wearing a dress.”
Officer Stinson looks back up into the tree. The boy is in fact still wearing his Sailor Moon outfit.
“Yeah,” Says Stinson, “We’re dealing with one twisted pervert here alright. We checked this kids journal earlier this morning. It looked like he was getting ready to try and date rape Slenderman.”
Drake shakes his head in disgust. “Sweet zombie Jesus. Kids these days, messin’ around on the interwebs, thinking that it couldn’t happen to them, then all of a sudden ‘ol Slendy gets sick and tired of being sexually harassed. Can anyone really blame him for resorting to this?”
Stinson looks down at his feet with a somber look on his face. “No, no I don’t think anyone really can. But we gotta look at it this way; at least for now, we can take comfort in knowing that this nightmare is finally over.”

Just then, the boy in the tree coughs out a spattering of blood.
“WHY? WHY DON’T YOU LOVE MEEEE?!?” He chokes out. Without hesitation, Officers Drake and Stinson pull their side arms from their holsters, emptying the clips into the whining fan boy. When the dust settles, Stinson looks back to Drake.
“Okay, now it’s over.”

Credit To – Stephan D. Harris

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The Demon Within

April 1, 2013 at 8:00 PM
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It was past midnight now, and I still had a while until I met my destination.  The girl I picked up an hour ago was asleep in the seat beside me.  She was a hitchhiker.  I couldn’t leave a teenager alone at night in the pouring rain, I had to pick her up.  She seemed pretty happy that someone was finally giving her a ride.

I didn’t know her real name, only that her friends call her “Jo.”  She looked so calm, so peaceful.  Her brown hair obscured half her gorgeous face, her lips flexed in a barely noticeable smile.  She must be having a nice dream.

I tried to remember the last dream I had, but had no luck.  Then, I felt it; a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time.  A terrible, ugly feeling.  I looked down at the girl as I drove, hoping her smiling face might help me overcome and not give in to the demon within… but I could feel it clawing to get out.

I didn’t want to.  I couldn’t.  I needed to get the girl out of the car, but that would take too long.  It would happen before then.

I continued to struggle, fighting an inner battle.  Then… No.  I couldn’t contain it.  It happened: I let out the most monstrous fart I’d ever released.   It was legendary.  It was the kind of thing kids would tell stories about to scare younger kids.

I reluctantly looked to see if the beast that escaped my body had woken the girl.  It hadn’t, but the smile had faded and she looked to be having a nightmare now.

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Arm and a Leg

April 1, 2013 at 6:00 PM
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Based on a true story, 1983.

Liam was your average 28 year old. He worked, ate, slept and gamed, as well as spending time with his family. He lived in Limerick city with his wife Mary and his children Megan and Armen.

One rainy day he was playing a bit of Contra with the teenage Armen when he yelled out in pain. Clutching his wrist, it felt agonizingly painful and lumpy. Mary came in and examined it.

“It looks like you’ve snapped something dear,” she tutted worriedly. “You’ll need surgery.”

“Oh no,” started Liam. “I don’t do surgeons. Remember the whole knee reconstruction fiasco?”

“You were able to walk again eventually honey. Besides, I was thinking of a different guy. Amy told me of someone who helped her through her whole back problems.”

“Amy, huh? Is she the one.. no, yeah – is she the one who lost the child recently?”

“Poor dear, yes that’s her.”

“Alright, we’lll see her doc. What’s his name?”

“Dr. Laspen Varas. He’s Finnish or something.”

“Could you make an an appointment?”

******************************

Dr. Varas was a tall, kind looking man who made very bad jokes. His English was poor, and Liam had trouble deciphering him sometimes. Liam was being wheeled into the operating theatre, his family walking alongside him. Dr. Varas was going over some final details. He was also to be the anesthesiologist for the procedure.

“It just wrist surgery”, he explained to an apprehensive Liam. “Not like heart surgery.” He threw his head back and laughed. Liam smiled nervously. He turned to his kids.

“See you in a bit, Armen. You too Megan. Daddy loves you.” Armen said that he and his sister would be waiting outside, and he’d Look after her while Mum went to work. Megan at six years old was too busy with her thumb in her mouth to respond. There were tears in her eyes and she clung on to her mother’s leg. Mary kissed Liam gently, then said she’d check in on them all when she got off work at five.

They halted and waved as Liam was pushed into the operating room. He tried to wave back, but the pain in his wrist was worse than ever. He gasped as he was rolled through the door; the slight judder being enough to send waves of pain shooting up his arm. Dr. Varas hooked him up to the I.V, and began the slow process of knocking him out.

Dr. Varas kept up a stream of jokes and comments, likely trying to relax Liam who’s heart rate was extremely high. As the drugs began to kick in, shapes in the room became distorted, and Varas’ voice dropped in pitch. The room began to spin and Liam could no longer understand most of what the surgeon said. He picked up the odd sentence, but they made no sense through the haze of tiredness and the strong accent.

”I’m going to take some, and spill your water.”

Time slowed down and colors danced across his eyes. The last thing the surgeon said was yet another stupid joke.

“This surgery will cost you arm and an leg.”

Liam snorted softly. His final thought before drifting into unconsciousness was ‘If losing an arm would stop this pain in my wrist, then I could deal with it.’  Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his heart rate slowed.

***********************

He woke sluggishly. Some time had passed, that he could tell. His head hurt, yet more worryingly his wrist still did too. Badly. Why was he awake if he wasn’t fixed. Then his ears started working properly.

He could hear sobbing.

Female sobbing.

He slowly opened his eyes. The theater was dark, and empty except for the figure lying next to him, her face pressed into the bed.

It was Mary. He felt a surge of panic. His body felt numb.

“Mary!” he croaked. “What’s he done to me??” She raised her head. Her mascara was running down her face and her shoulders shook horribly.

“Nothing dear,” he whispered steadily. Then her voice rose as she cried out :

“He’s taken Armen and Meg!”

Credit To: Micha3l

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The Vacation

April 1, 2013 at 4:00 PM
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A few years ago, a group of college kinds were getting ready for spring break. One informed the rest that his uncle who owns a cabin in the woods would be gone for the weekend, and gave them permission to use it as they wish.

Though one or two weren’t interested to stay in a run down old cabin for a weekend, they reluctantly agreed and took the trip.

They enjoyed their weekend and returned safely.

Credit To: Max C

DERPNOTE: This pasta is a Crappypasta Success Story. That means that it received enough upvotes during its time on Crappypasta for it to be posted on the main archive. You can find its Crappypasta entry here. Thanks, everyone!

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The Name

April 1, 2013 at 2:00 PM
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I always knew there was something wrong with my beloved grandmother. It started when she began rambling about a ‘creature.’

“It follows me,” she would whisper.
Her grey skin would become infinitely grayer.

“It talks to me,”
Her pupils dilated.

So, as any loving family would have done we assumed she was just ‘losing it’ and decided to put her in a home. Every now and again I visit my beloved grandmother and find her sitting in her chair talking to the empty room. She would turn to me and try to say something but instantly. She would tell me what she saw every night.

“White holes for eyes,”
Her frayed hair would stand up on her neck.

“It looks through my window, waiting for its chance,”
There go the eyes.

“Waiting, waiting for me to…” she went quiet for a moment “to… say it’s name…”

I dismissed this as another episode of hers and went about my life. Then one day, I went to see my beloved grandmother. As usual she was sat in her chair. But this time she turned to me and said its name.

My beloved grandmother mysteriously dissapeared that night.

To this day I struggle to think what she had called this creature stalking her for her remaining years.

Candle jack, was it?

I can’t rememb

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Jeff the Killer versus Slenderman

April 1, 2013 at 12:00 PM
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The dark, wet alley was slightly illuminated by Sarah’s cell phone light, as she shined it every few seconds to see where she was headed. Her eyes scanned the darkness, and she shook crazily. What had happened to her last night was a mystery. She thought back, back to the bar. She had just came in with some friends, just a fun night out. Nothing could have happened, or so she thought. Now she was trembling, walking from building to building at three in the morning. Again she thought back, but everything was a blur. She passed an old ratty motel, and a pub.
Sarah made her way to the outskirts of her neighborhood, around a heavily wooded area. She walked, she clenching her eyes shut tight for moments at a time. She was huddled into her coat for warmth as the cold rain covered her for what seemed like an eternity. Just as her eyelids took cover of her eyes, something shined out of the corner of her vision. She instantaneously flashed her eyes open once again, and her pupils became wide. She looked around. Nothing stood out in the blackness and rain. She spun around and continued her way back, hoping she would make it home. As she studied her surroundings, she remembered a shortcut that she took as a kid when playing “Hide and seek” with her childhood playmates.

It involved climbing through the woods. The cold woman hesitated, but came to the decision that anything that would get her to her warm home quicker is the better way. Sarah headed towards the forest. As she made her way in, the first tree she laid eyes on had been marked. What was on marked on the tree mystified her, what looked like a circle with an X inside. She knew nothing of its origin or meaning, so she just assumed this was some kind of gang symbol, or something of the sort. Making her way into the forest, she recalled the fun times she had as a kid. She thought to herself out loud.

“I miss those times. Back when the world wasn’t a ba-”

Her voice trailed off. Sarah heard the loud crack of a tree branch off in the distance behind her. Terrified, she began running through the woods, and she soon became lost. She continued on anyway, hoping for a way out. Her lack of caution quickly resulted in her leg being caught on a near lying root, and she fell to the ground. Attempting to get up caused her even more pain. She had twisted her ankle.

“Somebody please.. help me!” she called out.

The crunching of leaves became present again. She attempted to stand up and run once again, but her injury kept her in one place. She clenched her eyes shut out of fear, and as she opened them again, a tall, white man dressed in a suit stood before her. She had become visually impaired at the sight of this man. She began screaming in terror, but was soon silenced by the slender, pale man that stood before her in the dark.

Four o’ clock. What once was a young boy, now was a cold blooded psychopath. Jeff the killer had just finished what he called his “Daily rounds”. The slaughtering of innocent people, this was almost all that flooded Jeff’s mind. He dragged his feet up the wet cement as he entered what he had called his home for years. Jeff stepped foot into a world of tragic memories, clutching two whiskey bottles in hand. Jeff had become a drunken killing machine. His brain was filled with the scent of murder. One thought that did cross his psychotic mind had been there since day one. As the rain hit the weary house, Jeff began to recall the night in which he slaughtered his entire family. He chuckled at the thought. If it wasn’t for his insanity, he may have thought about regret. Remorse for taking the lives of the people he once loved. But that wasn’t possible at this point. Jeff was out for one thing and one thing only. Death.

Five o’ six in the morning. He took another swig at his alcohol.

“What in the fuck am I sitting here for..” Jeff buzzed.

As he got up to make his way into the night, he swerved a bit, and took another chug at his whiskey. The alcohol hit his warm, bloody lips, and he felt an odd sensation. A sudden urge had hit him. He stood in the room, gazing out at the forest beyond the house. Jeff checked his pockets- cigarettes, a lighter, and of course his knife. Jeff knew that something wasn’t right. The feeling he got was a mix of the urge to kill again, and something far different than what he had ever felt before.

He stormed out of his home, into the cold,wet night. Jeff was now in a dark street, his only light source being a lamp illuminating the road. The rain, still pouring, hit Jeff’s back. He started to move in the direction of the forest. He struggled a bit, his alcohol consumption that night had been extremely high. The killer approached the desolate forest. Before he entered, he took a quick glare to his left. Jeff was not far from a cemetery. He trembled towards it. A thought blew into his mind, almost like the wind on a breezy afternoon. The last piece of his family was only feet away, and it beckoned him.

He moved his feet away from the forest, and towards the graveyard. Slowly Jeff walked, yet he tripped a few times spanning the short distance. He approached a grave. Jeff graced it with the rotten odor of death, his jacket being covered in the blood and remains of his victims. Jeff simply gazed at the cold slab of granite. His vision was too distorted to make out any sort of words, because of this, he just stood and stared. Jeff’s insides began to feel uneasy, and his throat became dry. The same feeling from just minutes before.

Jeff stumbled back to the forest. While trembling towards the woodland, his eyes wandered to a tree a few feet farther out than the others. What looked like a small, greyish piece of paper could be seen hanging by a nail His eyes blurry, he was unable to read it. He took no attempt either, and crept into the darkness slowly. Almost as if he recognized this place, as if it were his true home.

Squeezing his two whiskey bottles, he studied the forest in a drunken haze. Jeff admired the darkness, it reminded him of a black hallway, one where the murderer could easily slash the necks of his victims without being seen. As he continued walking, Jeff became in a way, infatuated. The empty blackness swirled around him. Muttering to himself in unrecognizable gibberish, he continued to trot. Something felt a bit odd. The crunching of leaves seemed too loud to account for only one person. Jeff felt as if something was lurking beyond his line of sight.

“Who’s there?” Jeff growled.

An abundance of noise could be heard, but nothing out of the ordinary. The chirps of crickets grew louder as Jeff studied his surroundings.

“Come on chicken, I don’t really like games, and not hide and seek at all.”

As Jeff announced this, a quick rustling from a nearby bush could be heard. He slashed at it before the sound could come to a silence on its own. Jeff then saw what was hidden out of sight the entire time.

“Damn rats, you’re just some good for nothing pests.” Jeff proclaimed as a rodent scurried from the leaves.

After he had seen what hid in the bush, he continued his midnight stroll. The rain crashing against his back came to a slow stop. His vision was becoming very blurry, and a loud noise was growing within his head. What could be heard was just a figment on Jeff’s insane imagination, for the woods were completely silent. He tampered around, dragging his feet and cursing at the almost unbearable noise. Nothing like it had pierced his ears with such discontent before.

The noise that drowned Jeff slowly became absent. From the pain, Jeff fell to a tree. Both bottles that were once clenched into his hands fell towards the ground. One crashed against the bark, and shattered everywhere. The crack of glass had viciously dragged Jeff back into consciousness. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness one more, the blurriness was magnified as Jeff saw a white, oval like object hovering above him. His eyes quickly focused from shock, but what had been in front of him a few seconds ago was nowhere to be found.

“What in the fuck was that?”

Jeff chuckled at his own remark. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

“Now I know that ain’t no damn rats”

He hastily came to the conclusion that something had to be lurking in the darkness, following him from a distance.

“That’s it, I’m done playing games. Where the fuck are you, you bastard!?” Jeff screamed to the top of his lungs in hope of some kind of response. He was answered abruptly. As he started to walk again, he felt the slightest tingle on his neck.

“That’s not the damn air, fucker. Get the hell out of the bushes before I decide to fuck you up!” Jeff felt wild at this point. Nothing about this place was right, but he was enjoying every minute of it. Swiftly, he pulled his shining blade from his coat pocket, and began slashing at trees in the darkness.

“Come out, come out bitch!” He cried out. “No hiding now, I’ll cut every last chip of bark to slit your throat!”

Jeff pointed his knife towards a tall, thin tree protruding from the left of his vision, and stabbed. He was astonished to see that on direct contact, the tree, or what he thought was a tree faded away into the darkness in a matter of milliseconds. Not knowing what to do, he glanced quickly towards his right, and stabbed at the black of night. He peered out into the wood, and saw not what he had expected. What stood before the psychotic boy was an extremely tall, thin man, dressed in a clean, black suit. This was all that Jeff could make out at the time, the rain caused Jeff’s sight to become immensely distorted.

Jeff’s eyes had cleared again, and he quickly began to observe the man. He was emaciated, his face pale, almost pure white in color. As Jeff studied the face, he soon came to notice the lack of facial features on this man. This “Thing”’s face was completely empty, no eyes, nose, or mouth. Just a white, blank, head. This made Jeff feel a bit uneasy, and he soon broke out into a laugh. Although astounded, Jeff soon addressed the figure before him.

“So you were the bastard chasing me through the woods huh?”

Jeff stared at the blankness once more.

“You know, I don’t know what the fuck you are, but you kinda remind me of myself” “You’ve got the nice white face, but all you’re missing is a smile!”

Jeff began laughing uncontrollably at his own notion. Yet he was stopped, Jeff’s ears were assaulted by static, and he fell to the ground. He was shrouded in complete darkness as he clenched his ears for mercy. The figure Jeff earlier questioned was now causing Jeff extreme pain, while the place where his eyes should have been staring directly into Jeff’s. At that point, Jeff snapped. He broke free of the pain, drew his knife once more, and began slashing. Each one of his moves were futile, as the man moved around in no time at all, almost as if he was teleporting from place to place to avoid the attacks.

The tall man began to fight back. Jeff had just now begun to notice the tendrils hanging from the back of his attacker. They grabbed at Jeff, and his response was to swing his knife at each that came near him. Jeff managed to slice what seemed to be an arm. In almost an instant, the limb quickly grew back into place. What had just happened astonished Jeff. He felt almost as if the man was a tall tree, and his tendrils simply branches. Jeff fled from the forest, knowing that there was no way he would be able to fight whatever his adversary truly was in what seemed to be his home territory.

Jeff rushed from his attacker, and found himself at the same place where he had entered. To the right of him lie the cemetery. Open space. As he ran past the trees, he noticed one that lie away from the others. The same tree from before. He ran to it out of instinct, and read the note he had seen from a distance before.

“Do not enter these woods at night, a tall man has been spotted in the area recently, some call him the Slenderman. Beware, and enter at your own risk.”

Whatever the being that had stalked him in the woods before was referred to as Slenderman. The name fit perfect with the description of the tall, white figure. Jeff hurried towards the graveyard, where he waited for his foe, wielding his sharp, bloody, knife. Jeff’s wish had been granted, as the Slenderman approached from the woods. It seemed as if it was hesitant to leave its home court. Despite is hesitance, it left the area anyway, and quickly rushed towards Jeff. The psychopath’s instincts started to come back, and he jumped towards the tall man. Jeff was quickly grabbed by his enemy, and thrown against a nearby tree.

Jeff proceeded to swing again at the tendrils that had grabbed him. He was able to slash at one of the Slenderman’s main arms. Blood oozed from the deep cut. The white figure showed no emotion, and began snatching at Jeff once again. As he continued to smash Jeff against trees, and slabs of rock, Jeff’s knife slipped from his grip, and fell to the ground with Jeff. Colliding with the ground, Jeff’s knife slid into his own stomach in a matter of seconds. Blood poured from the wound, and soon the ground was covered in a red liquid. He stood up with a jolt.

“Is that the best you got Slendy?” “I’ve taken worse beatings from my father’s belt than you’re weak twig arms!”

The Slenderman remained silent, but continued fighting. The man reached for a piece of granite from a tombstone, but before he could take hold of it, Jeff jerked the knife from his gut, and flung it directly at Slenderman. Jeff’s accuracy was precise, and it sliced off one of the man’s limbs. Slenderman’s left arm was completely gone, as it fell to the ground with a thud. It was quickly met by thick blood that barraged from his shoulder. It was completely drenched in blood. Slenderman briskly disappeared into the darkness, but illuminated behind Jeff. In his right hand, he held a broken piece of granite, that he proceeded to slam into the side of Jeff’s head. Jeff fell to the ground once again, almost knocked unconscious.

He was not left there for long before he was seized by his assailant, and thrown against a grave. The stone exploded on impact with Jeff. Standing up once again, Jeff’s eyes focused on the name on the grave. As his eyes crossed the name on the granite, his black eyes widened. The words written across the gray slab were recognized by Jeff in an instant. It read out his brother’s name, Liu. Something was coursing through Jeff. Rage filled him within an instant, and he lashed out at Slenderman at extreme speeds. Jeff’s knife was slashing through his suit, as well as his pale skin. Slenderman began teleporting towards the forest.

“Come on bitch, I’m not finished with you yet!” Jeff hollered. “I want to help you get to sleep Randy! You look awfully tired!”

Whatever was flowing through Jeff caused his insanity to go into an overdrive state. He had become delusional. He ran at Slenderman, and back into the forest. He rushed through the woods, not observing his environment whatsoever. Jeff was deep into the forest, still pursuing the man. Slenderman continued warping around the forest. Jeff’s lack of caution caused him to trip on a branch lying in his way. As he crashed into the ground, shards of glass pierced him, and the contents of his pockets were thrown out. His items scattered the ground. As Jeff looked up with his mangled, bloody face, the scent of alcohol graced him. Jeff knew that he had been here before, he had fallen on this tree and dropped his bottle.

Jeff desperately searched the ground for his knife. He felt his hand grab hold of something warm, what he had hoped was his blade. Jeff had grabbed his liter. He quickly scrapped at it, hoping that the small flames would provide a source of light. His bloody hands covered the plastic in the red liquid. After many desperate attempts, a small, orange flame was produced. Jeff threw the liter out in front of him as he attempted to find his knife that lay close to him. Before he could make another movement, Slenderman appeared before him. The smooth white face that he had seen before was now covered in slashes and dark blood. Even though he looked hurt, Slenderman remained strong.

Jeff’s grip on the liter became loose, his blood had caused friction between it and his hand. The small blaze dropped towards the ground. Intense flames scorched as the liter hit the ground. Both adversaries fled away from the flame. Before either of them could put distance between themselves and the flame, it was ignited by the alcohol that soiled the ground. In a matter of seconds, the forest was burning from the ground up. Jeff looked for safety, yet none was to be found in the flames. Slenderman thought nothing of this, and continued to swing at Jeff. Jeff fought back, ignoring the orange and red covering his environment. The tall monster grabbed at Jeff. Jeff grabbed his knife and jumped.

To no avail, Jeff was pulled by the Slenderman, and was now stuck in his grip. Slenderman began to shake Jeff around, as he did this, Jeff bit at him, and a loud crack of bone could be heard. The pain surged through Slenderman, out of shock, he threw Jeff against a large tree. As Jeff flew towards the tree, a sharp pain hit Jeff straight in the back. It continued until he saw a large branch sliding through his torso, and he hit the base of the tree. Jeff had been viciously impaled by a long tree branch.

Blood gushed from his mouth and open wounds as he screamed out in pain. Slenderman then fled. He warped to an area of safety, where the forest had not been burned as of yet. He watched Jeff as he attempted to escape. At this point, the Slenderman knew that escape was impossible. The white monster could hear Jeff screaming, even from a large distance away. He continued to warp away from his territory, and left Jeff to burn in the flames.

The blaze became brighter, and surrounded Jeff. Struggling to avoid the intense heat, he violently slid his body from the tree. Fire engulfed Jeff, everything swirled around him. He became wrapped up into the flames, there was no hope for Jeff. He had lost his mind long ago, yet this was something different. He had reached his limit, and his state of mind burned just as the forest did.

.

“A young girl by the name of Sarah Burgess has been reported missing. She was last seen at Drop In Bar&Grill at around 9 o’ clock P.M. If you have any idea on the whereabouts of Sarah Burgess, please call the station at 404-835-HELP(4357). In other news, a major forest fire has broken out in the local area, the cause has not yet been discovered. Investigators are studying the remnants of the forest. The fire has been extinguished. This will hurt much of the animal life found in the once heavily wooded forest. We’ll bring more on this story as it comes.”

Mark turned off the television, and slumped into his couch cushion.

“Hey honey, you want to go take a look at the forest, well, whats left of it? They’ve put out the fire that burned the damn thing to the ground. There’s also a girl missing, maybe we’ll see her while we’re out there.”

“Can we do it some other time? I’m kind of busy right now Mark, and if the police can’t find that girl, there’s no way in hell we can!” Julia protested.

Mark argued. “Come on, it won’t hurt nothing. It won’t be more than a five minute walk!”

“Alright I guess, but five minutes only!”.

The man put on his shoes, and left his house with his wife. As they strolled towards the burnt out forest, they could see something moving in the opposite direction. It looked somewhat human. As they moved closer towards it, they noticed what looked like severe burns to it’s face. The creature’s eyelids were completely gone, and it carried an unnatural smile spread across his face. It was completely white, with hints of gray where it looked like he had been burned. It’s long, black hair was singed. They came closer towards it, and Mark shouted.

“Hey buddy, do you need some help?” Mark bellowed.

“Mark stop, we don’t even know who he is! He could be a fucking killer for all we know!” Julia whispered, frightened.

The man moved swiftly towards the couple. As he approached them, he drew a thick blade covered in a red liquid.

“I don’t, but I can tell you need some help to sleep.”

Jeff slashed the knife across the man’s neck, and he fell to the ground. His wife began to scream loudly. She was unable to continue, as she was next. She was stabbed directly in the heart with the knife.

“You don’t need to worry about me. Just go to sleep.”

Credit To: Dylan R. (CustomCreepyPasta)

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It Came Back!

April 1, 2013 at 10:00 AM
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Ok, I’m trying to calm down at the moment, but its locked in the next room bashing against the door. If it makes it through, I’m going to die. I’ll start at the beginning, and I’m hoping someone might be able to help me.

About a month ago, I submitted a creepypasta to this site, and didnt hear back from anyone, nor was it published. ‘oh well’ I thought, ‘either it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be, or they just haven’t accepted it yet. It’s not like if it gets ignored for a month, it will come back as a reanimated zombie corpse of a story and try to eat my brains…’ yeah, I bet that’s what you would think too!

Less than an hour ago, my desktop exploded and the tangled mess of words that formed my story burst out, lunging for my throat. Now, being the paranoid, zombie survivalist I am, I’ve always got a loaded handgun, and a baseball bat close by, just in case it turns out I’m right, and an undead army really is going to kill us all. So I shot it! I shot the first paragraph, I shot the second paragraph, I bashed every last word, and crushed every bit of pronounciation! But it didn’t stop. It just kept coming!

I lured it into the next room with my tasty tasty flesh, and have managed to lock it in there and bar the door, and I’m now writing this on my dodgy old laptop. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold that bad, zombified story at bay, and if this one comes back to life as well, well, I fear for humanities sake!

Credit To: Uforia

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DAN

April 1, 2013 at 8:00 AM
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One day, I was walking home from school. I only lived about a block away, so that was easy. But as I was walking home one day, I saw something peaking out of the sand. It was a little grey videogame cart. It had to be for the old gameboys, or maybe the gameboy colors. This was on, like, the last day of middleschool, in 2005. Shows you how old I am, right? I took it home, and put it in my Gameboy Advance (which I swore I was going to get rid of, any day now, really. No, really! I’m gonna get a DS… Eventually.)

It didn’t have a label. That should have given me a clue something was up. But I put it in the Gameboy, and it was Tetris DX. Awesome! I looked through it, and I found them. The highscores table. And at the top of the highscores table was someone named DAN, with a highscore of 683,092.

I started playing. Trying to beat that highscore. But I had homework to do, so I didn’t get very far. I went to school and told my friends about it the next day. They found it cool, and we all got together and started speculating about who DAN was, and whether he missed his game, and how he got so good at Tetris.

I came home, and stayed up… Honestly, way too late, trying to beat it. That night,t hough, I only got 49,594 as the highest. But something weird happened. When I left for school, there was a note on my front porch.

“Don’t beat my score – DAN”

There was a little picture of a stick man with a knife in his chest.

I figured one of the guys from school had put it there. Maybe Ben. Eh, whatever. Pranks aren’t very funny if you just come out IMMEDIATELY and say you did it.

It happened the next day.

“Don’t beat my score – DAN”

This time the stick figure was decapitated. I put it in my pocket and went to school. I didn’t even mention it, ‘cause I figured that they knew I’d found it. And that night, I went home, and played Tetris.

And that morning, I got a note from DAN.

“Don’t beat my score – DAN”

The stick figure was being shot in the groin by another one.

I was getting annoyed, but my friends were smart guys. They know comedy. Rule of 3s. After three times, it stops being funny. At lunch, I kind of tried to lead the conversation that way. See if I could get them to tell me about it. Tell me it was all a joke, just fun and games. But they seriously had no idea.

Eh.

Okay. That’s how they wanted to play it? Fine.

I kept playing. Every night, I went home, and played Tetris.

Every day, I got another note.

“Don’t beat my score – DAN”

And a stick figure who’d been murdered in a new, creative, gruesome way.

And then one night, finally, after a month of this, I was doing it. I was getting really, really good. Seriously, I was starting to kick ass and take names. I was up in the 100,000s regularly. Even the 200,000s sometimes.

And then, this night, I was getting in the groove. You know how there’s the right level of tired, the right level of drunk, where you’re REALLY GOOD at things?

Well I hit it. I’d been up all night, and I was getting good.

Icould tell this was it. This was going to be my high score. No, this was going to be THE high scre. I was so excited. It was going to happen. I was going to beat Dan. The Tetris tower was getting bigger. And bigger. I was in the zone, racking up points like it was my last day on earth.

And that was the night. My best night. My highest scoring Tetris night. I was playing up until the sun rose. And I went out on the porch to see if DAN was coming.

And you know what happened?

Nothing.

Monsters aren’t real. There aren’t killers stalking you, waiting for you to break some arbitrary rule, some made-up thing that only they know about. Fall into some arcane trap or push the wrong button and have your world destroyed. Have your life torn apart because of some weird videogame. That only happens in horror movies and creepypastas.

Although, to be fair, I only got 128,859

So maybe I just suck at Tetris.

Credit To: Redhat

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The Origin…

April 1, 2013 at 2:00 AM
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You hate your brother. Dylan is a jerk all the time. Any opportunity to annoy or ruin your life he’d take with both hands and run. And running literally. As soon as he’d managed to get you in trouble, he would sprint, leaving you to stew. He is always watching you. Trying to find out any embarrassing secrets to spread quicker than a disease through flesh. He once told everyone your favourite animal was a unicorn, and that same day, broke Mom’s favourite vase, and guess who he blamed for it? It’s so annoying. He’s always watching you.

You walk up the stairs to get a shower, you get a towel ready outside the curtains, and put all your clothes on the washing basket. You turn the water on, wait till the temperature is warm, and place you head under, water flying everywhere. You pull the curtains half closed, due to your paranoia, always thinking someone is behind it, watching you…

…hold on, someone IS watching you! It’s Dylan, holding his phone, about to take a picture! You yelp, but hear the click. The photo’s been taken.

“Now I can show everyone your small junk!” He sneers, and runs away.

You quickly turn off the shower, get a towel, and run to his room.

“Delete it now!” You growl.

“Oh I have.” He smiles sweetly. “But I bet Melinda won’t.”

“Melinda? The girl in your class?”

“Oh didn’t I say?” He sarcastically mocks. “I sent it to her, and I bet she’ll spread it to someone else, and they will spread it someone else…”

“I’m gonna tell Mom!” You cry.

“What proof? Photo’s gone remember?” He smirks.

You can’t believe this, this is the worst prank yet. You’ll have to go to school, everyone seeing the photo. You go to bed.

You wake up in the morning, and groan, today is going to be awful. When you get off the bus, you are greeted to mocking laughs. You sigh and hastily walk into the field.

It’s been 5 hours of non-stop mocking and laughing, feeling miserable and it’s finally last lesson, science. You are doing a methane gas production experiment. Although you aren’t, you’re standing up with your hands in your pockets, you couldn’t do this experiment. You had been pre-occupied and not paying attention, ignoring all the spiteful comments around you. You manage to do this all lesson, until Mr. Monney (the science teacher) looks at you.

“What happened to your experiment?” He asks you.

“I, uh, didn’t do it sir.” You admit.
“Well.” He smiles. “You can do it after school today then.”

The class cackles cruelly at your punishment. Your heart sinks. You want to go home as soon as possible.
5 minutes later, you’re alone in the class with Mr. Monney, grumpily fiddling with the experiment.
“Unfortunately I can’t leave you un-attended.” He starts from the doorway. “So Mr. Franklin will watch you.”

You sigh, Mr. Franklin was the old, overweight, Spanish caretaker. He waddles in, hating this as much as you. You peer down the vial in your experiment. You’d make Dylan pay for this; you’d get your revenge. You’d get back at all the crap he’s done to you. Get even, one day. You peek at Mr. Franklin. He’s pulling out a cigarette, and is about to light it.

“Sir, teachers don’t allow smoking.”

“I am teacher.” He grunts in his deep, strongly Spanish voice. He raises his lighter to the tip of the cigarette.

You remember! Methane is highly flammable!

“SIR, DON…”

But it’s too late; a huge, flaming fire ball leaps out of the air, the flames licking at your flesh. It’s hard to describe, the fire is rushing through you, the intense heat overwhelming. You can feel your skin melting, and dripping off, your limbs becoming weak, your muscles and skeleton exposed.

The accident had removed you of most your skin and muscle leaving bitty, dangling remains of flesh off you. You were presumed dead, but you aren’t. You are watching your house from a distance. The pain you went through was all Dylan’s fault! Your body wasn’t found, because you escaped. Although the anatomy of the situation was impossible, you should have died, every agonising moment as you crawled away, was a reminder of your hatred towards Dylan. Inch by painful inch, you managed to live.

You’ll get revenge; you’ll do everything he did to you. You’ll watch him in the bathroom., tell everyone what his favourite animal is, you might break something and say it was you! And there’s NOTHING, HE CAN DO TO STOP YOU, AND GUESS WHAT?

…YOU ARE A DEAD SKULL!

 

Credit To: YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE USERNAME!

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The Twist: A Parody

April 1, 2013 at 12:00 AM
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Don’t read this because it actually works. Now youve started reading, you can’t stop. A girl named Kathy drowned to death. If you email or repost this comment to three more videos, tommorrow will be the best day of you life. If you don’t repost this comment on at least three videos, Kathy will come for you when your sleeping. This is so scary because it actually works

Billy examined the message. He hummed and hawed over it, scratching his chin. On any other day, Billy would have done what the message said. After all, he didn’t want to die within three days, and he did want to have the best day of his life “tommorrow”.  But today was different. Today, Billy was eight years old, far too old to be dabbling with such nonsense. He had tried repeating similar messages in the past, and his only reward had been dozens of people on the internet sending him nasty replies.
Hesitantly, Billy placed his mouse over the red X at the top right of the email and pressed it down. The email closed, and as it did, Billy felt shivers run down his spine. But Billy was too old to be scared by such nonsense. He got up from his chair, and headed to the kitchen to find his mom.
His mom was preparing a delicious tuna casserole, Billy’s favorite. “Now, Billy,” said his mom, taking the steaming casserole out of the oven, “Remember, this is for lunch tomorrow. Don’t eat it before bed, or it will give you nightmares.” His mom left the room. “I’m going to work now. Make sure you’re in bed in a few minutes, alright?”
Billy nodded.  Billy’s mom left the house, and he heard the slam of the front door. Billy was all alone now. It was time for him to go to bed soon, and he didn’t want to have any more frightening thoughts. But the casserole… it looked so good! Surely, thought Billy,  a simple taste would have no effect on me!
Billy took a stepstool and sampled the irresistible tuna casserole. It melted into his mouth, and filled Billy with a sense of euphoria. Surely, another taste couldn’t hurt. Billy cut himself a slice and took it to his bedroom. After messily devouring the meal, Billy fell asleep.
~
Billy awoke with a start. He heard a noise in his room. It was a creeping, sloshing sound, like the sound of a boot sinking into a muddy puddle. At first, Billy thought that it was his mom coming home from work, but after checking the digital clock that glowed bright red in the darkness, he realized that his mom wouldn’t be hoe for another few hours.
The sloshing sound continued. Billy sat up straight, listening intently to whatever it could be. He crept downstairs, and saw muddy footprints leading straight into the front hall of his house. He gasped. Now, Billy was frightened. Now, Billy felt like a child, too young to be a part of such a frightening world. He considered bolting out the front door, but Billy calmed himself down; maybe it was simply his mother, home early, after all.
Billy crept after the footprints. Billy knew that his mother would never trek such a mess through his house. But Billy still had to be sure. The footprints came to a dead stop in the kitchen. Billy poked his head through the doorway and turned the lights on. There, sitting on the kitchen table, was a girl about his age, eating the tuna casserole.
Her hair was matted, wet and black, her skin, fetid and rubbery, and her eyes glowed as red as his alarm clock upstairs. Billy gasped, startling backwards and crashing against the wall, sliding to the ground. The girl got up off of the table and steadily advanced towards him. “What’s wrong with you?” she said, “I’m just-”
Billy wouldn’t listen to the she-witches’ horrible taunting. He tore past her, and grabbed the nearest weapon in the room: the tuna casserole. Using the brunt of the glass container, he smashed it over the girl’s head. A steady stream of blood poured from it, and the girl lifelessly collapsed to the ground.
The tuna casserole was now spread all over the floor, messily decorating it with bits of cheese and fish. Billy took a sigh of relief, as any moment now the girl would evaporate into a puff of black smoke. However, the girl just lay there lifelessly.
Billy thought, for a moment, that he had made a mistake. He kicked the girl a bit, but she continued to lay there lifelessly. Looking outside, he noticed that it was raining, which probably explained her hair and the boots. Billy shook the girl frantically, but there was no response.
Billy started to cry, and as he did, he noticed the girl stirring. Still not sure of what to think, Billy grabbed a piece of glass from the shattered casserole. He grasped it so hard that blood formed at the edge of his hand. The girl rose up, and one of her hands shot towards Billy. As she choked the life out of him, she reached down and began eating the tuna casserole.
~
Billy awoke with a start. His chest puffed in and out as he steadied his thoughts. Looking around, he perceived that the previous events had all been a horrible dream. There was no crazy demon ghost girl after all. He sighed in relief, but noticed something wet on his hand. Looking at his hand, he saw the glass he had taken from the tuna casserole, and the blood that had formed after he pierced his skin by holding it too hard!
~
Billy awoke with a start. Before doing anything else, Billy looked at his hands. Completely c lean, he thought. Absolutely no blood, no signs of conflict, everything was right with the world. It was still dark out, but his mother would be home soon. Billy looked around, and then let himself relax. “Thank God I’m done with these nightmares,” he said.
“Don’t thank Him yet,” said a voice coming from the doorway. He looked up and saw the girl again, this time holding a butcher’s knife.
~
Billy awoke with a start. Not ready to be fooled again by his dream, he first checked his hands: clean, free of blood. He looked at the doorway: vacant, not a soul in sight. He held his breath and listened for muddy footsteps, but not a single one was heard. Terrified, Billy crept out of his bed, and decided to wait on the couch for his mother to get home.
He grasped the metal banister and began his slow descent downstairs. As he did, he looked around, desperate for signs of foul-play. When none were spotted, Billy made it to the couch, and waited for his mom to come home.
After a few minutes of tense, nerve-wracking waiting, the door swung open, and his mom, back from her night shift, greeted him with a smile. “What are you doing up so late?”
Billy’s eyes were filled with tears. “I’ve… I’ve been having these terrible nightmares. I accidently had some of the casserole, and… and…”
Billy’s mom shook her head. “Billy. You haven’t been having nightmares. You ARE the nightmares.”
Billy’s mom’s head exploded into a writhing snake with matted, wet hair and a venomous bite. Her arms twisted into laughing clown heads, while the rest of her body oozed red pus. Billy screamed as it descended upon him.
~
Billy awoke with a start. For a few hours, he was too afraid to do anything but silently sob to himself in his bed. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted the nightmare to be over.
Billy knew that this was a nightmare. Sure, there were no signs to prove it, but there would be soon. Undoubtedly, there would be soon. Billy ran downstairs, just as his front door opened. “Billy!” said his mother, “what are doing racing around the house at this time of night?”
Billy ran past his mother, knowing that soon she would become a nightmare. Billy only had one destination: the luger that was hidden deep downstairs, in a safe. Billy knew that if he could get his hands on that gun, he could blow his brains out, and the dream would be over.
His mom chased after him, screaming things that his mother would scream, like “Get back here, Billy!”,”You should be in bed by now!”, “You ate the casserole, didn’t you?” and “Where are you going?” Billy made her no mind, and headed into the basement.
He spotted the safe. Billy’s mom couldn’t keep up with him, and was now only walking after him. It would give him enough time to do what he needed to do.
Billy knew the combination to the safe, although his mom thought that he didn’t. The luger was his father’s, and now he planned on putting it to use. His inputted the combination, and took the gun out of its place, right as his mother burst through the door to the basement.
“Billy!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes, “Put that gun down this insant! NOW! NOW!”
Billy wouldn’t fall for her tricks. He placed the gun to his temple and closed his eyes. “BILLY!” yelled his mother, frantically. “NO! NO!”
Billy pulled the trigger. The bullet went clean through his brain, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.
Billy’s mom collapsed to her knees and cried, reflecting on what a royally idiotic idea keeping the luger downstairs and assuming Billy didn’t know about it was. After hours of crying, she phoned the police.
The police showed up, asked her questions, and took her into custody. Billy’s body was sweeped up, and would be put into the newspaper. People from all over the world would wonder what brought this boy to such a tragic end.
Aw, who are we kidding.
~
Billy awoke with a start. He rubbed his temple and sighed. “That is it,” he said, “No more God damned tuna casserole before bed.”

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