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Pass It On



Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

It’s quite an interesting concept: those little “pass it on” messages, I mean. Chain letters and people telling you, “post this in five different comments or else you’ll die tonight.” Interesting indeed, but the idea lacks originality. It’s the same story with each one. “Pass it on or die.” People pass it on, and they go on living – a happy ending for everyone. But…what if there was a little twist?

Let’s say that there’s a photo out there. It’s not one of those “can’t be found anywhere else” type of pictures. It’s actually really easy to find. Just use your chosen search engine and type in “black and white photo of twins.” You should be presented with a variety of different black and white photos of twins, but let me help and tell you what to look for. You’re looking for a picture of two twin girls wearing black dresses and white headbands. The twin on the left has a straight face while the one on the right is smiling.

Found it? Good. Now, as you’ll see, there’s nothing particularly unnerving about the photo. It may be a little creepy, but other than that it looks as normal as any other picture you’ve ever come across.

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Now, here’s the twist. If you do pass it on, you die. Now, I know most of you, given this particular set of choices, would choose to leave the picture be. But allow me to elaborate upon what happens when you don’t pass this picture on to someone else. If you leave it alone after seeing it, you’ll have nightmares. I know… I know… bad dreams don’t sound so bad when compared to the alternative. But trust me… it gets worse.

It all begins with something simple. Before long you’ll see the twins, standing side by side in the darkness. The girl on the left will leave, and you’ll be left alone with her smiling twin. And just before you wake up, she’ll whisper “pass it on.” And her smile will widen, ever so slightly.

I know… it doesn’t sound like much of a nightmare. The first of many, it’s fairly subtle, but with each successive nightmare, things begin to change. Gradually the smiling girl gets closer and closer to you, while her smile widens to impossible lengths. You won’t be able to help but feel greatly disturbed and unsafe when it happens. Don’t worry, that’s normal. What’s next, however… not so much.

You’ll try to wake yourself up. You’ll try to move, but nothing will work. You’ll find yourself trapped. She’ll bring out various instruments. A knife. Chains. Gasoline. Matches. Many devices to make you feel uneasy.

Then you panic. You can’t help but think of all of the horrible things this twisted, sadistic child has in store for you… and does she ever have some horrible things in store for you. Let’s take a moment to think about the possibilities.

What do you think she’ll do to you? Wrap the chains around your head and pull until your skull splits? Gouge out your eyes? Cut out your tongue? Slice off your ears? Burn you alive, knowing that you can’t move? That and more, my dear. You take the term “unimaginable torture” too lightly until you fall asleep. If you think she’ll lash you with chains, she’ll do so only after she’s laid them in fire and stuck railroad spikes in your back. If you think she’ll burn you, she’ll tear open your torso, pour gasoline into the wound and then light the match.

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You’ll wake up screaming. Your body will remember the pain it’s endured while you quiver in fear. Every time you wake up, you’ll notice subtle differences about your body. A bruise here, a scratch there. But, as each nightmare gradually gets worse, so do the marks which shall be left behind. Before long the scratches will become fresh, bloody scars. If you dreamt that you took a sledgehammer to the knee, you’ll wake and rise, only to find your legs buckling below you as pain surges through your kneecaps. All the while, her words linger in the back of your mind.

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You’ll try to avoid sleeping but it’s no use. The twins make their way into your reality. They’re always there. At your home. At your place of work, or at school. You would fight back, but their visage appears in place of the faces of your loved ones. Eventually, you’ll hide yourself away from everyone, in an effort to avoid seeing these demonic children. It’s all in vain, however. You’ll see them in that millisecond of darkness when you blink. You’ll see them in reflections, and in your peripheral vision – you’ll see them everywhere. You can’t escape. You can consider suicide, even attempt it, but they won’t let you go so easily. That shotgun that you’ve got hidden in the closet? The revolver in the nightstand? Useless. How strange: they seem to be jammed, or missing a trigger. A cocktail of cold and flu and pain medications won’t help, either. It’s so very odd, indeed, how you just can’t seem to hold them down long enough for them to take effect.

Soon enough, you won’t be able to distinguish your dreams from reality. You’ll awake from one torturous experience only to be greeted by alternative horrors. Without realizing it, you’ve given the twins a new playmate. And do they ever like to play. Well, at least one does. While one “plays” with you, the other will stand there, watching, chanting “pass it on” over and over again, all the while ignoring your cries for help.

There’s no happy ending to be had. Should you remain optimistic, I’m afraid you’re just as naive as those who came before you. And there were many, oh so many. And you won’t be the last, I’ve made certain of that.

Now, now… you have a decision to make.

Now that you’ve seen the picture and discovered the consequences, whatever shall you do?

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Might you leave the picture be, and pray that this was just some twisted story?

Or will you decide to… pass it on?


Credit: Emma Froh (FacebookDeviantArtYouTube • )

This story is preserved in loving memory of Emma Froh (September 13, 1992 – December 6, 2014)

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