The Town Of Blanche
| Published on Creepypasta.com | September 2008 |
|---|---|
| Length | 343 words · about 2 minutes to read |
| Story level | Micro |
| Reader rating | 2.6/10 from 3,894 votes |
| Category | Locations and Sites |
If you visit France’s Cote d’Azur in your lifetime, do everything you can to avoid a small town called “Blanche”. I was in the country once with my parents, around 8 years ago (I was 12 at that time; we were on a family vacation), and we found ourselves looking for a place to get some rest and enjoy some of the local color. We were getting really hungry on the road, so it was with some luck that a town, unmarked on our map, rose unexpectedly on the horizon. This was the town of Blanche.
Immediately after we entered Blanche, we noticed that the colors of the houses were darker than anything I had seen in my entire life – it’s not like they were black or grey, they were normal colors for walls – they just look… not right. It’s hard to explain; almost like it was a color that we don’t even have a word for because it’s so dark and strange.
A few minutes after driving around the town, we all began to notice the fishy stench – like a Friday market, except for the fact that no fish were being sold. The people in the town also had a really weird skin tone, almost frostbitten and tinged a deep blue – if I recall correctly, my father said something like “These guys sure look like the sea.” We had originally planned to stay in the town for a while, but my mother and my sister were so disturbed by the creepy atmosphere and the town’s denizens that they insisted that we keep driving and find a different town to stay the night.
When we arrived in the next town, it was like we all gave a gigantic sigh of relief at once – we felt that we were back in normal civilization. However, the people who ran the inn that we stayed at in the second town did tell us some very freaky stories about Blanche – stories that made us really glad that we didn’t stay there…
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goddamn deep ones
goddamn deep ones
A Shadow Over Hackdirt, quest from Elder Scrolls Oblivion.
Hey I live in Blanche! >:( who the hell wrote this story!? Blanche is the best place ever!
too vague to be at all scary.
SUCH AS?
BUT WHO WERE UNHYGIENIC PROSTITUTES!?
YOU IS FAIL
sucked
Hello.
Again, worthless.
D:<
This story fails at being creepy. So you went to a town and heard some things. Care to SHARE WHAT THOSE THINGS ARE? Like, for all we know, the blue people could have been smurfs or something!
Now THAT would be a creepy tale.
This one time, a man was talking to me, and he told me a lot of scary stories.
Have you shit bricks yet guys?
I agree the stories should have been told!i was waiting for somthing to spooky too happen in the town :\
This story was as vague as that one store that was on this site.
THE BLUE MAN GROUP IS IN FRANCE.
…Maybe if it had said WHAT the stories were, it could’ve been an okay pasta. But as it was it was just bad.
This story sucked. I kidnapped the author just for failing so hard.
Candlejack, what are you doing h
Damn it, Candlejack, not this shit aga
yawn.
No John you are deep one!
This sucked. Seriously. Really bad story. Maybe add something, I don’t know, creepy?
I thought it was creepy.
Hell no we got coked last year and that was enough
Coked…you got coked…My friend…last I checked, coked wasn’t a word. Here are some suggestions:
choked
cooked
I love you.
Not untill you eat all of your sprouts.
Hey, can we come?
WHO WAS ENDING?
Hey, Crab man, how you been? It wasn’t us either.
You guys coming to the fish fry?
Postscript: turns out the guy had Alzheimer’s.
Story rewrite: I was drivin’ through this zombie-fish-man town, and then I was like, oh shit, I better get out of here. So then I drove out and I talked to this guy in the next town, and I’m like, that Blanche town about 30 miles from here is pretty freaky, and he’s like, there’s nowhere called Blanche anywhere near here… BUT WAIT, THEN WHO WAS TOWN?!
Umm.. this wasn’t particularly that well-done.
Maybe if the we could hear the stories, it would be better. Or have some situation happen at their hotel and ask others about it, like the man staring through the key hole at that hotel.
This was more of an introduction than an actual story. It could’ve been better if you told us one of the scary stories instead of telling us that the stories exist. It’s like me telling you about a really nice car and right before I tell you how to get it, I just stop.