[center:2cqa10vj]This is is where I will be posting my short stories. I mainly write stories called Creepypasta, which is pretty much...well...creepy stories. Although a lot of them are long (like the infamous Joseph K.'s), mine are quite short and to the point.
Thank you for reading, and have a nice day.
And oh, about that shadow in the corner...Don't worry. It can't hurt you.
While you're awake at least.[/center:2cqa10vj]
It's Just the Pipes
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]My name is Allen. I worked as a caretaker of an old mansion in central Wisconsin. I was the only one who worked there, and nobody but me lived there, either. It got kind of boring sometimes. I spent the day wandering and cleaning the old place, and sought refuge in whatever room I could find when I was ready to sleep.
I swear, that house was huge. Sometimes, I thought new rooms appeared out of nowhere, and some would seem to disappear. There was always the sound of the house and pipes settling, and it had always reminded me of someone or something moaning or knocking. However, it was a large and old mansion, and in my senility I tended to get a bit confused sometimes, so it was likely I just got lost a lot.
However, there was one encounter in that place that has left me rattled ever since. I was wandering through yet another "new" hallway, when I happened across a blank wall. I was shocked, as almost every inch of available wall space was covered in doors or windows.
As if alerted by my presence, that moaning sound started up again -- nearer this time. It was as if someone or something was knocking and yelling to be let out, the sound muffled.
The house has been empty -- except for me -- for the last 50 years, since the last caretaker before me mysteriously left, with no explanation why he would do that. So, I ignored it. I got up and left that God forsaken place, and slept on a bench in a nearby children's park. You know, the kinds with the miniature train and tunnels?
I woke up in my usual room in the mansion. But something struck me as odd....there were no windows or doors. I searched and searched, but I could not find any. It was as if I was sealed in there, a punishment for trying to leave. So I picked up this notebook that I found, and began to write.
I can hear someone walking around, sweeping the hallways, but they are ignoring my cries for help. Or possibly they just can't hear me.
Maybe if I knock on the walls.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
Getting Lost in a Book
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]Have you ever gotten lost in a book? Where you are exactly doesn't matter, whether it be a library or the cozy corner of your study. The only thing that does matter, however, is you need to be fully immersed in a book.
Do you know the feeling after you've put a good book down? I would say that it is comparable to someone waking up from a deep and restful sleep; your eyes are unfocused, thoughts and images running across them, your sense of hearing and smell muffled -- but returning -- to normal. You've come back, the book nearly had you for a second there. You've managed to escape getting lost in a book one more time.
Just be careful out there.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
Spreading the Good Word
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]Welcome to Christ the Servant Lutheran Church. Don't be shy, come on in! I never fail to recognize a face, and I have seen you a few times before. But come, join us! Newcomers are always welcome here at Christ the Servant.
See? It's much warmer in here, better than outside! I'm surprised you didn't die of frost it'd out there, considering how cold it is, haha. Just hang your coat over there by everyone else's, and let the Good News of the Lord take care of you.
See that woman over there? Yeah, the one wearing the red and green reindeer sweater. Her name is Betty, our organist. She has to be approaching 100 now, God bless. Poor woman, she came down with a bad case of arthritis a few years ago, but she still plays the organ beautifully!
And that man, up at the front? That's Reverend Hayes. He moved here after our last pastor -- Pastor White -- came down with the swine flu last year during that outbreak. We're not that fond of him, and he isn't that fond of us, but somehow we made it all work.
The woman over there, sitting as near to Reverend Hayes as she can, do you see her? That's Ms. Dumphres. She is in charge of feeding our little church, and she always brings in the coffee and donuts. We try not to hurt her feelings, but they taste horrid.
And the teenager, over in the corner. That's Ms. Dumphres' grandson. He's in general a nice kid, but he blasts his eyePod or whatever it is all the time during sermon. And, to top it all off, he's sick today too. He's constantly coughing -- although he tries to make it as quiet as he can -- and it's interrupting my lesson for today.
So why don't you take a seat, poor stranger? I wouldn't want you to get sick out there.
And - Oh....ew. The kid just started hacking up a lung. I would stay away from him, it looks contagious. I mean, look at his Grandmother! She's begun to do the same as well.
I would seriously reccomend sitting on the other side of the church, stranger. Betty's begun to cough a little as well, but bless her heart, she's still playing beautifully.
Oh...Oh dear God in heaven. The kid's run off to the bathroom, most likely about to puke. His Grandmother just ran off to the ladies' room, probably about to do the same.
I would plug your ears, stranger. I'm going to try and yell loudly so that I can warn everyone to go outside quick, oka- Wait, is Betty puking now, too?
Everyone, get out! There's something in the - *cough *cough* Something in the air! Quickly, to the doors! I'll hit the *cough* the fire alarm, to warn the fire department!
Hold up, everyone! Trying to cram at these doors won't work! Stand back, you're squishing the people up front!
God dammit, you stepped on my *cough* foot!
When the fire department arrived, not two minutes later, they pushed the doors open with ease. Not a single member of the Congregation had survived, not even the Pastor.
Upon closer inspection, however, they did find one survivor. A poor young woman had managed to hide herself in the confessional, which -- unlike the rest of the windows in the church -- could actually open to the outside and let fresh air in.
When they removed her from the window for questioning, she would not utter any noises to tell them what had happened -- except for one small cough.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]There is a very peculiar tree out there. Due to the circumstances surrounding it, I cannot tell you where it is. I'm not really sure myself. I do know, however, that it has killed before. And it will again.
The Tree, as it is called by the media, was the focus of their attention for about a week. Then, it can be assumed that the news companies were paid to never run the story again. Or something happened to them, I don't know. I don't want to know, either.
What I do know, however, from my time from studying the tree itself, is that it releases special pheromones. These pheromones are similar to the ones released by moths during courtship, in that it attracts animals of the opposite sex to it.
The pheromones, once inhaled or ingested, will remain inside the body for approximately 48 hours. This is the incubation period, for lack of a better term. Those who have the chemicals inside them will find themselves infatuated with someone of the opposite gender. Regardless of sexuality, it is always someone of the opposite sex. There have been no cases of a love triangle forming, or any homosexual relationships forming from the Tree's effects.
However, when the first 48 hours are up - the incubation period for the pheromones - they will be excreted through the urine of those infected. When the pheromones are no longer present, the dominant personality of the relationship will be filled with an indescribable rage and murder their partner. This is usually the male of the two, but cases of females committing such acts have been recorded.
This tree, upon further testing, was found to be immune to any diseases that were introduced to it. These include natural diseases such as malaria and the cold, and human-caused diseases such as AIDS. Traditional plant and weed killer also had no effect.
The bark is too tough to cut through, and thus, it is nearly impossible to get a trunk sample to find the age of the Tree. However, based on the size of the root structures, it is at least 1000 years old. The roots extended for at least a mile in each direction, and scans showed that, at their peak, the roots went at least one half mile deep into the earth.
Paintings of the early 19th century reveal that this exact tree stood where it is today, and has not grown since. Entries of personal diaries have been found that mention the Tree, and they date to at least the 1600s.
All attempts to kill or remove the Tree have been unsuccessful. Fire will not burn the trunk, and the root system is too immense to uproot. It appears that it does not need to live on photosynthesis, as, when the leaves were carefully removed, it lived by sapping the nutrients out of the ground and those who came into contact with the surrounding area.
Security personnel are stationed around the tree twenty-four/seven. They are all of the same gender, and of heterosexual orientation, to prevent the side effects of prolonged exposure to the tree. They are switched out every six hours, with another team of security personnel of the same gender and heterosexual orientation.
Items placed around the tree, such as dolls, toys, wallets, and in some cases, animals, will disappear. Cameras that are looking at the tree will not function properly. Once placed under the Tree, said items will disappear and reappear somewhere across the globe.
Any living or once-living creature that have been placed under the tree have never been found, although a skull will sometimes be found in the branches.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]It all started when a woman - approximately thirty years of age - was informed that there was severe internal bleeding and inflammation behind her left eye. Although she had felt no pain, her daughter had remarked that her Mother's eye looked red and blotchy.
She had immediately gone to the doctor's office, although her daughter had to drive her there, the eye had begun to leak pus and small amounts of her blood, and ran to the Emergency Room.
Upon examination by the professionals at Clearview Hospital, her fears were confirmed. She would have to get her eye taken out and replaced with another human eye, which was yet to be found by the staff.
If only the story ended there.
However, as the poor woman was about to find out, her luck had long run dry. After a week of searching for a sufficient eye donor, the medical team in charge of the case caught a break. A suitable eye was recovered.
The eye, with a lovely seafoam-green iris, once belonged to a convicted criminal, who was charged with first-degree murder.He was euthanized by means of the lethal injection. Once he was pronounced dead, the eye was removed and shipped to Clearview Hospital.
The operation was a success, and the patient was sent home after she was deemed well enough to leave.
At this point, most of what the press knows is cut short, or untrue and fabricated so that they had something to air on the news that night.
But one fact that everyone agrees on - police and public alike - is that she was not ready to have left the care at Clearview Hospital. upon entering her home, she was horrified to find her living room was covered in blood, and that her daughter, although she was the one who had drove her home, was lying in a pool of her own blood.
The authorities were called, and the hysterical and hallucinating woman was sedated but given another clean bill of health.
The hallucinations continued, each getting progressively gorier than the last. Everyone that she met, whether it be a stranger or her daughter, she was seeing them as murdered in her house. Eventually, it was deduced that the woman was somehow experiencing each of the murderer's crimes from his point of view.
At this point in time, the woman tried to kill herself multiple times. Each attempt was, however, unsuccessful.
She was eventually placed in a mental facility, where she would be examined and kept under strict security.
More assassinations at her life were attempted, although most of them were self inflicted. Other patients, for some reason, could not stand the sight of the woman, and they all agreed that there was something very, very wrong about her.
The hallucinations began to torment her so much, that, in more than one case, she began to attempt to kill other inmates, along with herself.
She was moved to an intense care unit when one last attempt was almost successful. It killed the other inmate, but only wounded herself.
The woman began screaming that the hallucinations were telling her to kill everyone around her, even herself.
When it was concluded that nothing could help the poor woman, they, with her, the family, and the State's approvals, euthanized her.
Her heart was sent out to an eager recipient for an emergency transplant the next day.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]Well hello there, dear reader. I am so sorry that you are reading this, as it might just be the last thing you do. You see, upon entering my site, you saw an ordinary looking spider web. Or so you thought. Upon further inspection, you noticed that, by clicking and dragging your mouse/computer trackpad, that you could move my web to your will.
It was fun at first. You seemed to always destroy the beautiful center of my web (which took me hours, thank you very much) first, and would reload the page once you had snapped every little strand of fine silk. You just kept stretching it, and stretching it, until parts of it snapped under the pressure. You got down to the last thread, and, instead of letting it go and starting a new page, you took it's poor life as well. Little did you know what you were doing, and that is why I feel sorry for you, because you're just like all of the rest.
You see, every time you snapped a cord, a life somewhere on the earth ended. It might not have been someone's you had known, and it might not even been a humans, but something died nonetheless. How does that feel? To know you killed something or someone? And every time you destroyed the delicately crafted center, the last person to go onto my site and destroyed my web perished.
Now pardon me, dear reader, as I have to excuse myself; someone just broke my web again. I must be off to fix it.
note: no, its not actually my site. o.o[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
Memoir of a Botanist
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]I looked down at my Lilly. "Save me," she seemed to beg. But she can't beg, can she? Or talk? She's such a beautiful flower. So beautiful...yet so tragic at the same time.
"Save me, Liam," she begs again.
I did this. I took her. I plucked her up, tore her from her roots. I put her on display for all to see. But she's so beautiful, worthy of my collection.
"Save..me..." she calls out.
Lilly's beautiful eyes close, and is finally still.
Now if you would please excuse me, I have found a beautiful little Rose to add to my collection.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]I looked at my dear Victoria, who lay on the soil beneath the Willow tree. Her eyes, which had been be a stormy gray, were now covered in a milky film.
I began to sob. Not since she had died - no, definitely not that - merely from what I had seen.
Her eyes had opened, and glowed a sickly green. She lifted her hand, extended it, and pointed at me. And, with her stitched lips, said three words.
"I'll be waiting."[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
Note: we were supposed to write a short story without a certain letter. I had gotten the letter "U".
Tourist Trap -on the main page of Creepypasta.com. <3-
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]In rural Wisconsin, there is an old abandoned park. Built in the 1920s, it served as the town's gathering place for children, teenagers, adults, and the like.
That is, until a newly developed Train and Tunnel for Tots™ ride was installed in 1932. It was an innocent looking childish train, with one main (mechanized) head car, with three small trolleys pulled behind it. It went around some loops before going into a small tunnel.
But this is where the story gets weird. There were numerous cases of child deaths that year, all of them happening after the child rode on that train system. Some kids went missing in that short tunnel (about ten feet), and others went comatose after leaving. One, upon exiting, was found to be dead. Her dress was covered in what looked like small bloody handprints. Some killed themselves by scratching at their throats until they bled out, and one of them even killed another child before hanging herself with razor wire at the family’s farm.
The park was closed, and the town's popularity as a tourist town plummeted.
Recently, a team of scientists were sent out to the park. They taped a video camera to the train, and put a new intern in with it, before sending it on its way onto the tracks.
When the train left the tunnel, it was empty, save for the camera.
When played back, there was nothing but static until the last ten seconds (the time it took to go through the tunnel).
The last ten seconds were filled with the sounds of children's laughter.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
God Save the Past
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]As we crested over the hill, Grandma points out another old house. It's roof is caved in, porch gone, and it's empty windows stare out like eyes.
"**** lived here. He's dead now. Nobody lives there anymore."
Well obviously nobody lives there Grandma, I think. Who would want to?
But still, being the amateur photographer I am, I pull over and take some photos of the old decrepit house. It looks cool against the now dark, stormy sky. I get back into the car and drive away again.
Grandma raises a bony finger as we pass another (half fallen down) house and barn.
"My great-great aunt ***** lived there. She's dead now too."
Great. But yet again, I get out and take more snapshots of the beautiful Wisconsin countryside.
We drive out past the ****, ***** Road, and ***** taking pictures of all of the old decaying houses. Wow, there sure are a lot of them out here. There's even an old schoolhouse! It's old, faded, tattered flag ripples in the breeze.
Finally, we pull up to Grandma's house. She turns to me, her empty eye sockets trying to look at me. Before crumbling to dust, she utters a sentence that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
"God save the past."[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]
[spoiler:2cqa10vj]I'm afraid of the dark. I've actually been afraid of it since I was very, very young. Evidently, most kids that are my age were as well.
But I'm different. Or at least I think so.
]Because truth be told, it's not the dark I'm afraid of. Merely what is hiding in it.
I bet you all know the feeling. A bump in the night. A tree scratching at the window. The creek-creek of your closet door opening a crack in a non-existent breeze.
It's at this point that most kids start screaming for their mother, pretending to want a glass of water, one last hug before they fall asleep, or whatever else.
The older kids won't do that. Instead, they find an excuse. They go check their Twitter, Facebook, or (God help us) Myspace, just hoping that the dim glow of the computer screen will keep the monster in the closet at bay. Others, without access to a computer, will turn their lights on.
I couldn't find you in the dark.[/spoiler:2cqa10vj]