Creepy very short stories.
For a while now I've been collecting "creepy-pasta" stories from various message boards. They're very short "copy and paste" stories or messages made to creep you out. Thought I'd share what I have! I didn't write any of these.
Example:
While brushing your teeth in the evening, you catch a glimpse of your wall mirror, covered in fingerprints. Annoyed, you grab a towel and rub at them. They remain. Upon closer inspection, you realize that they seem to be on the other side of the glass...
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I am Thomas's reflection. Every morning, he rises from sleep and walks into the bathroom. ...and he makes faces. I am so tired of the faces. He makes them for at least half an hour. Mocking, ridiculous faces. I have no choice but to mimic his every action, although inside I am seething with anger. He does this every day... well, USED to. One morning he awoke as usual, and entered the bathroom. On this particular morning, against his will, he picked up a pair of scissors. On this particular morning, against his will, he gripped those scissors tightly in his fist. ...on this particular morning, entirely against his will, he plunged those scissors directly into his right eye. Thomas screamed, and screamed. I screamed and screamed too - with one difference. I can't mimic his pain.
Just
his
face.
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You wake up one morning to find a note taped to your mirror: "Don't worry, I took care of everything." Your clothes have been freshly laundered, the bathroom is spotless, and your garage has been organized. Even your faithful old toolbox has been replaced.
Later that week, there's another note on your mirror: "GET OUT OF TOWN." Paper-clipped to this message are several grainy photos of police in a taped-off section of a field. One of them is carrying your old toolbox in his latex-gloved hand.
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All mirrors are actually windows to another world.
This world cannot be reached, and shouldn't be reached, as all our mirror-selves are extremely malicious.
Try watching the edge of the mirror after sneaking into a room.
If you're good enough, you can see your reflection, pressing against the glass.
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Whenever you enter an empty elevator you notice that the "call" button is twisted slightly. This continues to irk you until finally you give it a good twist to put it back in place.
The button falls to the floor. There is an eye behind it, red and staring straight at you. Almost through you.
Now you take the stairs.
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A déjà vu is actually a glitch in reality, and it indicates that something has just been changed. Someone or something has ceased to exist, all memories and records of their existence erased forever. A déjà vu happens when they get into your brain, when they need to change your memories. Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had.
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It was her eyes that first attracted me to her. I didn't believe in love, but the first time I gazed into her beautiful green eyes I knew she was the one.
I loved seeing myself reflected in those eyes, looking deep into her soul and knowing I was a part of it. It's kinda stupid, but I even wrote poetry about them. I don't remember much, but I told her “There's so much life within your eyes, and so much love”.
Oh God, I loved the way the light danced within them. I just couldn't imagine not being able to stare dreamily into them.
Now if I could just find a box that was half as beautiful as her eyes, I could stop carrying them round in my pocket.
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Yesterday, a friend of mine called me. It was a John, an old buddy from high school. I hadn't spoken with him for years, and we started to reminisce about all the crap we pulled in high school. A few days later I decided to call him back, and see if we could get together, maybe go fishing or something.
We talked on the phone for a while, and I said to him "Hey, maybe we should get together sometime." He first said that that was a bad idea, but then he agreed. I asked him for address, copied it down, and told him I'd see him in the morning.
The next morning I arrived at the place he said he lived at. There was nothing but rubble there. It looked like there had been a fire there years ago, but nothing got cleaned up, and the plants never regrew. In the middle of the rubble, I found a old rotary style telephone on the floor, not connected to anything. Hurridly, I pulled out my cellphone and called his number.
The telephone on the floor rang.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
I dropped my cellphone in shock, and knelt to grab the rotary telephone. A voice, drenched in distortion and hiss, said:
"I told you this was a bad idea."
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There is a child in a hospital in Decard, Tennessee. The child is a quiet toddler that remains in the nursery with all the other newborns. If you ask the staff, they will ignore you, but the tag on his arm is yellowed and marked 1948. He will not cry, only rock quietly. If you speak the name on his tag, his eyes will open, something you don't want to happen.
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It was past ten in the evening. I thought I was the only passenger on the bus, but I heard children’s voices from behind. The children were apparently talking about a ghost story.
Child A: “…. and if you turn around, the ghost will snatch you away and carry you to the afterworld!”
I recognized the voice. I often saw these children on the same bus after work. They went to a cram school.
Child B: “Then that’s easy. All you have to do is make sure you don’t turn around.”
Child A: “Yes, but I heard you can’t help but turn around. The ghost would try all sorts of tricks on you to get you turn around.”
It was nearly the bus stop where these two usually got off, but it looked like they didn’t notice it. I thought I should warn them because I didn’t want them to go home late. So I turned around and said, “you are getting off here aren’t you?”
Child A: “See, I told you so.”
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You're at work alone, when you suddenly hear the copy machine start up. You walk out to take a look at what's going on and see several copies filling the tray. Picking up one of the pieces of paper you discover that it is a copy of a picture depicting you sitting in your office chair, dead, with your eyes torn out and your throat cut. The others are the same picture, but taken from increasingly bizarre angles.
There is no original picture in the copy machine. In fact, the machine has been out of toner for a week.
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A cat trots out from behind a corner, and lays a heart at your feet. It goes back behind the corner, and comes back with a liver. It does the same with a lung, a stomach and a brain before imploding with a slurping noise. The autopsy shows that the organs were the cat's.
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You encounter a small garden. Facing away from you is a young woman with long hair, tending to one of the flowers. If you call her attention, she will turn to you. She has been stabbed in the eye and neck with long knives, still embedded in her, the wounds trickling blood. She carries on conversationally with you; if any point out her predicament, she is confused... then she feels the implements with her hands, goes white, and collapses, gurgling. She dies moments later, an expression fusing horror, surprise, and acceptance forever captured on her face.
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You feel an itch in your throat.
You try to cough it out, but it just won't come.
You struggle with forcing yourself to vomit, but whatever it is, it’s just stuck there.
You reach for the carton of milk in the fridge and sneeze as you raise it up. Something flies out of your throat and hits the floor with a rattle. You look at the floor and see a small button with a flowery design on it.
Then you look up. On the milk carton, you notice a missing kid. Her blouse shows the same buttons.
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A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, un-moving.
At this point he was confused and a little freaked out. He went to the front desk and asked the lady about the room. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and the lady said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which are red.
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In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed.
She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She went to the police, who raided the address on the envelope, where they found heaps of human flesh for sale.
And what was in the envelope? "This is the last one I am sending you today."
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The lights in your hallway begin to flicker. When the light is on, you see nothing. But each time it goes out, you can make out the silhouette of a figure. Each time the light goes off, it gets closer.
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It's early morning. The sun won't be up for another couple of hours. You're fast asleep in bed, lost in a dream, when the phone rings. Rather than waking up, you roll over and cover your head with a pillow.
Hours pass. The sun rises.
The phone is ringing.
When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning.
You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice.
Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one. The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.
Screaming.
You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.
The phone beeps again. You're shaking.
Message two.
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For a brief period in 1971, a New Jersey based company sold novelty "x-ray" glasses through the mail via advertisements in the Marvel line of comic books. People who viewed their televisions while wearing these glasses reported seeing images that were "hellish" or "like hell". It should be noted that this phenomena occured whether the televisions in question were turned on or not. The company quickly went out of business and investigations reveal that the company's address leads to a graveyard founded many decades before 1971.
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An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn't certain of which direction to go, and he'd forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He'd sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: "Now your *third* wish. What will it be?"
"Third wish?" The man was baffled. "How can it be a third wish if I haven't had a first and second wish?"
"You've had two wishes already," the hag said, "but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That's why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes." She cackled at the poor man. "So it is that you have one wish left."
"All right," he said, "I don't believe this, but there's no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am."
"Funny," said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. "That was your first wish."
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In winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee.
The medic made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never this short on supplies.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark hours of the morning - New Year's Day, 1945.
The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, with no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood.
The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial.
None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
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You go to visit some relatives in the countryside, and set up in a bedroom facing their driveway. That night as you drift off to sleep you hear a clattering outside. Getting up sleepily, you glance out the window and see an old horse-drawn hearse pulling up. People are sitting all over the thing, glancing around confused.
The driver then looks up at you, smiles pleasantly.
"Room for one more!" He says.
You immediately wake up from this nightmare, feeling unnerved and shaken. Deciding to calm your nerves, you go out to a nearby shopping mall.
After some time spent browsing, you quickly forget your freakish nightmare and decide to take the elevator to the next floor down. You press the button and the door opens to reveal that the elevator is stuffed full of other shoppers. One leans out and says cheerfully; "Room for one more!"
You recognize his face. The driver.
You immediately scream and run. The door shuts behind you and the elevator descends. Suddenly there is a metallic snap and a deafening screech. The elevator snaps free of it's cable and plummets to the ground. Nobody inside survives.
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You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose.
You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you.
You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now.
You then drop the phone in shock.
There are no footprints in the snow.
It's his reflection.
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You enter a room, you have no idea how you got there but you get an odd feeling that you've been there before. You ignore this feeling and walk forward, there are two doors, they say:
Door1: Under any circumstances open this door unless you are ready to move on with this game.
Door2: If you don't want to move on, feel free to use this door.
you dont know what is going on but you decide you dont want to move on with whatever the door means, you take door 2.
...
You enter a room, you have no idea how you got there but you get an odd feeling that you've been there before. You ignore this feeling and walk forward, there are two doors, they say:
Door1: Under any circumstances......
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The sink's clogged again. Great. At first, the water just drains slowly and you ignore it. When it gets worse, you dump some Drain-O down the sink, hoping that will do the job.
No good. In fact, it just gets worse.
You brush your teeth that night, curse and swear about the drain, and go to bed. You'll call the plumber tomorrow.
And then it gurgles. You sit up and stare at your bathroom. Another gurgle. You've had enough, this is getting annoying. Fetching a butter knife from the kitchen, you go to your sink and pry off the drain cover, peering down into hole.
And find a set of blackened, rotted teeth smiling back at you.
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There was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he was missing. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told. About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him across the border as if he were asleep.
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There is an abandoned mental hospital at the top of a hill in Worcester, Massachusetts. Once every 5 years an old rusty box spring appears within the courtyard of the hospital. If you can sneak inside and sleep through the night on the bed, in the morning a man with a shirt that reads "Observe and absolve" will take out his wallet and give you a picture. This picture will show you how you will die. If the picture is of the man standing before you, running won't help.
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If you call yourself on your own cellular phone, sometimes you will get an answer. You won't hear anything other than heavy breathing, so don't bother waiting for them to speak. If you then say the name of a person you know and a reason that they should die (reasons like "I just want them dead" do work), then they will die a gruesome death within the next 24 hours. Their horribly mangled corpse will be completely unrecognizable, and there is never any evidence pointing to a specific perpetrator so the person(s) that performs this service has never been caught.
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A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs. So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the clown statue outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown statue."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown staue was ever found.
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Any night, around 10 or 11 pm, take yourself to a flat, open area where you can walk in a straight line for two minutes or so without running into anything. Once there, face in the direction you plan to walk, with your arms at your sides and your hands relaxed. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath. At precisely 11:09 and 20 seconds, start walking. Be sure to take one step every second, no more, no less. Do not open your eyes, and do not hesitate. Count your steps in your head as you go. On the one hundred and eleventh step, say the word "One" out loud, and stop.
Your breath will catch in your throat, and your hair will stand on end. For the next ten seconds, you will be unable to move a single muscle in your body, no matter how hard you try. After these ten seconds, you will be able to move and breathe again, however, you will then start to feel the sensation of cold metal claws seizing each of your fingers by the base and plucking them clean off of your hand. It will not hurt. You will surely be horrified, but do not open your eyes, and do not move. If you move or open your eyes, all that anyone will ever find of you is your two fingerless hands, severed cleanly at the wrist.
Once the claws have stopped, and all of your fingers have been plucked off, stay still for another ten seconds. It may help to count. After these ten seconds have passed, you may open your eyes. You will find that your fingers are still quite firmly attached to your hands. Go home immediately, and go directly to bed. Speak to no one for the rest of the night, and enter no building that you do not consider your home.
The next day, you will have become One of Them. Once per day, as long as there is even a sliver of sunlight, you may point at someone and speak the word "One." That night, at 11:11 PM and 11 seconds, they will face the same trial that you faced. If you see that person the next day, you will know that he, too, has become One of Them. If not, then do not be alarmed if you do not feel hungry the rest of the day.
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I live in the UK. A colleague at work heard this from her boyfriend. He works with someone who said that his sister's friend got the last tube (subway train) home a couple of weeks ago. When she got on there were 5 rows of seats empty but the last row had three people sitting in them. As she was a little afraid, she went and sat opposite these people. She settled down and looked up to see the woman sitting opposite her really staring at her. So she got out her book and started to read but every time she looked up the woman was still staring. The train pulled into the next station and a man got on. He looked up and down the carriage, took a look at her and the people opposite her and came and sat next to her. As the train left the station the man leaned back and said quietly in her ear "If you know what's good for you, you'll get off at the next station with me". She was scared but thought the best idea would be to get off at the next station as he asked as there might be people around. The next stop comes up and she leaves the train with this man. The man says "Thank God, I didn't mean to scare you but I had to get you off that train. I'm a doctor and the woman sitting opposite you was dead and the two men either side were propping her up". According to the guy who told this story, the girl and the doctor called the police who stopped the train at the next station.
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Normally you sleep soundly, but the thunderstorm raging outside is stirring you from your slumber. You begin to doze, then another crash jolts you awake. The cycle lasts most of the night. So you lay there, eyes open and outward, looking at your room stretching out before you in oblong shadows. Your eyes move from nameless object, to object, until you reach your mirror, sitting adjacent to you across the room.
Suddenly a flash of lighting, and the mirror flickers in illumination. For a scant second the mirror revels to you dozens of faces, silhouettes within its frame, mouths open and eyes blackened. They stare out at you, their black pupils fixed upon your face.
Then it is done. Are you sure of what you have seen? Unsettled, you don't sleep for the rest of the evening.
The next morning you remove the mirror from your wall and toss it in the trash. It didn't matter if the vision you had seen was of truth or falsehood, you wanted to be rid of that mirror. In fact, you scrap every mirror in your house.
Weeks pass and the event of that night falls into passive memory. You are spending the day at a friend's house. It's time to use the bathroom. While you are in there the faucet starts to run without you prompting it. Taken aback by this, you do not yet act, trying to reason with your paranoia in your mind. The water starts to steam and a skin of moisture covers the mirror up above. You're watching intently as words form:
'Please return the mirrors. We miss watching you sleep at night.'
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Have you ever been taking a shower and felt like something was moving around behind the curtain? Especially if you were alone? Like as if something were watching you? Did you look up? Did you catch the very vaguest hint of eyebrows or a tuft of matted, greasy hair above the curtain rod?
That's not a good idea. It doesn't really like it if you see it. It likes it the most when you've got shampoo on your hair, and your eyes are shut tight so they won't sting. Or even better, when there's soap and bubbles all over your soft face. It likes that the best, because your eyes are clenched so tight, and even if you did want to open them, like, if you heard a soft rasping of hard, dense hairs against the plastic shower curtain, or the scratching of claws on bathroom tile, or the gentle splatter of drool or... god knows what... on the floor outside, well, you wouldn't open your eyes because it'd burn. Right?
Right.
Don't open your eyes. Because if you ever see its face, catch its eyes...
Well,
it'll notice.
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Your new apartment is perfect, except for the bathroom. Black mildew stains the corners, cracks, and crevices of the tile. You break out the cleaner and brush, and go to work. No matter how much you scrub, however, you just can't seem to make a difference. For a second after you rinse off the suds, you think that there even seems to be more mildew than when you started. Frustrated, you decide to give up for the time being, at least until you can get some more potent cleaner. You turn to the sink to wash your hands -- and that's when you first notice the black mildew stains around your fingernails...
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As you sit here reading this, don't look behind you.
It doesn't like to be seen.
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The eyes of a cat are windows to your soul. They can see other dimensions, they can see your aura, and what's wrong with you. A cat knows when you are happy, when you are in bad health, when you are troubled, or when you are hungry. He knows when you are feeling magnanimous, and he knows when you are about to die.
It's fortunate that cats can't talk, because you have a lot of secrets. The cat knows.
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The images we see in the mirror are the pure incarnates of evil. They are only allowed to exist in the area reflected in the glass. To them, life is like a neverending hell, rotting away in the same room day after day. The only release from this purgatory is death, and the only way for them to die, sad to say, is if YOU die.
Fortunately, they are bound by a code. You are their master, and they must mirror your every movement and expression. To do otherwise would break an unbreakable law, unravelling the space-time continuum. However, there is a loophole, and it can only be triggered by you, the master. To force them into error is to free them from their contract; after you let them out of your view, you're on your own. Know this: when you watch them, they're watching you back. They're watching. And they're thinking.
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The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse moldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. If you were to put the frames together, in chronological order of the release of the film it comes from, a short film is revealed. The film depicts the corpse's violent death in reverse. The final frame will be a picture of yourself, sitting before your tv, viewing the final frame of the film.
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In 1938, over 6,000 patients were checked into mental hospitals all across America within one week of each other. Reports of similar instances supposedly came from Europe and Asia as well. The circumstances of each patient were, eerily, identical.
Every patient completely shut down, shivering in the corner until their family, unable to calm or care for the individuals, committed them.
The only thing the patients would say was: "There is not, and never has been, such a thing in this world as a meaningless coincidence."
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"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness, it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
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A man and wife were driving late one night when they were flagged down by a woman that appeared to be hurt. She claimed she'd been in an accident and her baby was alive but trapped in the car. The man told her to wait with his wife and he'd see what he could do. He got to the car and found a couple obviously dead in the front seat but a baby crying in a car seat. He cut the baby loose and returned to his own car. When he got there his wife was alone, he asked her where the woman had went and she replied that she'd followed him to the wreck. He left the baby with his wife and went back to the car to find her. When he got there he realized the woman who'd been instantly killed in the front seat had been the one who'd flagged him down.
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In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
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During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time.
Although the scene was originally labelled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm's well (which had apparantly dried up earlier that year).
Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. The camera then continued to stationarily point at the oven for another 45 minutes until the batteries apparantly died.
To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well.
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An old woman is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.
She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "Humans can lick too."
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Every time you exhale, a little bit of your soul escapes. Luckily, you almost always inhale it back before anyone else gets to it. Almost.
Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?
Don't do that.
------------------------------
At 12:17 am, on any given night, arises the opportunity to awaken an alternate soul. The most common way of viewing them? Through a mirror.
It is through said medium that the process must take place. Begin at exactly midnight. By no light but that of a single candle, stand before the selected mirror. For ten minutes you must concentrate in silence, focused entirely on your reflection. Do not look away from the eyes; for it will be interpreted as weakness and you will be overcome.
After ten minutes have passed you must draw blood to smear in a line across the eyes of your reflection. Doing so will blind it, and you will watch as your own features begin to warp. Slowly, gradually, they will mutate into a frightening creature--one beyond the comprehension of those who have not experienced it. You must not look away through the entirety of the change.
Soon the writhing movements of the image will cease. By now an echoing, inhuman sound will resound all around you--the creature will begin to ease toward the mirror's glass. You must keep watching as it approaches.
If you do not extinguish the candle at exactly 12:17, the creature will escape.
Be warned, should you succeed; through any polished surface--be it mirror, wood, or window--your reflection will always be watching
------------------------------
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, 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.
------------------------------
My great-great grandmother, who had been ill for some time now, finally passed away. My great-great grandfather was devastated beyond belief. She was his one true love and they had been married for over 50 years.
They had been married so long it was if they knew each others thoughts. Even after the doctor announced her dead, my great-great grandfather still insisted that she was not. He had to literally be pried away from his wife's body so they could prepare her for a burial.
Back in those days they had simple backyard burial plots, without the body doing through any preservation. The body was simply committed to the coffin and buried. Throughout this process, my great-great grandfather protested so much that he had to be sedated and put to bed. His wife was buried, and that was that.
That night, he woke to a horrific vision of his wide hysterically trying to scratch her way out of the coffin. He phoned the doctor immediately and begged to have his wife's body taken out. The doctor refused. He continued to have this nightmare every night that week, and each day after begged the doctor to remove his wife from the grave.
Finally, the doctor gave in, and with the local authorities had the coffin removed from the ground and pried open. To everyone's horror and amazement, my great great grandmothers nails were bent back, and there were obvious scratches on the inside of the coffin.
------------------------------
There was a girl named Jenna who was having a slumber party. She invited three friends but only one came.
That night, after they did all the fun activities they went to bed. Jenna's friend Mary said "goodnight" and they went to bed. Ten minutes later Jenna heard Mary counting "12345" she didn't pay much attention though she thought that Mary was counting to get to sleep.
At about 3am Jenna woke up to go to the bathroom and heard "565, 565, 566, 567" she reached over and turned on the light and turned around to see a pale woman holding Mary's decapitated head pulling out her hair one piece at a time.
------------------------------
It's midnight and you've been in bed for about an hour, unable to get any sleep. You don't know why, but you suddenly feel uneasy, as if something were about to jump out at you at any given moment. You try to get over the feeling but it gets so intense that you open your eyes and nervously look around your moonlit room, then out into the hall. Everything looks normal so you ease yourself back into a comfortable position and try to get some sleep.
Suddenly, your bedroom door slams shut.
You jump up with a start and run over to open it, but it won't budge. You flick the light switch, but it won't turn on. You call for help, but you are only met with utter silence...... except breathing from behind you.
------------------------------
A degenerated VHS dub was discovered in the University Library containing five minutes of inexplicable amateur footage. In one continuous shot, the camera momentarily focuses on a doorway on the north wall of a living room before the operator climbs outside of the house through a window to show the exterior white clapboard. The camera then moves inside the house through a second window completely circling the doorway and so proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that insulation or siding is the only possible thing this doorway could lead to. A hand appears in the frame and pulls open the door, revealing a narrow black hallway at least ten feet long. The camera begins to move closer, threatening to actually enter it. A voice can be heard, "Don't you dare go in there again, Davy," to which another voice adds, "Yeah, not such a hot idea."
------------------------------
An unpopular young med. student had been particularly annoying one day and some of her classmates decided to play a trick on her. They snuck into her room after she'd gone to bed and placed an amputated arm from a med class dissection into bed with her. The next morning they anxiously awaited her reaction but got none. Eventually they went up to check on her and found her sitting on the bed, moaning and gurgling as she gnawed on the arm.
------------------------------
During a wedding reception of a young couple the guests decided on a drunken game of hide and seek. It was decided that the groom was "it" and he eventually found everyone but his new bride. Eventually the man became furious and decided it wasn't funny anymore and left her there. As weeks went by he accepted that she'd had second thoughts and went on with her life so he did the same. A few years later a cleaning lady dusted off an old trunk in the attic of the building where the reception had taken place, out of curiosity she opened it. Inside the trunk was the rotted body of the missing bride who'd apparently became locked in the trunk she'd hid in. Whether she'd suffocated or starved was unknown, but her face was frozen in a scream.
------------------------------
A teenage baby-sitter put the kids she was watching to sleep in their beds and went back downstairs. The late night news was on the TV -- the reporter said a psychopath from a local mental institution was on the loose and that police thought he might be in the area. He cautioned residents to lock their doors and windows because this guy was very, very dangerous. Well, the teenager checked the locks on the windows and the doors, but she forgot the door on the cellar bulkhead. Needless to say, the psychopath broke in about an hour later, coming up from the cellar, armed with an ax. The children heard some noises downstairs, but thought it was the baby-sitter moving some furniture around. Then it got real quiet. All they heard for the remainder of the night was this noise: "Thump! Thump! Dra-aag... Thump! Thump! Dra-aag..." Evidently, they were too afraid to get up to see what it was. In the morning, their parents came home and were horrified to find the babysitter at the top of the stairs, dead with both arms hacked off at the elbows. She'd been climbing the stairs on the bloody stumps of her arms, pulling her badly injured body along. Was she trying to check on the children? Was she trying to get help? Or in the madness of her tortured soul, was she planning to kill the children herself?
------------------------------
You were out of town for the weekend. When you came back to your apartment, your mailbox was stuffed full. At least 30 letters. Letters with no return address, several of them felt soggy and heavy, as though they were recently wet, or perhaps contained a liquid. All of the letters have your name and address written on them, and many of them had your name scratched all over them in red in. They don't smell nice, they smell like rotting meat and old garbage and you're reluctant to take them back to your room, but curiosity gets the better of you.
So you manage to cart them all back to your room, you dump them in your kitchenette sink because you don't want them smelling up the rest of the apartment. You grab one that doesn't seem damp and isn't covered with writing, and open it up. There's pictures inside. Pictures of people you don't know, with their eyes torn out, teeth missing, unhinged jaws hanging open, throats ripped out. You're horrified and yet you can't help but wonder what's in the rest of the letters. You open more, and more to discover increasingly gruesome photos of dead people. Piles of bodies with limps missing, splayed open corpses on operating tables with their vital organs removed, hanged bodies that have been gutted and bled dry. Some of the soggy letters had blood and other fluids in them. The more letters you open, the more you notice that not all of the people are strangers. Some of them were people you see at work, others people you went to high school with. By the time you get to the last few letters, the pictures are of the mutilated bodies of your close friends and family members.
Eventually you reach the last letter. You don't want to know what's in it, but it's not like you have a choice now. You peel the letter open, and it's a picture of yourself. Not dead, eyes intact, no limbs missing. It's a picture of you entering your apartment building earlier that day, shortly before you collected your disgusting letters. As you hear a door elsewhere in your apartment open, you black out.
------------------------------
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.
Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
"They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren't already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door...
Once for you skin, which she'll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she'll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she'll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
Four times for your heart, which she'll wear around her neck.
Five times for your teeth, which she'll polish and keep in a box.
Six times for your eyes, which she'll see the faces of your loved ones through.
Seven times for your soul, which she'll eat whole - you can never pass while you're in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she's faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she's knocking on your door, she won't be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that's right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again."
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints."
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl's voice spoke over the line: "WITNESS." I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She's doing it slowly... I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn't get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Nice knowing you guys, it's been fuy5
WITNESS
------------------------------
You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken breasts.
After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage." Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother.
Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says.
You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?"
"Hi hun, it's me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too."
"No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."
------------------------------
You wake after a wild night of partying to find that while you were wasted, for some reason
you had a crude smiley face tattooed on your foot. You write it off as a lesson to never drink that much again. The next time you wake, however, you discover the face is now on your ankle, and it’s not as crudely drawn. The day after that, it’s on your lower leg, and it’s starting to look more like a drawing of a real face. As it continues to move up and become more realistic looking, you wonder what happens when it reaches your own face.
------------------------------
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.
Example:
While brushing your teeth in the evening, you catch a glimpse of your wall mirror, covered in fingerprints. Annoyed, you grab a towel and rub at them. They remain. Upon closer inspection, you realize that they seem to be on the other side of the glass...
------------------------------
I am Thomas's reflection. Every morning, he rises from sleep and walks into the bathroom. ...and he makes faces. I am so tired of the faces. He makes them for at least half an hour. Mocking, ridiculous faces. I have no choice but to mimic his every action, although inside I am seething with anger. He does this every day... well, USED to. One morning he awoke as usual, and entered the bathroom. On this particular morning, against his will, he picked up a pair of scissors. On this particular morning, against his will, he gripped those scissors tightly in his fist. ...on this particular morning, entirely against his will, he plunged those scissors directly into his right eye. Thomas screamed, and screamed. I screamed and screamed too - with one difference. I can't mimic his pain.
Just
his
face.
------------------------------
You wake up one morning to find a note taped to your mirror: "Don't worry, I took care of everything." Your clothes have been freshly laundered, the bathroom is spotless, and your garage has been organized. Even your faithful old toolbox has been replaced.
Later that week, there's another note on your mirror: "GET OUT OF TOWN." Paper-clipped to this message are several grainy photos of police in a taped-off section of a field. One of them is carrying your old toolbox in his latex-gloved hand.
------------------------------
All mirrors are actually windows to another world.
This world cannot be reached, and shouldn't be reached, as all our mirror-selves are extremely malicious.
Try watching the edge of the mirror after sneaking into a room.
If you're good enough, you can see your reflection, pressing against the glass.
------------------------------
Whenever you enter an empty elevator you notice that the "call" button is twisted slightly. This continues to irk you until finally you give it a good twist to put it back in place.
The button falls to the floor. There is an eye behind it, red and staring straight at you. Almost through you.
Now you take the stairs.
------------------------------
A déjà vu is actually a glitch in reality, and it indicates that something has just been changed. Someone or something has ceased to exist, all memories and records of their existence erased forever. A déjà vu happens when they get into your brain, when they need to change your memories. Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had.
------------------------------
It was her eyes that first attracted me to her. I didn't believe in love, but the first time I gazed into her beautiful green eyes I knew she was the one.
I loved seeing myself reflected in those eyes, looking deep into her soul and knowing I was a part of it. It's kinda stupid, but I even wrote poetry about them. I don't remember much, but I told her “There's so much life within your eyes, and so much love”.
Oh God, I loved the way the light danced within them. I just couldn't imagine not being able to stare dreamily into them.
Now if I could just find a box that was half as beautiful as her eyes, I could stop carrying them round in my pocket.
------------------------------
Yesterday, a friend of mine called me. It was a John, an old buddy from high school. I hadn't spoken with him for years, and we started to reminisce about all the crap we pulled in high school. A few days later I decided to call him back, and see if we could get together, maybe go fishing or something.
We talked on the phone for a while, and I said to him "Hey, maybe we should get together sometime." He first said that that was a bad idea, but then he agreed. I asked him for address, copied it down, and told him I'd see him in the morning.
The next morning I arrived at the place he said he lived at. There was nothing but rubble there. It looked like there had been a fire there years ago, but nothing got cleaned up, and the plants never regrew. In the middle of the rubble, I found a old rotary style telephone on the floor, not connected to anything. Hurridly, I pulled out my cellphone and called his number.
The telephone on the floor rang.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
I dropped my cellphone in shock, and knelt to grab the rotary telephone. A voice, drenched in distortion and hiss, said:
"I told you this was a bad idea."
------------------------------
There is a child in a hospital in Decard, Tennessee. The child is a quiet toddler that remains in the nursery with all the other newborns. If you ask the staff, they will ignore you, but the tag on his arm is yellowed and marked 1948. He will not cry, only rock quietly. If you speak the name on his tag, his eyes will open, something you don't want to happen.
------------------------------
It was past ten in the evening. I thought I was the only passenger on the bus, but I heard children’s voices from behind. The children were apparently talking about a ghost story.
Child A: “…. and if you turn around, the ghost will snatch you away and carry you to the afterworld!”
I recognized the voice. I often saw these children on the same bus after work. They went to a cram school.
Child B: “Then that’s easy. All you have to do is make sure you don’t turn around.”
Child A: “Yes, but I heard you can’t help but turn around. The ghost would try all sorts of tricks on you to get you turn around.”
It was nearly the bus stop where these two usually got off, but it looked like they didn’t notice it. I thought I should warn them because I didn’t want them to go home late. So I turned around and said, “you are getting off here aren’t you?”
Child A: “See, I told you so.”
------------------------------
You're at work alone, when you suddenly hear the copy machine start up. You walk out to take a look at what's going on and see several copies filling the tray. Picking up one of the pieces of paper you discover that it is a copy of a picture depicting you sitting in your office chair, dead, with your eyes torn out and your throat cut. The others are the same picture, but taken from increasingly bizarre angles.
There is no original picture in the copy machine. In fact, the machine has been out of toner for a week.
------------------------------
A cat trots out from behind a corner, and lays a heart at your feet. It goes back behind the corner, and comes back with a liver. It does the same with a lung, a stomach and a brain before imploding with a slurping noise. The autopsy shows that the organs were the cat's.
------------------------------
You encounter a small garden. Facing away from you is a young woman with long hair, tending to one of the flowers. If you call her attention, she will turn to you. She has been stabbed in the eye and neck with long knives, still embedded in her, the wounds trickling blood. She carries on conversationally with you; if any point out her predicament, she is confused... then she feels the implements with her hands, goes white, and collapses, gurgling. She dies moments later, an expression fusing horror, surprise, and acceptance forever captured on her face.
------------------------------
You feel an itch in your throat.
You try to cough it out, but it just won't come.
You struggle with forcing yourself to vomit, but whatever it is, it’s just stuck there.
You reach for the carton of milk in the fridge and sneeze as you raise it up. Something flies out of your throat and hits the floor with a rattle. You look at the floor and see a small button with a flowery design on it.
Then you look up. On the milk carton, you notice a missing kid. Her blouse shows the same buttons.
------------------------------
A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, un-moving.
At this point he was confused and a little freaked out. He went to the front desk and asked the lady about the room. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and the lady said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which are red.
------------------------------
In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed.
She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She went to the police, who raided the address on the envelope, where they found heaps of human flesh for sale.
And what was in the envelope? "This is the last one I am sending you today."
------------------------------
The lights in your hallway begin to flicker. When the light is on, you see nothing. But each time it goes out, you can make out the silhouette of a figure. Each time the light goes off, it gets closer.
------------------------------
It's early morning. The sun won't be up for another couple of hours. You're fast asleep in bed, lost in a dream, when the phone rings. Rather than waking up, you roll over and cover your head with a pillow.
Hours pass. The sun rises.
The phone is ringing.
When you wake up, your alarm clock is blaring and the phone is ringing. By the time you will yourself to turn the alarm off, the phone has stopped ringing. You realize that it's been ringing all morning.
You slide out of bed and press the blinking red button on your phone as you stumble into the bathroom. The phone beeps, followed by the friendly, electronic voice.
Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one. The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.
Screaming.
You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.
The phone beeps again. You're shaking.
Message two.
------------------------------
For a brief period in 1971, a New Jersey based company sold novelty "x-ray" glasses through the mail via advertisements in the Marvel line of comic books. People who viewed their televisions while wearing these glasses reported seeing images that were "hellish" or "like hell". It should be noted that this phenomena occured whether the televisions in question were turned on or not. The company quickly went out of business and investigations reveal that the company's address leads to a graveyard founded many decades before 1971.
------------------------------
An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn't certain of which direction to go, and he'd forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He'd sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: "Now your *third* wish. What will it be?"
"Third wish?" The man was baffled. "How can it be a third wish if I haven't had a first and second wish?"
"You've had two wishes already," the hag said, "but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That's why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes." She cackled at the poor man. "So it is that you have one wish left."
"All right," he said, "I don't believe this, but there's no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am."
"Funny," said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. "That was your first wish."
------------------------------
In winter of 1944, with overtaxed supply lines in the Ardennes, a German medic had completely run out of plasma, bandages and antiseptic. During one particularly bad round of mortar fire, his encampment suddenly became a bloodbath. The survivors claimed to hear, above the screams and barked commands of their Lieutenant, someone cackling with almost girlish glee.
The medic made his rounds during the fire, in almost complete darkness as he had so many times before, but never this short on supplies.
The bombardment moved to other ends of the line, most men dropped off to sleep in the still dark hours of the morning - New Year's Day, 1945.
The men awoke at first light with screams. They discovered that their bandages were not typical bandages at all, but hunks and strips of human flesh. Several men had been given fresh blood transfusions, with no blood supplies available. Each treated man was almost completely covered, head-to-toe, with the maroon stain of blood.
The medic was found, sitting on an ammunition tin, staring off into space. When one man approached him, tapped him on the shoulder, his tunic fell off to reveal all skin, muscle, and sinew had been stripped from his torso and his body almost completely dried of blood. In one hand was a scalpel, and in the other, a blood transfusion vial.
None of the men treated for wounds that night, in that camp, saw the end of January, 1945.
------------------------------
You go to visit some relatives in the countryside, and set up in a bedroom facing their driveway. That night as you drift off to sleep you hear a clattering outside. Getting up sleepily, you glance out the window and see an old horse-drawn hearse pulling up. People are sitting all over the thing, glancing around confused.
The driver then looks up at you, smiles pleasantly.
"Room for one more!" He says.
You immediately wake up from this nightmare, feeling unnerved and shaken. Deciding to calm your nerves, you go out to a nearby shopping mall.
After some time spent browsing, you quickly forget your freakish nightmare and decide to take the elevator to the next floor down. You press the button and the door opens to reveal that the elevator is stuffed full of other shoppers. One leans out and says cheerfully; "Room for one more!"
You recognize his face. The driver.
You immediately scream and run. The door shuts behind you and the elevator descends. Suddenly there is a metallic snap and a deafening screech. The elevator snaps free of it's cable and plummets to the ground. Nobody inside survives.
------------------------------
You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose.
You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you.
You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now.
You then drop the phone in shock.
There are no footprints in the snow.
It's his reflection.
------------------------------
You enter a room, you have no idea how you got there but you get an odd feeling that you've been there before. You ignore this feeling and walk forward, there are two doors, they say:
Door1: Under any circumstances open this door unless you are ready to move on with this game.
Door2: If you don't want to move on, feel free to use this door.
you dont know what is going on but you decide you dont want to move on with whatever the door means, you take door 2.
...
You enter a room, you have no idea how you got there but you get an odd feeling that you've been there before. You ignore this feeling and walk forward, there are two doors, they say:
Door1: Under any circumstances......
------------------------------
The sink's clogged again. Great. At first, the water just drains slowly and you ignore it. When it gets worse, you dump some Drain-O down the sink, hoping that will do the job.
No good. In fact, it just gets worse.
You brush your teeth that night, curse and swear about the drain, and go to bed. You'll call the plumber tomorrow.
And then it gurgles. You sit up and stare at your bathroom. Another gurgle. You've had enough, this is getting annoying. Fetching a butter knife from the kitchen, you go to your sink and pry off the drain cover, peering down into hole.
And find a set of blackened, rotted teeth smiling back at you.
------------------------------
There was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he was missing. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told. About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him across the border as if he were asleep.
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There is an abandoned mental hospital at the top of a hill in Worcester, Massachusetts. Once every 5 years an old rusty box spring appears within the courtyard of the hospital. If you can sneak inside and sleep through the night on the bed, in the morning a man with a shirt that reads "Observe and absolve" will take out his wallet and give you a picture. This picture will show you how you will die. If the picture is of the man standing before you, running won't help.
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If you call yourself on your own cellular phone, sometimes you will get an answer. You won't hear anything other than heavy breathing, so don't bother waiting for them to speak. If you then say the name of a person you know and a reason that they should die (reasons like "I just want them dead" do work), then they will die a gruesome death within the next 24 hours. Their horribly mangled corpse will be completely unrecognizable, and there is never any evidence pointing to a specific perpetrator so the person(s) that performs this service has never been caught.
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A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn't watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs. So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent's room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request... she asked if she could cover up the clown statue outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, "Take the children and get out of the house... we will call the police. We do not have an clown statue."
The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No clown staue was ever found.
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Any night, around 10 or 11 pm, take yourself to a flat, open area where you can walk in a straight line for two minutes or so without running into anything. Once there, face in the direction you plan to walk, with your arms at your sides and your hands relaxed. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath. At precisely 11:09 and 20 seconds, start walking. Be sure to take one step every second, no more, no less. Do not open your eyes, and do not hesitate. Count your steps in your head as you go. On the one hundred and eleventh step, say the word "One" out loud, and stop.
Your breath will catch in your throat, and your hair will stand on end. For the next ten seconds, you will be unable to move a single muscle in your body, no matter how hard you try. After these ten seconds, you will be able to move and breathe again, however, you will then start to feel the sensation of cold metal claws seizing each of your fingers by the base and plucking them clean off of your hand. It will not hurt. You will surely be horrified, but do not open your eyes, and do not move. If you move or open your eyes, all that anyone will ever find of you is your two fingerless hands, severed cleanly at the wrist.
Once the claws have stopped, and all of your fingers have been plucked off, stay still for another ten seconds. It may help to count. After these ten seconds have passed, you may open your eyes. You will find that your fingers are still quite firmly attached to your hands. Go home immediately, and go directly to bed. Speak to no one for the rest of the night, and enter no building that you do not consider your home.
The next day, you will have become One of Them. Once per day, as long as there is even a sliver of sunlight, you may point at someone and speak the word "One." That night, at 11:11 PM and 11 seconds, they will face the same trial that you faced. If you see that person the next day, you will know that he, too, has become One of Them. If not, then do not be alarmed if you do not feel hungry the rest of the day.
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I live in the UK. A colleague at work heard this from her boyfriend. He works with someone who said that his sister's friend got the last tube (subway train) home a couple of weeks ago. When she got on there were 5 rows of seats empty but the last row had three people sitting in them. As she was a little afraid, she went and sat opposite these people. She settled down and looked up to see the woman sitting opposite her really staring at her. So she got out her book and started to read but every time she looked up the woman was still staring. The train pulled into the next station and a man got on. He looked up and down the carriage, took a look at her and the people opposite her and came and sat next to her. As the train left the station the man leaned back and said quietly in her ear "If you know what's good for you, you'll get off at the next station with me". She was scared but thought the best idea would be to get off at the next station as he asked as there might be people around. The next stop comes up and she leaves the train with this man. The man says "Thank God, I didn't mean to scare you but I had to get you off that train. I'm a doctor and the woman sitting opposite you was dead and the two men either side were propping her up". According to the guy who told this story, the girl and the doctor called the police who stopped the train at the next station.
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Normally you sleep soundly, but the thunderstorm raging outside is stirring you from your slumber. You begin to doze, then another crash jolts you awake. The cycle lasts most of the night. So you lay there, eyes open and outward, looking at your room stretching out before you in oblong shadows. Your eyes move from nameless object, to object, until you reach your mirror, sitting adjacent to you across the room.
Suddenly a flash of lighting, and the mirror flickers in illumination. For a scant second the mirror revels to you dozens of faces, silhouettes within its frame, mouths open and eyes blackened. They stare out at you, their black pupils fixed upon your face.
Then it is done. Are you sure of what you have seen? Unsettled, you don't sleep for the rest of the evening.
The next morning you remove the mirror from your wall and toss it in the trash. It didn't matter if the vision you had seen was of truth or falsehood, you wanted to be rid of that mirror. In fact, you scrap every mirror in your house.
Weeks pass and the event of that night falls into passive memory. You are spending the day at a friend's house. It's time to use the bathroom. While you are in there the faucet starts to run without you prompting it. Taken aback by this, you do not yet act, trying to reason with your paranoia in your mind. The water starts to steam and a skin of moisture covers the mirror up above. You're watching intently as words form:
'Please return the mirrors. We miss watching you sleep at night.'
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Have you ever been taking a shower and felt like something was moving around behind the curtain? Especially if you were alone? Like as if something were watching you? Did you look up? Did you catch the very vaguest hint of eyebrows or a tuft of matted, greasy hair above the curtain rod?
That's not a good idea. It doesn't really like it if you see it. It likes it the most when you've got shampoo on your hair, and your eyes are shut tight so they won't sting. Or even better, when there's soap and bubbles all over your soft face. It likes that the best, because your eyes are clenched so tight, and even if you did want to open them, like, if you heard a soft rasping of hard, dense hairs against the plastic shower curtain, or the scratching of claws on bathroom tile, or the gentle splatter of drool or... god knows what... on the floor outside, well, you wouldn't open your eyes because it'd burn. Right?
Right.
Don't open your eyes. Because if you ever see its face, catch its eyes...
Well,
it'll notice.
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Your new apartment is perfect, except for the bathroom. Black mildew stains the corners, cracks, and crevices of the tile. You break out the cleaner and brush, and go to work. No matter how much you scrub, however, you just can't seem to make a difference. For a second after you rinse off the suds, you think that there even seems to be more mildew than when you started. Frustrated, you decide to give up for the time being, at least until you can get some more potent cleaner. You turn to the sink to wash your hands -- and that's when you first notice the black mildew stains around your fingernails...
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As you sit here reading this, don't look behind you.
It doesn't like to be seen.
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The eyes of a cat are windows to your soul. They can see other dimensions, they can see your aura, and what's wrong with you. A cat knows when you are happy, when you are in bad health, when you are troubled, or when you are hungry. He knows when you are feeling magnanimous, and he knows when you are about to die.
It's fortunate that cats can't talk, because you have a lot of secrets. The cat knows.
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The images we see in the mirror are the pure incarnates of evil. They are only allowed to exist in the area reflected in the glass. To them, life is like a neverending hell, rotting away in the same room day after day. The only release from this purgatory is death, and the only way for them to die, sad to say, is if YOU die.
Fortunately, they are bound by a code. You are their master, and they must mirror your every movement and expression. To do otherwise would break an unbreakable law, unravelling the space-time continuum. However, there is a loophole, and it can only be triggered by you, the master. To force them into error is to free them from their contract; after you let them out of your view, you're on your own. Know this: when you watch them, they're watching you back. They're watching. And they're thinking.
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The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse moldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. If you were to put the frames together, in chronological order of the release of the film it comes from, a short film is revealed. The film depicts the corpse's violent death in reverse. The final frame will be a picture of yourself, sitting before your tv, viewing the final frame of the film.
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In 1938, over 6,000 patients were checked into mental hospitals all across America within one week of each other. Reports of similar instances supposedly came from Europe and Asia as well. The circumstances of each patient were, eerily, identical.
Every patient completely shut down, shivering in the corner until their family, unable to calm or care for the individuals, committed them.
The only thing the patients would say was: "There is not, and never has been, such a thing in this world as a meaningless coincidence."
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"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness, it's 3:23.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
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A man and wife were driving late one night when they were flagged down by a woman that appeared to be hurt. She claimed she'd been in an accident and her baby was alive but trapped in the car. The man told her to wait with his wife and he'd see what he could do. He got to the car and found a couple obviously dead in the front seat but a baby crying in a car seat. He cut the baby loose and returned to his own car. When he got there his wife was alone, he asked her where the woman had went and she replied that she'd followed him to the wreck. He left the baby with his wife and went back to the car to find her. When he got there he realized the woman who'd been instantly killed in the front seat had been the one who'd flagged him down.
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In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.
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During the summer of 1983, in a quiet town near Minneapolis, Minnesota, the charred body of a woman was found inside the kitchen stove of a small farmhouse. A video camera was also found in the kitchen, standing on a tripod and pointing at the oven. No tape was found inside the camera at the time.
Although the scene was originally labelled as a homicide by police, an unmarked VHS tape was later discovered at the bottom of the farm's well (which had apparantly dried up earlier that year).
Despite its worn condition, and the fact that it contained no audio, police were still able to view the contents of the tape. It depicted a woman recording herself in front of a video camera (seemingly using the same camera the police found in the kitchen). After positioning the camera to include both her and her kitchen stove in the image, the tape then showed her turning on the oven, opening the door, crawling inside, and then closing the door behind her. Eight minutes into the video, the oven could be seen shaking violently, after which point thick black smoke could be seen emanating from it. The camera then continued to stationarily point at the oven for another 45 minutes until the batteries apparantly died.
To avoid disturbing the local community, police never released any information about the tape, or even the fact that it was found. Police were also not able to determine who put the tape in the well.
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An old woman is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.
She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.
In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.
Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.
Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "Humans can lick too."
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Every time you exhale, a little bit of your soul escapes. Luckily, you almost always inhale it back before anyone else gets to it. Almost.
Ever fogged up a mirror with your breath?
Don't do that.
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At 12:17 am, on any given night, arises the opportunity to awaken an alternate soul. The most common way of viewing them? Through a mirror.
It is through said medium that the process must take place. Begin at exactly midnight. By no light but that of a single candle, stand before the selected mirror. For ten minutes you must concentrate in silence, focused entirely on your reflection. Do not look away from the eyes; for it will be interpreted as weakness and you will be overcome.
After ten minutes have passed you must draw blood to smear in a line across the eyes of your reflection. Doing so will blind it, and you will watch as your own features begin to warp. Slowly, gradually, they will mutate into a frightening creature--one beyond the comprehension of those who have not experienced it. You must not look away through the entirety of the change.
Soon the writhing movements of the image will cease. By now an echoing, inhuman sound will resound all around you--the creature will begin to ease toward the mirror's glass. You must keep watching as it approaches.
If you do not extinguish the candle at exactly 12:17, the creature will escape.
Be warned, should you succeed; through any polished surface--be it mirror, wood, or window--your reflection will always be watching
------------------------------
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, 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.
------------------------------
My great-great grandmother, who had been ill for some time now, finally passed away. My great-great grandfather was devastated beyond belief. She was his one true love and they had been married for over 50 years.
They had been married so long it was if they knew each others thoughts. Even after the doctor announced her dead, my great-great grandfather still insisted that she was not. He had to literally be pried away from his wife's body so they could prepare her for a burial.
Back in those days they had simple backyard burial plots, without the body doing through any preservation. The body was simply committed to the coffin and buried. Throughout this process, my great-great grandfather protested so much that he had to be sedated and put to bed. His wife was buried, and that was that.
That night, he woke to a horrific vision of his wide hysterically trying to scratch her way out of the coffin. He phoned the doctor immediately and begged to have his wife's body taken out. The doctor refused. He continued to have this nightmare every night that week, and each day after begged the doctor to remove his wife from the grave.
Finally, the doctor gave in, and with the local authorities had the coffin removed from the ground and pried open. To everyone's horror and amazement, my great great grandmothers nails were bent back, and there were obvious scratches on the inside of the coffin.
------------------------------
There was a girl named Jenna who was having a slumber party. She invited three friends but only one came.
That night, after they did all the fun activities they went to bed. Jenna's friend Mary said "goodnight" and they went to bed. Ten minutes later Jenna heard Mary counting "12345" she didn't pay much attention though she thought that Mary was counting to get to sleep.
At about 3am Jenna woke up to go to the bathroom and heard "565, 565, 566, 567" she reached over and turned on the light and turned around to see a pale woman holding Mary's decapitated head pulling out her hair one piece at a time.
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It's midnight and you've been in bed for about an hour, unable to get any sleep. You don't know why, but you suddenly feel uneasy, as if something were about to jump out at you at any given moment. You try to get over the feeling but it gets so intense that you open your eyes and nervously look around your moonlit room, then out into the hall. Everything looks normal so you ease yourself back into a comfortable position and try to get some sleep.
Suddenly, your bedroom door slams shut.
You jump up with a start and run over to open it, but it won't budge. You flick the light switch, but it won't turn on. You call for help, but you are only met with utter silence...... except breathing from behind you.
------------------------------
A degenerated VHS dub was discovered in the University Library containing five minutes of inexplicable amateur footage. In one continuous shot, the camera momentarily focuses on a doorway on the north wall of a living room before the operator climbs outside of the house through a window to show the exterior white clapboard. The camera then moves inside the house through a second window completely circling the doorway and so proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that insulation or siding is the only possible thing this doorway could lead to. A hand appears in the frame and pulls open the door, revealing a narrow black hallway at least ten feet long. The camera begins to move closer, threatening to actually enter it. A voice can be heard, "Don't you dare go in there again, Davy," to which another voice adds, "Yeah, not such a hot idea."
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An unpopular young med. student had been particularly annoying one day and some of her classmates decided to play a trick on her. They snuck into her room after she'd gone to bed and placed an amputated arm from a med class dissection into bed with her. The next morning they anxiously awaited her reaction but got none. Eventually they went up to check on her and found her sitting on the bed, moaning and gurgling as she gnawed on the arm.
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During a wedding reception of a young couple the guests decided on a drunken game of hide and seek. It was decided that the groom was "it" and he eventually found everyone but his new bride. Eventually the man became furious and decided it wasn't funny anymore and left her there. As weeks went by he accepted that she'd had second thoughts and went on with her life so he did the same. A few years later a cleaning lady dusted off an old trunk in the attic of the building where the reception had taken place, out of curiosity she opened it. Inside the trunk was the rotted body of the missing bride who'd apparently became locked in the trunk she'd hid in. Whether she'd suffocated or starved was unknown, but her face was frozen in a scream.
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A teenage baby-sitter put the kids she was watching to sleep in their beds and went back downstairs. The late night news was on the TV -- the reporter said a psychopath from a local mental institution was on the loose and that police thought he might be in the area. He cautioned residents to lock their doors and windows because this guy was very, very dangerous. Well, the teenager checked the locks on the windows and the doors, but she forgot the door on the cellar bulkhead. Needless to say, the psychopath broke in about an hour later, coming up from the cellar, armed with an ax. The children heard some noises downstairs, but thought it was the baby-sitter moving some furniture around. Then it got real quiet. All they heard for the remainder of the night was this noise: "Thump! Thump! Dra-aag... Thump! Thump! Dra-aag..." Evidently, they were too afraid to get up to see what it was. In the morning, their parents came home and were horrified to find the babysitter at the top of the stairs, dead with both arms hacked off at the elbows. She'd been climbing the stairs on the bloody stumps of her arms, pulling her badly injured body along. Was she trying to check on the children? Was she trying to get help? Or in the madness of her tortured soul, was she planning to kill the children herself?
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You were out of town for the weekend. When you came back to your apartment, your mailbox was stuffed full. At least 30 letters. Letters with no return address, several of them felt soggy and heavy, as though they were recently wet, or perhaps contained a liquid. All of the letters have your name and address written on them, and many of them had your name scratched all over them in red in. They don't smell nice, they smell like rotting meat and old garbage and you're reluctant to take them back to your room, but curiosity gets the better of you.
So you manage to cart them all back to your room, you dump them in your kitchenette sink because you don't want them smelling up the rest of the apartment. You grab one that doesn't seem damp and isn't covered with writing, and open it up. There's pictures inside. Pictures of people you don't know, with their eyes torn out, teeth missing, unhinged jaws hanging open, throats ripped out. You're horrified and yet you can't help but wonder what's in the rest of the letters. You open more, and more to discover increasingly gruesome photos of dead people. Piles of bodies with limps missing, splayed open corpses on operating tables with their vital organs removed, hanged bodies that have been gutted and bled dry. Some of the soggy letters had blood and other fluids in them. The more letters you open, the more you notice that not all of the people are strangers. Some of them were people you see at work, others people you went to high school with. By the time you get to the last few letters, the pictures are of the mutilated bodies of your close friends and family members.
Eventually you reach the last letter. You don't want to know what's in it, but it's not like you have a choice now. You peel the letter open, and it's a picture of yourself. Not dead, eyes intact, no limbs missing. It's a picture of you entering your apartment building earlier that day, shortly before you collected your disgusting letters. As you hear a door elsewhere in your apartment open, you black out.
------------------------------
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.
Today a friend of mine told me a story.
His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):
"They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.
The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren't already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door...
Once for you skin, which she'll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
Twice for your muscle, which she'll gnash her teeth on between victims.
Thrice for your bones, which she'll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
Four times for your heart, which she'll wear around her neck.
Five times for your teeth, which she'll polish and keep in a box.
Six times for your eyes, which she'll see the faces of your loved ones through.
Seven times for your soul, which she'll eat whole - you can never pass while you're in her stomach.
She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.
You can try to outrun her, but she's faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she's knocking on your door, she won't be so courteous when she catches up to you.
Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that's right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again."
Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints."
His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.
He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.
Then a little girl's voice spoke over the line: "WITNESS." I hung up.
Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She's doing it slowly... I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn't get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.
Nice knowing you guys, it's been fuy5
WITNESS
------------------------------
You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken breasts.
After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage." Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother.
Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says.
You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?"
"Hi hun, it's me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too."
"No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."
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You wake after a wild night of partying to find that while you were wasted, for some reason
you had a crude smiley face tattooed on your foot. You write it off as a lesson to never drink that much again. The next time you wake, however, you discover the face is now on your ankle, and it’s not as crudely drawn. The day after that, it’s on your lower leg, and it’s starting to look more like a drawing of a real face. As it continues to move up and become more realistic looking, you wonder what happens when it reaches your own face.
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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.