Creepy Pasta!

I just went to get O.J and guess what?
A skeleton popped out of the fridge. Holy shit

/x/ wrote:I just went to get O.J and guess what?
A skeleton popped out of the fridge. Holy shit

Rofl.

The discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in the early part of the 20th century is one of the most important episodes in the field of Bible scholarship. They have been studied and transcribed for decades, so it was quite a shock when an unnoticed Hebrew text was found in the collection. The theology of this text, apart from references to Sheol (the abode of the dead) and the primordial chaos monster Leviathan, is quite unlike anything found in the Qu’mran community, the Bible or the Ancient Near East as a whole. Here is the entirety of the text, as translated so far:

This is the vision of prophetess Zarah
revealed to her in the dark of a dead land
and written in the dust of a blind moon.

There are Things that were tamed in the beginning of the cosmos
and chained by the stars
which were placed in a sigil of five dimensions
in the tongue of a formless race which was ancient
before the elements.

Their servants were condemned to the mirrors,
to serve as reflections until the sigil of stars
comes undone.
At that time their Masters will return
and the one called Leviathan will drown the stars
in his ichorous waters.

The Gods of man will be as mortals
and those who knew life after death will suffer
as the living.
Blessed are the godless.
Blessed are those for whom death is extinction.
All the host of Heaven and Hell will alike
be tormented by the returned Ones,
whose hatred has festered for millions of years
as the burning stars chained them
beyond the attainable World.

The Reflections will creep from the mirrors and waters
to cackle and sizzle in a tongue without reason:
and they will catch mortals and drive them to madness
and those will be lucky:
for their Masters will come and they will not allow
the salvation of Madness.

Time will die before them and their reign will be timeless.
Reason will be slaughtered and space will be senseless.
Black stars will hang in the sky choked in ichorous waters.
The Gods of the mortals will be feeble before them
and no law will be left but the whim of the hateful,
the Things that were chained when the cosmos were formed.
Blessed are the dead who know nothing.
Blessed are those who did not trust Salvation
but had faith in extinction at the dust of the body.
These are the only ones who are spared.

All of this I, Zarah, have seen in the dead land,
and inscribed in the dust of a blind moon.
It has been revealed to me in Sheol,
and been made known to me in the Pit.
And it has been shown to me that writings from Sheol
will be seen in the land of the living
as the chain of the stars become weaker.
As the sigil comes closer to breaking, the

It should be noted that the translators make the ridiculous assertion that more writing appeared from the start to the completion of their reconstruction of this text, and indeed that vague impressions of letters have already formed below the last sentence, which now ends at “the”. This should be taken as a highly unprofessional attempt at explaining away the slow process of translation. The grisly suicides of, as of this writing, two of the original translation team, should likewise be ignored.

–

I’d heard stories of it. Retreat Road down in Cochrane, Alberta. They have a monastery there. Robes and everything. But their real claim to fame is the massive statue of Christ being crucified in the woods. I’ve been there a few times. Walked up the path with all the smaller statues beside the path. There was a baby, a group of people reaching towards Jesus, all those things, finally culminating in this 20-foot tall cross with Jesus hanging from it. What gets a lot of people though, is that Jesus is weeping on the cross. Nobody can seem to figure out why. Weeping is not the action of a Lord and Saviour.

Never.

Unthinkable.

I’ve been a few times during the day. It’s an interesting walk. Even for the Atheist like myself, it is still awe-inspiring. I happened to notice lights though, beneath all the statues. I asked around, and they do light the path up at night. I asked if I could come back then, but they told me the path would be closed. No one would tell me why.

Not one to follow rules, I returned that night, and made my way over the fence and onto the path. As I walked along the winding route to the large statue, I passed the smaller statues. They seemed different. It was the angle the light hit them. The statue of the baby … it’s eyes were all sunken in, and the shadows seemed to make its fingers end in claws. The statue of the people reaching towards Jesus, they looked dead, reaching towards Jesus with the shadows casting a look of horror on his face. Something about them really unsettled me, but it was on a deeper level than just what they depicted now. I reached the statue of Jesus and gazed up at his face. I stood there for what felt like hours, just wondering why he was weeping. What for? What cause?

I heard the whispers and rustling of the trees on all sides of me long before I saw anything. I gazed up at Jesus, looked deep into those stone eyes, and understood.

That night, he was weeping for me.

/x/ wrote:I’d heard stories of it. Retreat Road down in Cochrane, Alberta. They have a monastery there. Robes and everything. But their real claim to fame is the massive statue of Christ being crucified in the woods. I’ve been there a few times. Walked up the path with all the smaller statues beside the path. There was a baby, a group of people reaching towards Jesus, all those things, finally culminating in this 20-foot tall cross with Jesus hanging from it. What gets a lot of people though, is that Jesus is weeping on the cross. Nobody can seem to figure out why. Weeping is not the action of a Lord and Saviour.

Never.

Unthinkable.

I’ve been a few times during the day. It’s an interesting walk. Even for the Atheist like myself, it is still awe-inspiring. I happened to notice lights though, beneath all the statues. I asked around, and they do light the path up at night. I asked if I could come back then, but they told me the path would be closed. No one would tell me why.

Not one to follow rules, I returned that night, and made my way over the fence and onto the path. As I walked along the winding route to the large statue, I passed the smaller statues. They seemed different. It was the angle the light hit them. The statue of the baby … it’s eyes were all sunken in, and the shadows seemed to make its fingers end in claws. The statue of the people reaching towards Jesus, they looked dead, reaching towards Jesus with the shadows casting a look of horror on his face. Something about them really unsettled me, but it was on a deeper level than just what they depicted now. I reached the statue of Jesus and gazed up at his face. I stood there for what felt like hours, just wondering why he was weeping. What for? What cause?

I heard the whispers and rustling of the trees on all sides of me long before I saw anything. I gazed up at Jesus, looked deep into those stone eyes, and understood.

That night, he was weeping for me.

Lul. sucks for him.

Had to post this. I love dolls. lol


I gave her the doll on her birthday.
She loved it at first, told me it was so beautiful. That it’s hair was so soft and the dress was so pretty. She wouldn’t let it out of her sight for days. During the day she set it on the table, so she could see it while cleaning the house. During the night it sat next to the bed, looking at us sleep with big blue unmoving eyes.
But my wife’s love for the doll soon changed. Soon I noticed something was bothering here. I asked of course, but she wouldn’t tell me at first, said she was just being silly. But day after day she closed herself more and more for me. Until I couldn’t take it anymore. I pressed her, told her she would tell me what was going on right now or I would drag her to a doctor.

She finally broke and crying words came spilling out.
She then told me it was the doll. It scared her. She told me she had the feeling it was constantly watching her. Sometimes it even seemed like it moved.
This worried me and I went to take a look at the doll.
It sat motionless on the little table in the bedroom. The big blue eyes unchanged. I couldn’t help but sigh from relief a bit. Of course she’s not moving, she couldn’t have been.
I went to turn away, but then saw a tiny movement from the corner of my eye.
I turned back to the doll, picking it up from the table. I held my face close to the doll’s, staring into the eyes.
Something was moving.
I tried to concentrate, tried to look closer.
Yes, there it definately was, movement. But not from the eye itself, it was behind the eye.
Before I could register this the eye burst and out of it spilled at least ten wriggling maggots.
I dropped the doll in shock, backing away instinctively.

My wife yelled from the other room, asking me what was going on. I yelled back at her not to worry. I picked up the doll again, using a tissue to wipe away the maggots. Inside I saw more, pressing against the skin and the plastic outer layer.

So soon already. I had hoped she would have lasted longer.
I will have to get a new one for her, maybe keep it alive at first. That way it’ll last longer for sure.
While I throw away the old doll, I think about how my wife always says she loves the thick blonde curls of little Katie down the block.
Doesn’t she also have blue eyes?

Voodoo!

/x/ wrote:Voodoo!

I presume.
---
A secret society meets once every three years at a small diner in West Virginia. To join, you must come to the American Grill diner located in Cricket at 9:30 PM on September the twenty-first. The only uniform is a heavy overcoat and a green tie. Order an “Eggs and bacon platter with coffee.” The waiter will tell you that the breakfast menu is unavailable, reply, “Well, just the coffee then.” You’ll be allowed to stay after closing time for the meet. The meeting itself is a meeting of minds and philosophy regarding immortality. The society is called “The Socratic Method.” They hoist their mugs at the beginning and end of the meeting and say “Death to Socrates.” It’s rumored a little hemlock is added to the first cup, and an antidote to the last.

FcknFierce wrote:

/x/ wrote:Voodoo!

I presume.
---
A secret society meets once every three years at a small diner in West Virginia. To join, you must come to the American Grill diner located in Cricket at 9:30 PM on September the twenty-first. The only uniform is a heavy overcoat and a green tie. Order an “Eggs and bacon platter with coffee.” The waiter will tell you that the breakfast menu is unavailable, reply, “Well, just the coffee then.” You’ll be allowed to stay after closing time for the meet. The meeting itself is a meeting of minds and philosophy regarding immortality. The society is called “The Socratic Method.” They hoist their mugs at the beginning and end of the meeting and say “Death to Socrates.” It’s rumored a little hemlock is added to the first cup, and an antidote to the last.

They forgot some tomato sauce. shit.

/x/ wrote:

FcknFierce wrote:

/x/ wrote:Voodoo!

I presume.
---
A secret society meets once every three years at a small diner in West Virginia. To join, you must come to the American Grill diner located in Cricket at 9:30 PM on September the twenty-first. The only uniform is a heavy overcoat and a green tie. Order an “Eggs and bacon platter with coffee.” The waiter will tell you that the breakfast menu is unavailable, reply, “Well, just the coffee then.” You’ll be allowed to stay after closing time for the meet. The meeting itself is a meeting of minds and philosophy regarding immortality. The society is called “The Socratic Method.” They hoist their mugs at the beginning and end of the meeting and say “Death to Socrates.” It’s rumored a little hemlock is added to the first cup, and an antidote to the last.

They forgot some tomato sauce. shit.

Yeah. Seriously.
---
There is another universe, a lot like ours. Entrances to it are scattered throughout the world, in the places where the most psychological energy gathers. Schools, hospitals, that kind of place. During any leap year, on February 28, this is the period of abnormal astral activity that opens the doors. At exactly midnight, the minute between the 28th and 29th, if you’re lucky or unlucky enough to be by one of these doors, it will open and beckon you. In this other universe, things are mostly the same, except all love and hate relationships are reversed. Your worst enemy is your lover, your best friend is out to kill you, that sort of thing. It’s a nice head trip, a good escape from this reality. Have fun, but remember… If you enter, you are stuck there until next leap year.
(Now that seems like fun.)

You awake at a crossroads. You have no idea how you got there or how long you have slept. There are five signposted directions to take: Life, Death, Fortune, Fate and Destiny. As counter-intuitive as it may seem, you must, MUST, take the road to Death first. When you arrive at your destination after hours of walking (which was strangely untaxing on your legs) you find a house with boarded-up windows and a large, black portal with an ornate ivory door-knocker. Using the knocker will cause a wooden hand to form out of the wordwork of the door, and into this hand you must place the Ivory Key you found earlier.

Wait, I did mention the key, right? It’s sort of vital to continue.

Oh hell, wait a minute, I skipped ahead in the walkthrough. I must’ve tapped PgDwn or something. Hang on..

Okay, did you get past the minotaur yet? By tricking it into walking into the fire pits using the red scarf? Did I tell you to take the Death path first? Okay, wait, no.. no, this is.. ah, right, no, go down the “Fate” path first. There’s a gemstone down there that opens a portcullis in the Destiny path. Man, I’ve been going about this all backwards. Let’s start over:

You awake at a crossroads. Since you’ve read the Magician’s Journal, you already know that the Teleportation Ritual has deposited you here as a test to claim your rightful place as King of Etheria. Wait, this is for the second playthrough, oh goddammit. Here, just bring up the console and type “isuckatcreepypastamakemeaspellmaster” to unlock all the spells. Then just fireball everything until you win. You win when everything is on fire. Hooray!

And then you die. Of, uh, I don’t know, SIDS. That’ll teach you to get trapped in one of these stories.

FcknFierce wrote:You awake at a crossroads. You have no idea how you got there or how long you have slept. There are five signposted directions to take: Life, Death, Fortune, Fate and Destiny. As counter-intuitive as it may seem, you must, MUST, take the road to Death first. When you arrive at your destination after hours of walking (which was strangely untaxing on your legs) you find a house with boarded-up windows and a large, black portal with an ornate ivory door-knocker. Using the knocker will cause a wooden hand to form out of the wordwork of the door, and into this hand you must place the Ivory Key you found earlier.

Wait, I did mention the key, right? It’s sort of vital to continue.

Oh hell, wait a minute, I skipped ahead in the walkthrough. I must’ve tapped PgDwn or something. Hang on..

Okay, did you get past the minotaur yet? By tricking it into walking into the fire pits using the red scarf? Did I tell you to take the Death path first? Okay, wait, no.. no, this is.. ah, right, no, go down the “Fate” path first. There’s a gemstone down there that opens a portcullis in the Destiny path. Man, I’ve been going about this all backwards. Let’s start over:

You awake at a crossroads. Since you’ve read the Magician’s Journal, you already know that the Teleportation Ritual has deposited you here as a test to claim your rightful place as King of Etheria. Wait, this is for the second playthrough, oh goddammit. Here, just bring up the console and type “isuckatcreepypastamakemeaspellmaster” to unlock all the spells. Then just fireball everything until you win. You win when everything is on fire. Hooray!

And then you die. Of, uh, I don’t know, SIDS. That’ll teach you to get trapped in one of these stories.

rolfl, wtf!

Last one I will post for now:

Down around fourteenth and ninth, there’s an alley between a parkade and a small office building. Unlike many downtown alleys, this one is clear of parking and transients. In fact, there never seems to be anyone in it at all. There’s never a car cutting through to avoid traffic, never any teenagers looking for somewhere quiet. Despite the presence of loading docks and parking spaces, it’s as desolate as downtown can be.

If you walk down this alley in the winter, you’ll smell rotting meat coming from a dumpster and hear sounds emenating from it that sound like rats. But if you look inside the dumpster, you’ll find that it’s empty other than a plain tin bread box. The bread box will, despite being of a kind not manufactured for decades, be in mint condition.

If you open the box, which you should never do under any circumstances, you will discover that it contains your own severed head. Your head will tell you two secrets and a lie, and then expire.

FcknFierce wrote:Last one I will post for now:

Down around fourteenth and ninth, there’s an alley between a parkade and a small office building. Unlike many downtown alleys, this one is clear of parking and transients. In fact, there never seems to be anyone in it at all. There’s never a car cutting through to avoid traffic, never any teenagers looking for somewhere quiet. Despite the presence of loading docks and parking spaces, it’s as desolate as downtown can be.

If you walk down this alley in the winter, you’ll smell rotting meat coming from a dumpster and hear sounds emenating from it that sound like rats. But if you look inside the dumpster, you’ll find that it’s empty other than a plain tin bread box. The bread box will, despite being of a kind not manufactured for decades, be in mint condition.

If you open the box, which you should never do under any circumstances, you will discover that it contains your own severed head. Your head will tell you two secrets and a lie, and then expire.

Sounds like scary movie or something? lol

Lol....wow