Creepypasta Wiki - Recent changes [en]

Nightmare Fuel (Gallery)

2012-05-18T09:54:33Z

Editing a gallery

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:54, May 18, 2012
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	Rory-Una-RR_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle		Rory-Una-RR_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle
	Rimini-Riddle-TV-puppets_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle		Rimini-Riddle-TV-puppets_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle
-	creepy.jpg
	</gallery>		</gallery>
	[[Category:Meta]]		[[Category:Meta]]

Shattered

2012-05-18T09:50:12Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:50, May 18, 2012
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	<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>		<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>
	[[Category:OC]]		[[Category:OC]]
		+	[[Category:Mirrors]]

Talk:Shattered

2012-05-18T09:31:33Z

Created page with "Nice one :) ~~~~"

New page

Nice one :) [[User:Hetalia4ever|Heck, yes. I am awesome and you know it.]] 09:31, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

Talk:Happy Appy

2012-05-18T09:27:10Z

Started out good...: new section

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:27, May 18, 2012
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	Yuki		Yuki
		+
		+	== Started out good... ==
		+
		+	This was actually pretty good... at first. I thought it was a good concept, and it kept my interest until about the halfway point. However, once he starts describing EVERY SINGLE episode and relating plot points that have absolutely no relevance, I felt that I was in more pain than the kids in the story. It also became poorly written, which is a shame because it started out nicely. If the author made another (much shorter) creepypasta, then I'd be willing to read it. In the end though, I wouldn't recommend reading this. Much too short for what turned out to be no payoff.

Talk:Cure for Cancer

2012-05-18T09:06:42Z

Created page with "I'm surprised no one has commented on this yet. This was very, very good. I enjoyed it. ~~~~"

New page

I'm surprised no one has commented on this yet. This was very, very good. I enjoyed it.

[[User:AstroZombie337|AstroZombie337]] 09:06, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

Article Listing/S

2012-05-18T09:03:43Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:03, May 18, 2012
Line 164:		Line 164:
	*[[Sharks]]		*[[Sharks]]
	*[[Shark.exe]]		*[[Shark.exe]]
		+	*[[Shattered]]
	*[[A Shattering Psychosis\|Shattering Psychosis, A]]		*[[A Shattering Psychosis\|Shattering Psychosis, A]]
	*[[SHE]]		*[[SHE]]

User Submissions/E

2012-05-18T09:01:51Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:01, May 18, 2012
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	==Elemma==		==Elemma==
	*[[Mountains in Denmark]]		*[[Mountains in Denmark]]
		+
		+	==EnemySmiles==
		+	*[[Shattered]]

	== Erebella ==		== Erebella ==

Doodle's Suicide

2012-05-18T08:58:52Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:58, May 18, 2012
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	[[Category:Mental Illness]]		[[Category:Mental Illness]]
	[[Category:Death]]		[[Category:Death]]
-	[[Category:Ghosts]]

Shattered

2012-05-18T08:58:26Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:58, May 18, 2012
Line 39:		Line 39:
	<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>		<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>
	[[Category:OC]]		[[Category:OC]]
-	[[Category:US]]

Doodle's Suicide

2012-05-18T08:58:17Z

Adding categories

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:58, May 18, 2012
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	[[Category:Mental Illness]]		[[Category:Mental Illness]]
	[[Category:Death]]		[[Category:Death]]
		+	[[Category:Ghosts]]

Nightmare Fuel (Gallery)

2012-05-18T08:57:32Z

Editing a gallery

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:57, May 18, 2012
Line 318:		Line 318:
	Rory-Una-RR_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle		Rory-Una-RR_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle
	Rimini-Riddle-TV-puppets_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle		Rimini-Riddle-TV-puppets_jpg_jpg.jpg\|Old kid's TV show from Ireland, Rimini Riddle
		+	creepy.jpg
	</gallery>		</gallery>
	[[Category:Meta]]		[[Category:Meta]]

Shattered

2012-05-18T08:57:29Z

Adding categories

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:57, May 18, 2012
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	<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>		<span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"">To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”</span>
		+	[[Category:OC]]
		+	[[Category:US]]

File:Creepy.jpg

2012-05-18T08:57:26Z

uploaded a new version of "[[File:Creepy.jpg]]"

Shattered

2012-05-18T08:54:15Z

Created page with " I’ve always had this… thing… with mirrors..."

New page

I’ve always had this… thing… with mirrors. In all honesty, I’ve always felt a forbidden lure to them. As if mirrors ''called ''to me. Every time there’s a mirror, I can’t help but look. I can’t help but find and look into any form of reflection. Maybe subconsciously I wonder if my appearance changes from moment to moment, but I know that’s not the reason. Secretly, despite wanting not to, I know the real reason is because there is something probably there, drawing me to look.

At night, I cover my mirrors. All of them. Throughout the house, throughout my room. Especially in my room. 

I was only a little girl when I saw something in the mirror for the first time. I must have been six or seven when I woke up in the middle of the night, with that feeling that everything was asleep and not stirring. That feeling that the darkness swallowed light and sound, leaving you helpless in your bed. Your bed was your only safe haven, and you dared not move lest you disturb the silence the darkness so strongly built around you throughout the night. 

But that’s when I first remember feeling it. Not just the darkness, but a pull. My eyes were well-adjusted to the darkness, as one’s eyes are usually when you wake up in the middle of the night. I could see everything in my room clearly: my stuffed animals, a rocking chair that has since been sold at a garage sale, and many other knickknacks found within a little girl’s room. I remember looking over these things, slowly turning my head. I felt like I ''had ''to look. I coul[[File:Normal.jpg|thumb|374px]]dn’t stop, and I didn’t want to. I kept feeling this pull to look at that mirror. And, when I finally turned my head to look dead-on into the mirror, what I saw in that horrible reflection was enough to drain the color from my face. My little round face became as white as my nightgown as I took in what I saw.

A scream erupted from my throat, and didn’t stop until my parents stormed into my room, flipping the light switch on. As soon as the light came on, that horrible ''thing ''disappeared. That night haunted me for many nights afterwards and my blood-curdling scream echoed in my dreams for years.

It wasn’t until we were completely moved out of that house and into a new one that my curiosity got the better of me. I asked my mother about the old house we used to live in and about that night. She began to tremble so hard, she had to put the mug of coffee she held in her hand down on the counter in front of her. Her face flushed just as mine had when I was that poor six-year-old and she said these words:

“That night… what you told us was very disturbing. At first, we thought you had been dreaming. Passed it off as a nightmare. Tried to convince you that it was only a dream. But it wasn’t long afterwards that your father and I started experiencing peculiar things that we could not explain. Honey, do you even remember what you told us you saw?”

I shook my head; my mind had forcefully removed that image from my memory, to protect my sanity, I’m sure. The good it did in the end, with all my mirrors covered anyway. 

My mother took a deep breath, “Your father and I did research on the house and found out that it was owned a few years ago by a single dad. We found out that there had been a murder there not long after they bought the house. According to the newspaper article we found, there was blood everywhere, but no body. Investigators called it the most disturbing crime scene they had ever seen in all their careers. The father who committed the murder hung himself in his cell before they were able to get anything out of him. The murderer was a father of a beautiful little girl who went missing and was presumed by the investigators to be the victim. The only thing the man said was that the “other side” was telling him to do horrible things. That’s the only bit of information that they were able to extract from him before he took his own life.

“When your father and I remembered what you said you saw, we had to move out of that house as fast as possible. We pieced two and two together, hoping to escape that house as quickly as we could,”

Finally, my patience was at its end. I slammed my hand down on the counter, making her jump, “Mother! What did I see?!” 

My mom looked at me for a second, trying to calm down from the start, before continuing. “You said you saw another little girl looking right at you with blank eyes on the other side of the mirror, with a few bullet wounds in her forehead, with blood trickling down her face. She smiled at you. You said her smile was strange because her teeth were sharp and uneven. But it wasn’t what she looked like that scared you, you told us. You said it was what she said,”

I couldn’t even hear my breath at this point, “What… what did she say to me?”

“The little girl – Maribelle was her name – told you that your daddy was going to kill you too. That he was going to stuff you in the mirror where you would never be found again. She said you would never be able to escape, just like her. You said her voice sounded like a little girl’s should, but it had undertones of other voices. That’s when the little girl pressed herself against the mirror and tried to ''bite ''through the mirror between you both. And that’s when we came in. You must have been screaming through the whole experience,”

By the time my mother ended the story, I had tears in my eyes. This was far too intense for me, but I had to know more. “What else did you find out? Was that it?”

She gave me a pained look, wanting this topic to blow over, but I wouldn’t let it go. I repeated my questions with more vigor, wanting answers. She finally caved, “When we started seeing things in the corners of our eyes, lights flashing, shadows in mirrors that shouldn’t be there, we knew something bad was looming over us. Your father almost lost it at one point, smashing the mirror in our bathroom. He swore things were whispering to him. Incoherent whispers that drove him crazier each second. We decided to leave the house.

“That’s when we decided to look into the house’s history. The stuff the realtors hide from potential buyers. Well, there were a ton of murders in that house, not just the one. The one was the most pressing at the time, but we found that there were a few other murders with similar descriptions: blood everywhere and no body. That’s when your father had a hunch and called the police to do an investigation of the house one more time, presenting all the information we compiled. The walls that had mirrors were ripped open,” she paused, her hands shaking as she brought her coffee mug to her lips. I waited for her, my heart racing and my throat dry.

She looked at me dead-straight in the eyes, her voice filling the silence around us, “They found bones and bones and bones. All children. All stuffed behind the mirrors. There must have been at least ten bodies behind your mirror alone. One of the investigators retired immediately following that investigation. Said he had never seen so many bodies in one crime scene. Another investigator went to see a psychologist because of it. The thing that got them the most, despite the body count, was the skulls of the children. All of them were shot three times in the head and all of them… every single one of them… had their teeth jagged like broken glass. Autopsy had no idea how or why they were all like that. They theorized by looking at the wood surrounding the bodies and the parts behind the mirrors that all the children had tried to bite their way through when they couldn’t use their hands anymore. Just like what you saw Maribelle doing.”

To this day, there are people who live in that house and have no idea what horrors await them. I still cover my mirrors every night, but I cannot remove the image that my nightmares concoct: me as a wide-faced six-year-old, looking at my own reflection that night and, instead of seeing Maribelle’s face, I see mine, filled with the bullet holes and suffering from the jagged teeth, gnawing and scratching my way from inside the walls through that mirror, only to end up dying to the last sounds of Maribelle’s voice saying, “You will never be found again. You will never escape. Just. Like. Me.”

File:Normal.jpg

2012-05-18T08:52:52Z

uploaded "[[File:Normal.jpg]]"

User:LTGM

2012-05-18T08:39:33Z

My favorite pages:

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:39, May 18, 2012
Line 5:		Line 5:
	==My favorite pages==		==My favorite pages==

-	* Add links to your favorite pages on the wiki here!	+	* [[Journal Entries]]
-	* Favorite page #2	+	* [[Where Bad Kids Go]]
-	* Favorite page #3	+	* [[Sunlit Nightmare]]

Article Listing/Q

2012-05-18T08:28:38Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:28, May 18, 2012
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	*[[A Question\|Question, A]]		*[[A Question\|Question, A]]
	*[[Questioning Reality]]		*[[Questioning Reality]]
		+	*[[A Quiet Man\|Quiet Man, A]]
	*[[Quietness]]		*[[Quietness]]
	*[[Quilava is Mourning]]		*[[Quilava is Mourning]]
-	*[[Quinine]]	+	*[[Quinine]]
	*[[Quiltmakers]]		*[[Quiltmakers]]
	[[Category:Meta]]		[[Category:Meta]]

User Submissions/L

2012-05-18T08:24:43Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:24, May 18, 2012
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	Please ask me before you do anything (other than edit mistakes) with my stories, thank you.		Please ask me before you do anything (other than edit mistakes) with my stories, thank you.
	*[[I Don't See Him Anymore]]		*[[I Don't See Him Anymore]]
		+
		+
		+	==LTGM==
		+	*[[A Quiet Man]]

	==Luke Eatsyourbabies==		==Luke Eatsyourbabies==

A Quiet Man

2012-05-18T08:23:45Z

Created page with " During the day I work a normal, boring retail job. It's nothing special but it pays the bills and I'm good at it. I just got a nice promotion, my bosses all respect me (though..."

New page

During the day I work a normal, boring retail job. It's nothing special but it pays the bills and I'm good at it. I just got a nice promotion, my bosses all respect me (though there are a few I suspect don't like me) and I'm making enough to get by. But it's boring. Incredibly boring. There are days where we get so few customers that I resort to counting my steps as I make my way in a long circle around my section. Today I walked 6,193 steps. So, despite being successful, I hate my job. That's why I have another one.

I've been called a prostitute by people who don't understand what it is I do; and even by a few of my clients. But I'm not. I never have sex with my clients, for the most part I don't even get close enough to touch them. They do pay to spend the night with me but what we do is much more mundane than prostitution. Usually we just talk. That's it. Sometimes I'll have a client that wants to play a board game or watch a movie but it all comes back to them wanting someone to talk to. A little companionship.

They're mostly middle aged men, sometimes women, generally they have a least a little success and a lot of money, they're workaholics and most of them have a pretty bad drinking problem and they are all incredibly lonely. The few that have families don't like going home to them because they have difficulty relating and the ones that don't have families desperately wish to start one. It can be a depressing job but I enjoy it. I feel like I'm really helping some of these people, and that's what I've always wanted to do. Help.

Most nights follow a basic pattern. The client and I will meet somewhere, usually a restaurant, we'll go back to their home or they'll book a hotel, they usually put on a movie, and then we'll talk. Sometimes I'll do all the talking, sometimes they will. Some of them want to scream and vent, some want to cry, some want to tell jokes, and no matter what I'll listen. The sessions last anywhere from 2 to 6 hours and by the end they all seem happier. Then they pay me, always cash, and go home.

It's an easy job and pretty lucrative so it's well worth the occasional weirdo. But there was one client that got to me, that really made me want to quit.

He contacted me in late December and I agreed to meet him on January 2. He wanted me to meet him at his apartment - a condition I don't readily agree to and which comes with a significant increase in price - and he wanted the session to last only two hours.

It was snowing when I arrived and the sun was just rising over the roofs of the large apartment complex he lived in. It was a fairly ritzy place, lots of modern art on the walls and two big fountains in front of the main office - both totally frozen. There was a doorman in the lobby of his building and I had to sign in. The doorman seemed slightly offput by my less-than expensive clothes but that sort of thing didn't bother me. The man's apartment was on the fourth floor so I took the elevator and the whole time I felt strange. Not scared, just strange.

When I reached the fourth floor I realized that the apartments were cold, like there was no heater and I wondered if the power was out. If so, the man probably wouldn't be in a good mood. I made my way down the corridor, noting how each door was totally identical but for the gold numbers. There were no sounds coming from behind any of those doors and I assumed everyone was out, probably working considering how expensive the apartments must have been. Looking back, I'm not so sure.

The man's door was already open and it stood out in all the unbroken color of the wall. Seeing the empty space where the door should be only increased my uneasiness. When I reached the room I knocked, despite the obvious sign of welcome. The door opened into a small hallway that fed into the main room. I couldn't see anything in there but there as a painting hanging at the end of the hall showing a greenish landscape at night. It was an unremarkable picture but for the tiny cottage at the bottom-right that gave a sense of scope.

I stepped into the hallway and made my way around the corner. I moved slowly, scared to break the seemingly intrinsic silence of the place, and when I came around I found my client. He was sitting at a small table in the middle of an otherwise empty room. The room was large, bigger than I would have thought. At the time it seemed too big but I think that it was just an illusion caused by the smallness of the table. I don't really know. I'm unsure of a lot of things from that day.

The man looked up at me. He didn't smile or wave, or really acknowledge me in any way other than that stare. He was as unremarkable as his single painting. Plain face, glasses, cropped hair and clothes that reminded me of a banker. He sat with his back straight and his hands laced on the table. His elbows rested on his thighs.

This is the part where I should have walked away, where to this day I can't explain my actions. Nothing was right about this scene. I've come up with a million logical explanations for why his apartment was empty, for why I can't rememeber there being any other doors in that apartment that might lead to a bedroom or a bathroom, and for why now whenever I think of that painting on the wall my body reacts as if it were something grotesque. But none of them feel true. They all sound like lies in my head. There was just something wrong with that place.

I had a knife with me - you can't be too careful - and for just a moment I had thought about bringing it out. But I didn't, instead I made my way to the table and took a seat across from the man. He didn't say anything and neither did I. We merely sat and stared at one another.

Think about how you sit for a moment. Are you still? Do you fidget? Do you twiddle your fingers and move your eyes around the room as though it's somehow changed in the last few seconds? I spend a lot of time sitting with people and watching them and I tell you that no one is still. Everybody loses patience, loses endurance, and moves. We aren't calm creatures, even when we rest.

This man did none of that. His posture was solid and irreducible. He was rigid, like a rock. I got the feeling then and I feel now that he could have sat that way all day, for several days, and never once moved. Seeing this, however, made me fidged more. I found myself unable to get comfortable for even a second at a time. I had to shift my body several times and I cracked my knuckles more than once. I was sweating, despite the cold and my heartbeat struck the inside of my chest with unusual clarity. And all through this the man seemed to be getting excited.

There was no change in his posture or in his face, nothing to really show that he was reacting at all, but I could feel it. His pleasure buzzed in my head and slowly choked me. It was like he was feeding off of it, growing despite staying the same. It was a surreal Hell of discomfort that was more terrible than the worst dream I've ever had.

Eventually, I don't know when, the man had laid money on the table. The sight of it came to me as if through a feverish haze. It was as though my body had been asleep, though my eyes were open, and had suddenly come awake and my senses were all taking time to come back. I stared at the thick wad of bills for several minutes before realizing what it meant.

I snatched it up and left without a word. The man hadn't moved and he still wore the same blank expression as when I had first seen him. I felt him watching me as I left but I didn't turn around and as I left I made sure to avoid looking at the painting. The door was still open and I didn't bother closing it. The corridor was still silent, all the doors still closed but now I felt that the rooms weren't empty. I felt things behind the doors, perhaps standing in the hallway or watching through the peep holes.

I didn't run. Not because I was brave but because I felt that if I ran I wouldn't be able to keep my balance. The hall was spinning and pulsating and it took all of my concentration just to push the button to call the elevator. I stepped inside and as the doors closed I caught one last glimpse of the looming shadow that was the man's open door.

In the lobby, the doorman had been replaced. This new one was much nicer, he greeted me as I signed out and even wished me good night as I left the building. Outside, the sun had gone down and a thick coat of snow had covered the world.

I don't know how long I was in that room. I don't want to know. But I threw the money away. I dug a hole in the snow and buried it. Hopefully when the snow metled it destroyed those bills. I didn't want it. I felt defiled. I shut my business down for awhile after that but it didn't last long. Since meeting with that man I've found that I long to listen to people. It's different now. I need to hear these people's stories, I need to feel their emotions. I feel less satisfied than before, less good about what I'm doing. I feel more like I'm using these people.

I feel defiled.
[[Category:Beings]]
[[Category:OC]]

Article Listing/W

2012-05-18T07:42:12Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:42, May 18, 2012
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	*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]		*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]
	*[[Watching From the Forest]]		*[[Watching From the Forest]]
-	*[[Watching Over Me]]	+	*[[Watching Me]]
	*[[Watching When You Can't See]]		*[[Watching When You Can't See]]
	*[[Watching You]]		*[[Watching You]]

User:The Chaos Puppet

2012-05-18T07:41:53Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:41, May 18, 2012
Line 39:		Line 39:


		+	==And now, a word from the voices whispering in my ear...==
		+	*"Chaos and Order are two sides of the same coin. The real concern, is who is holding it."
		+	*"Love and Pain have a beautiful relationship. They spread discord like rats spread the plague."
		+	*"Seek refuge from the effects of blinding light in darkness. There, one could stumble upon a glimmer of hope."

	==Philosophies==		==Philosophies==
Line 48:		Line 52:
	*"Do not confuse status with power. Power is the ability to get things done. Status relies on the power of others to get things done."		*"Do not confuse status with power. Power is the ability to get things done. Status relies on the power of others to get things done."
	*"Language is a funny thing. It is the device we use to communicate ideas, yet it is about as transparent as concrete slab."		*"Language is a funny thing. It is the device we use to communicate ideas, yet it is about as transparent as concrete slab."
-	==And now, a word from the voices whispering in my ear...==
-	*"Chaos and Order are two sides of the same coin. The real concern, is who is holding it."
-	*"Love and Pain have a beautiful relationship. They spread discord like rats spread the plague."
-	*"Seek refuge from the effects of blinding light in darkness. There, one could stumble upon a glimmer of hope."
	== A few quotes==		== A few quotes==

Watching Over Me

2012-05-18T07:41:45Z

moved [[Watching Over Me]] to [[Watching Me]] [redirect suppressed]

Article Listing/W

2012-05-18T07:40:21Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:40, May 18, 2012
Line 46:		Line 46:
	*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]		*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]
	*[[Watching From the Forest]]		*[[Watching From the Forest]]
-	*[[Watching Over You]]	+	*[[Watching Over Me]]
	*[[Watching When You Can't See]]		*[[Watching When You Can't See]]
	*[[Watching You]]		*[[Watching You]]

Watching Over Me

2012-05-18T07:39:39Z

Created page with "Do you belive in "guardian angels"? Something that watches over you and keeps you safe when it can? You don't have to be religious, but sometimes you may feel someone is watching..."

New page

Do you belive in "guardian angels"? Something that watches over you and keeps you safe when it can? You don't have to be religious, but sometimes you may feel someone is watching over you. Sometime, it's not always what you expect.

When I was younger, I lived with my father and his mother. I was the only child, a girl at that, and my father was very protective of me. My grandmother, on the other hand, hated me. At first, she would just yell at me and shove me around when dad was at work. It escalated, quickly after he started working longer house to make ends meet. I rarely saw my father at that point. For 4 years, she did things I can't even bring myself to really think about, not enough to write it. For those 4 years, I prayed and prayed for release. I prayed and wished for her to die. To God, to whoever would listen. My dad probably would have believed me if I'd had a chance to talk to him, but she'd made me feel as though I were an abomination over the years that, I coudn't bear it anymore. After she killed my kitten and made me bury it, at the age of 13, I attempted suicide by hanging myself inside my closet.

Apparently, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and the bar in the closet that I tied myself to fell on my head and knocked me the fuck out. After lying in the dizzying pain for what seemed to be hours, I pulled myself up and headed to sneak into the bathroom without the monster cunt to catch me and give me another beating. As I left my bedroom, I caught a whiff of something very fucking rancid, like vomit, burning flesh, and blood, mixed together, warm. I knew all of these smells fairly well, considering what my grandmother did to me, and I thought for a moment it might have been my imagination, or her making something disgusting for me to eat to torture me more. While I recognized the seperate smells in a way, I'd never smelled something like this.

As I got closer and closer to the stairs overlooking the living room, which was right across from the bathroom, I started to hear something. Faintly, I remember hearing it a few feet back, but suddenly it seemed so much louder. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and all I could hear was gurgle, smack smack, squish squish, RIIIIIIIIIP. The mere idea of peeking over the stairs and into the living room was suddenly so profoundly frightening that I almost just went back into my bedroom, but strangely enough, it was amazingly easy to just do it anyway.

What I saw in the living room will never leave me for as long as I live, in more than one sense.

My grandmother was lying on the ground, someone in black kneeling over her crumpled body. They were both covered in blood. The person's head was moving rhythmically over its hands, which held what I then realized was an organ from her body. The person didn't look up, and I was scared silent.

There was so much blood. So, so much blood.

The sound of gnawing, the smacking mouth, the snapping of her organs at they were ripped from my grandmother's body (what was left of it), the brutally grotesque sight of her chest cavity having been torn open, of her body being consumed little by little filled me with terror I had never known before. I didn't know what to do. It ate her body, slowly, seeming to enjoy every bite it took, its body swaying and moving so unnaturally that I couldn't even think it was human.

I couldn't stop watching, I couldn't run away, the sheer terror of it choked the scream I would have let out. It stopped, I stopped. It looked up at me after what seemed an eternity, releasing the contents of its mouth. Gorey pieces and blood, some brown at that point, covered most of its face. What I could see of the face, it seemed to be male, very pale in patches. Where eyes were supposed to be were black pits, pits that seemed to dilate, expand and retract. He had no lips, but his mouth twitched, like some kind of hologram going in and out, slowly smiling, the smile expanding beyond normal human ability. I vomited and fainted.

I woke up, my father was home and worrying over me. My grandmother's body was gone along with all of the blood. "Where's grandma? Where is she?" I kept asking him, until I had to stop, from the look in his eyes. He told me her heart was bad, and she was "in heaven now". I couldn't believe it. That was impossible, right? Did I imagine that whole thing?

At her funeral, on the way to her burial site, I saw the man again. He looked more human, but I knew it was him. I remembered that smile. I still have dreams about that man, sometimes I think I see him in public. Even when I don't see him, I can feel him there. He's always there, watching me.
[[Category:Beings]]
[[Category:People]]

Article Listing/W

2012-05-18T07:38:37Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:38, May 18, 2012
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	*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]		*[[The Watchers\|Watchers, The]]
	*[[Watching From the Forest]]		*[[Watching From the Forest]]
		+	*[[Watching Over You]]
	*[[Watching When You Can't See]]		*[[Watching When You Can't See]]
	*[[Watching You]]		*[[Watching You]]

Old Markham House

2012-05-18T07:10:16Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:10, May 18, 2012
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	On Reesor Road, alongside some houses that are occupied today, you will find a dirt road leading into the forest. If you follow it, within a short distance it will lead to an abandoned house, in plain sight. Go inside. The house has been vandalized by teenagers and the ceiling is beginning to peel, but otherwise it is in good condition.		On Reesor Road, alongside some houses that are occupied today, you will find a dirt road leading into the forest. If you follow it, within a short distance it will lead to an abandoned house, in plain sight. Go inside. The house has been vandalized by teenagers and the ceiling is beginning to peel, but otherwise it is in good condition.

-	In the middle of the home you will see a stairwell, leading into the basement. In the entrance to the stairwell, the words "LEAVE NOW" will be spray painted on the wall. Don't Walk down the stairs. They're quite rickety though, so make sure you've got the proper equipment. Sit on the ground and wait.	+	In the middle of the home you will see a stairwell, leading into the basement. In the entrance to the stairwell, the words "LEAVE NOW" will be spray painted on the wall. Walk down the stairs. They're quite rickety though, so make sure you've got the proper equipment. Sit on the ground and wait.

	At exactly twelve in the morning, if there is a full moon, an old woman will walk down the stairs. You cannot hide from her, she will notice you right away.		At exactly twelve in the morning, if there is a full moon, an old woman will walk down the stairs. You cannot hide from her, she will notice you right away.

User blog comment:Hetalia4ever/Random Blog Thing While I Wait For My Friend To Make An Account/@comment-MooseJuice-20120517165944/@comment-ObliterationoftheSelf-20120518070436

2012-05-18T07:04:36Z

Created page with "Identify George Washingmachine-ton, then go back in time. AND KILL HIM."

New page

Identify George Washingmachine-ton, then go back in time. AND KILL HIM.

Normal Porn For Normal People

2012-05-18T06:53:54Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:53, May 18, 2012
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	Most of those two dozen videos were very uneventful, and consisted of people talking to the cameraman in a room with nothing in it but a desk and a few chairs. I mean literally nothing on the walls, or in terms of furniture. The whole room had a very cold, sterile feel to it.		Most of those two dozen videos were very uneventful, and consisted of people talking to the cameraman in a room with nothing in it but a desk and a few chairs. I mean literally nothing on the walls, or in terms of furniture. The whole room had a very cold, sterile feel to it.

-	The conversations where just idle banter about previous jobs or embarrassing childhood moments. I kept expecting some kind of discussion about what the people where filming or what the site was about, but of course, nothing. You would never know these videos had anything to do with porn if you saw it out of context. I will say one thing though, the people who appeared in these videos were quite attractive.	+	The conversations were just idle banter about previous jobs or embarrassing childhood moments. I kept expecting some kind of discussion about what the people were filming or what the site was about, but of course, nothing. You would never know these videos had anything to do with porn if you saw it out of context. I will say one thing though, the people who appeared in these videos were quite attractive.

	However, the other videos that actually did feature content which I suppose could be called “sexual” is where things got weird.		However, the other videos that actually did feature content which I suppose could be called “sexual” is where things got weird.
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	'''jimbo.avi'''		'''jimbo.avi'''

-	: A 5 minute video of a obese mime performing his act. It was actually pretty funny, particularly one part where he pretends to pull up a chair, then pretends that it breaks because of his weight. In the last 30 seconds of the video, the camera cuts to static briefly and cuts back to the man sobbing quietly, still wearing mime outfit and makeup. Some kind of obscure fetish?	+	: A 5 minute video of an obese mime performing his act. It was actually pretty funny, particularly one part where he pretends to pull up a chair, then pretends that it breaks because of his weight. In the last 30 seconds of the video, the camera cuts to static briefly and cuts back to the man sobbing quietly, still wearing mime outfit and makeup. Some kind of obscure fetish?

	'''dianna.avi'''		'''dianna.avi'''

-	: 4 minute video in which the camerman talks to a woman in a room different than the “interview room”. This room looks like one you’d find in a normal person’s house. Exactly where they are is never specified, as Dianna only talks about her violin playing. She obviously plays her violin, but she keeps getting distracted by something.	+	: 4 minute video in which the camerman talks to a woman in a room different from the “interview room”. This room looks like one you’d find in a normal person’s house. Exactly where they are is never specified, as Dianna only talks about her violin playing. She obviously plays her violin, but she keeps getting distracted by something.

-	: I didn’t notice this until someone on the image board thread pointed it out, but if you look at a mirror in the background, you can see a fat man in a chicken mask masturbating.	+	: I didn’t notice this until someone on the image board thread pointed it out, but if you look at the mirror in the background, you can see a fat man in a chicken mask masturbating.

	'''jessica.avi'''		'''jessica.avi'''
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	: The strange thing is: No one so far has been able to identify where this street is. Guesses have ranged everywhere from Europe to Australia to The Philippines, but there’s yet to be a match for the street shown in the video.		: The strange thing is: No one so far has been able to identify where this street is. Guesses have ranged everywhere from Europe to Australia to The Philippines, but there’s yet to be a match for the street shown in the video.

-	'''tounguetied.avi'''	+	'''tonguetied.avi'''

	: 10 minute video. The first 5 minutes consist of an elderly woman making out with a mannequin. The video cuts out like it did in jimbo.avi halfway through, and the scene is now a group of mannequins huddled together in a circle around the camera. The lights have been dimmed, and the elderly woman is nowhere to be seen. From this point on, there is no sound.		: 10 minute video. The first 5 minutes consist of an elderly woman making out with a mannequin. The video cuts out like it did in jimbo.avi halfway through, and the scene is now a group of mannequins huddled together in a circle around the camera. The lights have been dimmed, and the elderly woman is nowhere to be seen. From this point on, there is no sound.
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	: In this 18 minute video, a blond woman from one of the previous interview videos is tied down to a mattress in the interview room. She attempts to scream but her mouth is taped over. After 7 minutes, a man in a black suit and mask opens the door, but he does not enter.		: In this 18 minute video, a blond woman from one of the previous interview videos is tied down to a mattress in the interview room. She attempts to scream but her mouth is taped over. After 7 minutes, a man in a black suit and mask opens the door, but he does not enter.

-	: He holds the door open for the animal that was running in the hall in the previous video. It’s revealed to be an adult chimpanzee, it’s hair shaved and it’s entire body painted red. It seemed to be starved and abused, with several wounds along it’s shoulders and back. [[File:Angry_chimpanzee.jpg\|thumb\|210px]]	+	: He holds the door open for the animal that was running in the hall in the previous video. It’s revealed to be an adult chimpanzee, its hair shaved and its entire body painted red. It seemed to be starved and abused, with several wounds along it’s shoulders and back. [[File:Angry_chimpanzee.jpg\|thumb\|210px]]

	: When the chimp enters the room, the masked man closes the door behind it. The chimpanzee sniffs the air for a moment (it may have been blind), and notices the woman tied to the mattress. It goes into a frenzy, and begins to maul her.		: When the chimp enters the room, the masked man closes the door behind it. The chimpanzee sniffs the air for a moment (it may have been blind), and notices the woman tied to the mattress. It goes into a frenzy, and begins to maul her.
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	I have tried to discuss this website on various places, and I got banned frequently. The site itself was also deleted about 3 days after useless.avi was uncovered, likely because someone contacted the authorities about it.		I have tried to discuss this website on various places, and I got banned frequently. The site itself was also deleted about 3 days after useless.avi was uncovered, likely because someone contacted the authorities about it.

-	The only proof that normalpornfornormalpeople.com ever existed was a few screencaps people took, and videos from the site that people saved and uploaded on torrents. The most popular of which being useless.avi, which found it’s way onto a few gore sites.	+	The only proof that normalpornfornormalpeople.com ever existed was a few screencaps people took, and videos from the site that people saved and uploaded on torrents. The most popular of which being useless.avi, which found its way onto a few gore sites.

	Wherever you upload them to, all of the videos from normalpornfornormalpeople.com get deleted after a while.		Wherever you upload them to, all of the videos from normalpornfornormalpeople.com get deleted after a while.

User:Tyranical Tyranis

2012-05-18T06:52:09Z

Undo revision 142225 by Tyranical Tyranis (talk)

← Older revision	Revision as of 06:52, May 18, 2012
(One intermediate revision not shown)

Normal Porn For Normal People

2012-05-18T06:44:53Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:44, May 18, 2012
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	: ''“Normal Porn for Normal People, A Website Dedicated To The Eradication of Abnormal Sexuality”''		: ''“Normal Porn for Normal People, A Website Dedicated To The Eradication of Abnormal Sexuality”''

-	And from the sound of that, I wasn’t sure whether I was here to watch porn or if I had stumbled onto some kind of eugenics program. But I was here now, and I was very, very curious to see what “Normal People” get their rocks off to. So I scrolled down through the rant and…nothing. The page didn’t seem to link to anywhere else, and I was about to leave when I noticed every word of the rant was it’s own hyperlink.	+	And from the sound of that, I wasn’t sure whether I was here to watch porn or if I had stumbled onto some kind of eugenics program. But I was here now, and I was very, very curious to see what “Normal People” get their rocks off to. So I scrolled down through the rant and…nothing. The page didn’t seem to link to anywhere else, and I was about to leave when I noticed every word of the rant was its own hyperlink.

	So I clicked one of them, and was sent to a white page with very long list of links in the form of:		So I clicked one of them, and was sent to a white page with very long list of links in the form of:

The Sadness Is Sickening

2012-05-18T06:44:31Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:44, May 18, 2012
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	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">''<u>'''A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR'''</u>''</p>		<p style="margin-bottom:0in">''<u>'''A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR'''</u>''</p>

-	<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">This story will in fact continue on the 15<sup>th</sup> of next month. The story has elements of writings from Shakespeare, Cradle of Filth, Dante Alighieri, and a bit of my own. I hope you enjoy this.</p>	+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">I decided to shorten the release time. Any edits done by someone else other than spelling correction will be deleted by the author. The story has elements of writings from Shakespeare, Cradle of Filth, Dante Alighieri, and a bit of my own. I hope you enjoy this.</p>
	[[Category:Death]]		[[Category:Death]]
	[[Category:Unfinished Page]]		[[Category:Unfinished Page]]

Uhcakip

2012-05-18T06:43:41Z

Adding categories

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:43, May 18, 2012
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	[[Category:Disappearances]]		[[Category:Disappearances]]
	[[Category:US]]		[[Category:US]]
		+	[[Category:Death]]

The Sadness Is Sickening

2012-05-18T06:43:13Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:43, May 18, 2012
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	She was always beautiful. Even in death, her cold touch was soothing to my soul. Whenever I felt the urge to take the blade and end my life with it, I heard her gentle voice asking me to stop. I've been sitting in this palace of the dead for so long... that I swear it's heaven. I've grown so fond of it all. The darkness. The gray. The death. It's all so peaceful to me now. Then a force brings me back to life. The sadness for my lost Mary. Why does she retain her beauty? Why is she still so fair? Even after the alleged man who killed her had been caught, I felt no satisfaction. I long to be with her again. But the black robe of death refuses to meet with me. It refuses to come. Do I have it in myself to end it? Can I take the sheath that ended my love's life and finish mine too? I would gladly spend eternity in hell to see her one last time. Yet death refuses to come. The darkened sky seems so fitting for a morning like this. Or is it the night that brings my sorrow, as the sun vanquishes the darkness? I do not wish for the light. I wish for darkness. Just as I wish to see my lost love. As I relive the day that laughter died for the thousandth time when I lay my eyes on her, I recall another familiar emotion. The rage. It burns in me once again. And I want to see the end of my life. Taking it myself would mean my soul wanders in the pit mapped by Dante. I long for the end of my life. I long to see her again. I long for Mary...		She was always beautiful. Even in death, her cold touch was soothing to my soul. Whenever I felt the urge to take the blade and end my life with it, I heard her gentle voice asking me to stop. I've been sitting in this palace of the dead for so long... that I swear it's heaven. I've grown so fond of it all. The darkness. The gray. The death. It's all so peaceful to me now. Then a force brings me back to life. The sadness for my lost Mary. Why does she retain her beauty? Why is she still so fair? Even after the alleged man who killed her had been caught, I felt no satisfaction. I long to be with her again. But the black robe of death refuses to meet with me. It refuses to come. Do I have it in myself to end it? Can I take the sheath that ended my love's life and finish mine too? I would gladly spend eternity in hell to see her one last time. Yet death refuses to come. The darkened sky seems so fitting for a morning like this. Or is it the night that brings my sorrow, as the sun vanquishes the darkness? I do not wish for the light. I wish for darkness. Just as I wish to see my lost love. As I relive the day that laughter died for the thousandth time when I lay my eyes on her, I recall another familiar emotion. The rage. It burns in me once again. And I want to see the end of my life. Taking it myself would mean my soul wanders in the pit mapped by Dante. I long for the end of my life. I long to see her again. I long for Mary...

-	A 2 fortnights have passed since her life was shattered within my arms. Long had we lived in the Whitechapel district of London. And only recently was it that a killer had begun terrorizing the night. They called him Jack The Ripper, a name that was instantly feared. He killed 4 women before setting his sights on my Mary. He never killed people that were not alone. I thought we were safe. I was wrong. He approached us at a slow pace. When he closed in on us I saw the whites of his eyes, and that was all the time I was given. He lunged at me and slashed, carving a bloody V in my chest. I was in shock when I was suddenly bashed to the ground and stabbed in the arm with a knife, no doubt rusted by the blood of his past victims. I was helpless when he set his sights on Mary. One stab was all it took to cause her death. The last I saw of that villain was his feet hitting the ground, now stained by the blood of my love and of mine as well. I held her in my arms as her final breath escaped her lips. Only then did I realize the killer had left his blade in the chest of my love. I retrieved it. Staring at the knife, how easy now to sacrifice my life to have her with me. But I was stopped by the law from committing the mortal crime. If only they had not. Oh God, I wish they had not. I wish they had not...	+	2 fortnights have passed since her life was shattered within my arms. Long had we lived in the Whitechapel district of London. And only recently was it that a killer had begun terrorizing the night. They called him Jack The Ripper, a name that was instantly feared. He killed 4 women before setting his sights on my Mary. He never killed people that were not alone. I thought we were safe. I was wrong. He approached us at a slow pace. When he closed in on us I saw the whites of his eyes, and that was all the time I was given. He lunged at me and slashed, carving a bloody V in my chest. I was in shock when I was suddenly bashed to the ground and stabbed in the arm with a knife, no doubt rusted by the blood of his past victims. I was helpless when he set his sights on Mary. One stab was all it took to cause her death. The last I saw of that villain was his feet hitting the ground, now stained by the blood of my love and of mine as well. I held her in my arms as her final breath escaped her lips. Only then did I realize the killer had left his blade in the chest of my love. I retrieved it. Staring at the knife, how easy now to sacrifice my life to have her with me. But I was stopped by the law from committing the mortal crime. If only they had not. Oh God, I wish they had not. I wish they had not...
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">So here I lie, in a land of dread, waiting for death's cold embrace. Waiting, though it never arrives. Do I dare take my own life? I am reminded of the killer when I lay my eyes upon her again. The rage is building inside me. And it shall not subside. Never will I be satisfied with my life , unless I take the murderer with me. And my decision is made. I shall find the retched spawn that caused this, and end his life with the blade that ended my love's, and the sheath shall retire itself with a seventh death. My own.</p>
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">I ride to the site of my love's tragic death. The blood has been cleaned from the pavement, though I can still see the crimson liquid flowing from my love's wound. I can still her her final breath escaping her lungs. I can still hear the killer's feet as he was running away. It was a mistake returning here. But I must search. Where are you? As I search the night, I hear a scream that must have been someone's last, and I'm given the answer. I ride.</p>
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">The screams continue. The killer has stricken again, but he shall not escape this time. I ride as fast as I can to a ghastly sight. A woman’s stomach has been ripped from her body, and her throat cut, nearly severing her head from it's very spot. But the killer is nowhere to be found. I can hear the law arriving, and should I not escape this scene, I shall be pinned as the causer. But I must not. The killer is near, and I can hear his breath. Enjoy it while you can. For the next few are your last. I see a robe from the side of a building. “You're found”. The killer hears, and flees. “There is nowhere to run, you vile wretch!” I scream as his figure furthers away. Ride, Ride! You shall be found, Jack, and when you are, that hour is your last.</p>
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">His figure escapes into a theater. I run in after him, and I see a sign outside. “Romeo and Juliet. How fitting for a night like this” I thought as I entered. The famous balcony scene. How fitting. The room, filled with dark clothing and black robes, masks his location. The killer is no fool. But I shall find him. I know his eyes. I shall find you. This is the night you die.</p>
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">As I search the room, I catch a glimpse of a man on the balcony. This is no actor. I see a pistol in his hand, pointed at the actress playing Juliet. I won't let you kill another, Jack. I can't let it happen. I run up the stage. A shot is heard. I am too late. Then I hear the snap of another shot. The killer has jumped down the balcony and injured himself. A mistake. He has also dropped his pistol when he jumped down. I take the gun, and run towards him. He attempts to escape. He apparently came prepared. A horse drawn carriage is waiting for him. I cannot let him escape. I call my horse, and we ride.</p>
		+
		+
		+
		+
		+	<p style="margin-bottom:0in">A fire fight is broken out. We shoot at each other, knowing that there can only be one left standing. “This is the end of the line, Jack!” I yell as we're both headed into a closed gate. “No. This is the end of yours”. He shoots, and I feel a pain in my arm. I fall off my horse. I have a clear shot to one of his horses for a second. One bullet is left in the chamber of mine. I shoot, and the horse falls. I have you. I feel a stabbing pain in my arm, but not where he shot me. I then notice my chest is also bleeding. The wound he caused me those nights ago have opened with the fall from my horse. I will not survive the night, the least I could so is bring him with me. Then I notice something stirring in the overturned carriage. The killer has mounted his other horse. I do the same. The night is not over yet.</p>

User:LTGM

2012-05-18T06:38:15Z

User avatar added or updated

Creepy Noises

2012-05-18T06:38:01Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 06:38, May 18, 2012
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-	[[File:The_door.jpg\|thumb\|255px]]It was midnight. I had awoke to a parched feeling. I rose out of my bed and walked to the end of the hall. I was about to head downstairs into the kitchen when I suddenly heard a thud, followed by a whispering noise coming from behind me.	+	[[File:The_door.jpg\|thumb\|255px]]It was midnight. I had awoken to a parched feeling. I rose out of my bed and walked to the end of the hall. I was about to head downstairs into the kitchen when I suddenly heard a thud, followed by a whispering noise coming from behind me.

	The whispering seemed to be coming from the guest room across from my bedroom. Suddenly it stopped and I decided it was just my mind playing tricks on me, like it often does. I headed down the creeky wooden steps and opened the kitchen door, it was dark in there. Not that it usually wasn't dark at midnight, but this was a weird darkness... surreal. I flicked the light switch, but the light just wouldn't turn on, so I walked into the darkness frantically searching for the cupboard handle.		The whispering seemed to be coming from the guest room across from my bedroom. Suddenly it stopped and I decided it was just my mind playing tricks on me, like it often does. I headed down the creeky wooden steps and opened the kitchen door, it was dark in there. Not that it usually wasn't dark at midnight, but this was a weird darkness... surreal. I flicked the light switch, but the light just wouldn't turn on, so I walked into the darkness frantically searching for the cupboard handle.

User:EnemySmiles

2012-05-18T06:34:48Z

User avatar added or updated

User:LTGM

2012-05-18T06:34:11Z

New user account

User:EnemySmiles

2012-05-18T06:32:37Z

New user account

Article Listing/B

2012-05-18T05:57:07Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:57, May 18, 2012
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	*[[Blackness]]		*[[Blackness]]
	*[[The Black Nest\|Black Nest, The]]		*[[The Black Nest\|Black Nest, The]]
		+	*[[Blackout]]
	*[[Black Prism]]		*[[Black Prism]]
	*[[The Black Prophet\|Black Prophet, The]]		*[[The Black Prophet\|Black Prophet, The]]

Blackout

2012-05-18T05:46:48Z

Created page with " The story goes a little bit like this. I live in Sao Paulo, Brazil, one of the biggest cities in the world. Back in the day, I use to be a Geography major in one of the most res..."

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The story goes a little bit like this. I live in Sao Paulo, Brazil, one of the biggest cities in the world. Back in the day, I use to be a Geography major in one of the most respected schools in Brazil. One day, I was walking to a class with a couple of friends, Marcelo and Luiza, when we saw on the bulletin board on the hallway something about a speleology course, sort of thing. Being geography majors that we were, we couldn't pass an opportunity like that. So we did it and learnt the basics. Time went by and we were anways planning a trip to the countryside to put our new knowledge to use. It wasn't until the end of the semester that, after some looking around, we found a cave not far from the city. We had it all planned, we would go there, spend the day looking around, smoking weed and all the fun stuff that you can do in a cave. There's one thing we didn't know about the cave that would be our "demise". When it rained and the tide of the river that passed through it was right, there was no way out. And that's exactly what happened to us. We were there, doing our thing, when we noticed that the river flow was fast and that it was raining outside, we didn't know about the little detail about the cave so we shrugged it off and decided to wait for the rain to stop. We ended up staying there for about three days. I thank God to this day for Luiza having thought about turning the speleology trip into a camping trip, which made her bring extra food and stuff. For some reason, we weren't that scared of being trapped inside of a unknown cave. I come to think of it now, we shouldn't be. Even though the cave is called The Devil's Cave, the outside is what was grimy.

It wasn't much of a hike from the entrance of the cave to where we left Marcelo's parent's car. It took a long time because we were all having this feeling that something was definetly wrong. It's not like the forest wasn't alive or that we could only hear the sound of our steps, kind of the opposite, the forest was alive like it's supposed to. It was early in the morning, so the birds we're singing and all that. But there was still something wrong. We menaged to get to the car and once we took the main road, the first thing we saw was some cows wandering on the road. Brazil may be sort of a third world country, but we're not India, cattle just don't walk around on roads. We avoided hitting them and went on our way. The road was suspiciously quiet. No buses, no trucks, no cars. Just us. We still thought it was maybe the time. How foolish of us. We rode about 1,5 miles when we saw a first car. It was just parked in the middle of the road. Doing nothing. We passed by it and we saw that there was a family inside of it. Husband, wife, two kids. What was weird was that they were still like statues. Marcelo decided to stop the car to investigate further. When we got to the family's car, it was just like that. They looked like wax sculptures. They looked like they were caught in the middle of the trip. They all looked calm, the husband looked like he was focused on the road, the wife looked like she was watching the side of the road and the kids were fast asleep. We all yelled and screamed and did everything to make them wake up from that trance, or whatever that was. Nothing worked, we even honked the family's car horn. Nothing. Luiza started to get scare, we tried to comfort her but we weren't really positive of what was happening.

As we went further from the park where the cave was, and closer to the city, more and more cars like family's were showing up. There were people inside, alright, but they all were like wax sculptures. No movement, no breathing, nothing. It was all very eerie and weird. We didn't really know what to do, but we still went to the city. We went downtown to see if there was anybody. Nothing. It was then that it got to Marcelo that we all should look for our families then meet up at the uni. I was avoiding the thought. Just thinking about my family there, all still. I couldn't do it. Anyway, I "borrowed" a bike and went to my place. Went I got there, it hit me. I was alone. Just me, Marcelo and Luiza. All alone. It couldn't be true. It was like a sick joke. But it was happening. I could touch them.

My parents were sleeping when whatever that happened happened. So was my sister. The only live presence in the whole house was my dog Bob and a neighbour's cat. I was happy that Bob was around. I then got my father's car and went back to the uni, where I would meet the other two. It was already dark then, and for some reason I didn't bother turning on the headlights. That's when I saw her for the first time. I was a few blocks from the uni when I hit something. I turned the headlights on to see what I've hit. It was a crackhead that was probably crossing the street when whatever happened. What was weird, was that when I hit him, he went limp, like a proper corpse. That made me think that the wax people were alive somehow. I was thinking about that when I saw someone behind my car. I couldn't make out that shape really, but I could see it was a human, and that it wasn't one of us. I ran towards her and when I got there, she wasn't there anymore.

I went to the uni and met Marcelo and Luiza. They were both very shaken, specially Luiza. It was really weird to see her like that, she was always very strong and up to anything. We didn't know what to do. Period. The world was ours and we were free in any way possible. We didn't know what to do. At this point, we were walking torwards where Marcelo had parked the car he got. I could see he was angry, I knew him enough to know he was furious. Suddently, when we saw one of the waxes, he started yelling at him. "Stop the show! I don't wanna play anymore! Talk to me motherfucker!" He then kicked the "wax" man, which made him fall. Marcelo theen proceded to punch and kick and bite and try to hurt the man to see if anything happened. We tried to stop him but he was too frantic. He then grabbed a fire stinguisher and smashed the man's face. It was when he did that the man left his pose, and went limp, like the crackhead I hit. Luiza totally panicked. She started crying and going on about how evil he was that he killed an innocent man. I wasn't paying attention to that. What was in my mind was the cackle. I knew I heard it. It was like an old woman's. I turned my flashlight towards the direction where I heard it and there she was. She looked like a very old woman. As if the insides of her body shrunk and the skin remained the same size. he was all wrinkly and her skin had a weird tone, like it was rubber or something. I turned to tell the other guys about her but when we turned back. She wasn't there anymore.

Both Luiza and Marcelo thought I was seeing things. Getting crazy. It couldn't be, as far as we'v seen, we were the only "alive" human beings. No one else was doing anything. They were just there, motionless, like statues. We decided to set camp at a very fine hotel downtown. Its generator's power was still working so we had lights and air-conditioning and comforts in general. We were there for a few hours when Marcelo said he had to go somewhere. We asked where and he would not tell us. Luiza was very scared and asked me to hold her. As I was holding her, she ended up sleeping. I was still alert, but I thought it was nice that she menaged to sleep. I was almost sleeping myself when I heeard gunfire. Luiza woke up startled and I jumped and ran towards the balcony. Down at the street in front of the hotel was Marcelo. He was clearly drunk and had guns with him. We went downstairs to talk to him. "Let's get the party started!" He screamed. He showed us what he got. Several bottles of Johnnie Walker Blue, Old Parr and other whiskeys. A lot of marijuana that he told us that, along with the guns, he got from a local police department. Me and Luiza gave into the mood and started drinking and smoking as well. Marcelo started showing us the granades he got. Accidentally he threw one too close to a parked car not far from where we were. We all saw her this time. And she talked to us.

"You". Then she vanished. That's was all she said. If she said it in english, we could've confused with a breath or something like that. She said it in portuguese, and you can't mix up "vocês" with anything else. Anyway, I don't think I've ever been this scared in my entire life. Marcelo threw up. Luiza was shaking so much I thought she was going to collapse. I was just too shocked to do anything. I looked around and all I felt was fear. I was afraid of the wax people. I was afraid of the old woman. I was afraid for my friends. I looked at the car that exploded and I saw that there was a couple inside of it. Both of them dead. The left half of the man's body was disfigured by the bomb. The top of the girl's had was blown away exposing her brain. I know this sounds weird. But I think the guy was getting a blowjob when it happened. Not the granade, whatever turned them in what they were. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to be alone. I went back into the hotel and went into a random room.

When I went into the room I saw what I thought was an angel. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Jet-black hair, the fairest skin I've seen. She was there, sleeping. I felt like crying. It was like peace in front of me. To counterbalance all turmoil I was feeling inside of me. I wanted to feel her. Touch her. I lied down next to her and smelled her. It was like nothing in the world existed aside from me and her. I then saw something that didn't occur to me until now. There was this alarm clock next to her bed. And it showed it was 1:11 am. I knew it wasn't 1:11 am because my watch was working properly and it showed it was 12:27 am. I thought that I maybe should wait until the next 1:11 am. I wrapped my arms around my angel and waited until time came. When it was about 1:05, I heard screaming and yelling and gunfire. Shit hit the fan, I thought. The elevator was taking to long to come so I took the stairs, as I went down the stairs, I heard the old woman cackling and I felt she was close to me.

When I got down there, Marcelo was totally berzerked, he was shooting randomly and screaming insanities and slurring. It was like he was posessed or something. Luiza was laying in fetal posision behind a car sobbing histerically. I asked her what happened. "He's hearing her, she's trying to talk to him." "Who?" I asked. "Death, Nunzio, Death!" Then it hit me. The old lady was Death. And she only showed up when we killed one of the "sculptures". Marcelo was trying to kill all the sculptures so Death would take him as well. She took him eventually. and now it's only me, Luiza and Marcelo's kid. Yes, Marcelo's kid. Luiza only went to the cave with us because she was planning to tell him she was pregnant. Now it's just us. Having small glimpses of Death whenever we are not cautious enough or when the buildings deteriorate so much they collapse. When that happens, she's just there, standing and laughing. And she looks at us and knows. She knows that sooner or later, we'll join her.

User:Fpazuzu

2012-05-18T05:45:54Z

New user account

Cure for Cancer

2012-05-18T05:38:44Z

Category edit.

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	—and something pointed and greasy tore across his tongue like a rasp. He jerked his head back, tasting his own welling blood, and something else too: the pang of loneliness, abandonment and dark, brackish coffee. The taste of cancer. He leaned forward and kissed her harder this time, pressing his face against hers, his weight fully on her chest, her blistering breath forced down his throat, scalding his esophagus like bad scotch, unfurling in his lungs, settling contentedly there. He kept his lips on her, one minute, two minutes, almost three. Then pulled back, gasping for air. His heart hammered desperately; his vision blurred. Losing his balance, he toppled backwards off the gurney, felt ribs crack when he hit something that jutted from the cold floor, though he couldn't quite think what it might be, and it didn't really bother him all that much. Nicholas' limbs twitched uselessly as he convulsed. But bit by bit his body stilled as the cure took hold.		—and something pointed and greasy tore across his tongue like a rasp. He jerked his head back, tasting his own welling blood, and something else too: the pang of loneliness, abandonment and dark, brackish coffee. The taste of cancer. He leaned forward and kissed her harder this time, pressing his face against hers, his weight fully on her chest, her blistering breath forced down his throat, scalding his esophagus like bad scotch, unfurling in his lungs, settling contentedly there. He kept his lips on her, one minute, two minutes, almost three. Then pulled back, gasping for air. His heart hammered desperately; his vision blurred. Losing his balance, he toppled backwards off the gurney, felt ribs crack when he hit something that jutted from the cold floor, though he couldn't quite think what it might be, and it didn't really bother him all that much. Nicholas' limbs twitched uselessly as he convulsed. But bit by bit his body stilled as the cure took hold.
	[[Category:NSFW]]		[[Category:NSFW]]
-	[[Category:Monsters]]
	[[Category:Science Pastas]]		[[Category:Science Pastas]]
-	[[Category:Beings]]	+	[[Category:People]]

Talk:Lavender Town Victim

2012-05-18T05:38:23Z

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	Flameof1000Worlds 20:53, May 17, 2012 (UTC)		Flameof1000Worlds 20:53, May 17, 2012 (UTC)
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		+	The Lavender Town thing is so overdone... [[User:Hetalia4ever\|Heck, yes. I am awesome and you know it.]] 05:38, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

Talk:Creepy Noises

2012-05-18T05:29:59Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:29, May 18, 2012
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	This was a good one. [[User:Shinigami.Eyes\|Shinigami.Eyes]] 05:28, May 18, 2012 (UTC)		This was a good one. [[User:Shinigami.Eyes\|Shinigami.Eyes]] 05:28, May 18, 2012 (UTC)
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		+	^ Same. :) [[User:Hetalia4ever\|Heck, yes. I am awesome and you know it.]] 05:29, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

Talk:Creepy Noises

2012-05-18T05:28:13Z

Created page with "This was a good one. ~~~~"

New page

This was a good one. [[User:Shinigami.Eyes|Shinigami.Eyes]] 05:28, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

User talk:Truter

2012-05-18T05:28:07Z

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	Please leave a message on [[User talk:Weirdowithcoffee\|my talk page]] if I can help with anything! -- [[User:Weirdowithcoffee\|Weirdowithcoffee]] ([[User_talk:Weirdowithcoffee\|Talk]]) 23:23, May 17, 2012		Please leave a message on [[User talk:Weirdowithcoffee\|my talk page]] if I can help with anything! -- [[User:Weirdowithcoffee\|Weirdowithcoffee]] ([[User_talk:Weirdowithcoffee\|Talk]]) 23:23, May 17, 2012
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		+	Do not post screamers. You are banned for a week. Read the rules next time. [[User:ObliterationoftheSelf\|We're gonna smash their brains in, cuz they ain't got nothin' in em...]] 05:28, May 18, 2012 (UTC)

User:Truter

2012-05-18T05:27:25Z

blocked [[Truter (Talk | contribs)]] with an expiry time of 1 week (account creation disabled, cannot edit own talk page) posting screamer

File:Mindscaryc.gif

2012-05-18T05:26:41Z

deleted "[[File:Mindscaryc.gif]]" screamer

Creeping Thoughts

2012-05-18T05:25:27Z

Adding categories

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	[[Category:Computers and Internet]]		[[Category:Computers and Internet]]
	[[Category:Beings]]		[[Category:Beings]]
		+	[[Category:Marked for Review]]