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Showing posts from April, 2010

Roulette

During your day, there are probably a half a dozen moments where you can’t see, if only for a split second. Not like blinking, of course, that’s far too quick . Just that moment when you’re taking off your shirt, or wiping your face with a towel. That brief instant where you’re plunged into darkness. Every time this occurs, you’re playing roulette. A game. Unbeknownst to you, of course. Every time that happens there is something waiting, eagerly, to pull you into that darkness. That only happens if you lose, of course. One day you might open your eyes to find that you’re not where you were before. There are unsolved missing person cases every week. Those people? They lost. By: JHubbbb

Inspiration

You know those long, involved ritual creepypastas, the ones that involve a million different steps, the ones where if you breathe at the wrong second you die? Ever wonder who figured it out? It couldn’t have been trial and error – you don’t get a second try at something like that. The answer’s actually pretty simple. Nobody figured it out. He already knew. There’s… an entity, I suppose you could call it, although I always think of it as a him. A little boy, to be exact. He seems to enjoy playing around with people, you see. And he knows all the rituals, or at least all the real ones. So sometimes he spreads out the information. Ever felt inspired to write some piece of horror that seemed to contain elements that didn’t even exist in your nightmares? Ever had a disturbing idea for some horrible but compelling rite, that seemed to ‘just come to you’? It might have been him working through you. If you get one of those flashes, write it down and post it. I can’t guarantee your hea

Ground Control to Major Tom

“Did you take your protein pills? Good, now put your helmet on.” Ground Control commanded and Major Tom obeyed. Ground Control droned on as Tom sat in his seat in his cramped capsule and waited. “Commencing countdown, engines are active.” Tom counted down with the man on the microphone as he felt the rush of anxiety flow through his veins. “10… 9… 8…” Tom checked the ignition and heard one final phrase from Ground Control. “May God’s love be with you. LIFTOFF.” Thats all Tom remembered. He woke up to a deep black outside of his spaceship windows and an eruption of cheers from his headset. “Good work Tom, you’ve really made the grade. Just exit your capsule and pilot the ship.” Tom obeyed and exited his capsule, and floated in a most peculiar way to the pilot’s seat. Floating through space a hundred thousand miles from Earth was the spaceship of Major Tom. It had been three months since the launch and the only company Tom had was the reiteration of pre-launch instructions i

The Forgotten Vending Machine

There is a village somewhere in England that has not been inhabited for over 20 years. It has long since been forgotten off of most maps, and only has one road in and out of it. If you manage to find it, it will seem a peaceable enough place, the derelict buildings being overgrown and nature taking back the land for herself. However somewhere within the village is a vending machine which still has power. it will still have it’s original look and sell ordinary brands of drink (though with 20 year old packaging) however the one at the very bottom will be marked “E”. Pay only in 10p pieces to buy this drink. Before drinking the mysterious beverage, peer inside the can to check it’s colour (do not try to pour some out. it will refuse to leave the can despite any vigorous shaking you may attempt). If it is green in color, drink heartily, as it will give you an unnaturally long lifespan and good luck in everything you do. If it is red, however, drinking it will spread a horrific

Congratulations Isn’t Always The Right Word

As I got out of the car, my pulse quickened. My palms started sweating. Tears formed in my eyes. I just got back from the doctor. He confirmed it. Pregnant. And it wasn’t my husband’s. I walked to the door, hands shaking, fumbling for keys. I let myself in. I heard whistling from the kitchen. As I walked in, I saw my daughter, Carol, coloring at the dining room table, looking nervous. My husband, Peter seemed to be washing the dishes by hand. I watched as a plate was lifted, wiped, and put down. “Hey sweetie,” I heard Peter say as another plate was set down. “How was your day?” “Carol, can you go upstairs please?” I asked. Carol gave me a brief nod, and bolted out of the room. “Is something wrong?” Peter asked, concern in his voice. When I was sure Carol was out of earshot, I turned to Peter’s voice. “I’m pregnant.” “But….that…isn’t….possible.” I heard Peter say, confused. “Wait….unless….” Those last words were spoken in anger, and I felt a hand close around my throat and slam me again

Nightmare

I’ve been having the same horrifying nightmare for almost a week now. I’m chained down to a metal table and a man wearing a welding mask is laughing like a psychopath while sawing my arms off. First he started with my left arm, and for three nights in a row he sawed little by little until I’d wake up in cold sweats. By the end of the third night he had sawed it completely off. Then he started cutting away at my right arm. Before I woke up this morning he had just finished cutting that completely off. The pain always feels so visceral too. With each slide of the blade I would scream out in pain. But the weirdest thing is ever since I’ve started having this nightmare, weird stuff has been happening in my real life too. Unexplainable things. Like I’ll be watching television and look down at my phone really quick and when I look up the channel will be changed. One time the T.V. was just turned completely off. The other day I was hanging out with my friend and all of a sudden

Baby Monitor

My husband and I had a baby a little over a year ago and he’s just starting to be able to say his first word. ‘Mommy’, though he can’t pronounce it well yet. It sounds like he’s saying ‘bommy’, but just the fact that he’s learning so fast makes us both proud. He’s a great kid too. During the day he almost never cries, and at night he hasn’t cried once. Or so we thought. The other day my husband realized he left his cell phone in the baby’s room right before we went to sleep. He went in and got it, but I noticed that I didn’t hear him on the baby monitor. When he came back to bed he told me that the baby was crying and calling out for me. Apparently our baby monitor wasn’t working anymore. So that night we let the baby sleep in our room and the next day we went out and bought a brand new one. We set it up and it worked fine. Later that night we were woken up to the baby crying and calling out “Bommy! Bommy!” My husband said he would go check on him since I had work early i

Olfactory

They say that the olfactory senses (the sense of smell) is the sense closest linked to memory. Go on eBay, or to a high-end antiques dealer. Find an item made a good amount of time before you were born that was hermetically sealed, vacuum packed or tightly packaged in some way. Make sure you are in surroundings of completely neutral smell with little or no wind. Open the package. The smell should hearken back to your collective subconscious or memory of a past life. If you are successful in choosing the right item, with the right smell, you will have at least a memory flash, or likely a memory flood of years before you were born.

Mile Marker 254

I passed mile marker 254 about a day ago. I remember telling myself that I’d stop driving one day. I couldn’t do this job forever. Hauling freight was tiring. From railyard to railyard. Over and over again. I’m tired. I’m tired of driving. I should quit this job. I should’ve quit this job a long time ago. But I didn’t. And so here I am. I passed mile marker 254 about twelve hours ago. I even told my wife that I’d quit driving. She said it wasn’t good for the kids. Seeing me only once every two weeks as a best case scenario. Often it was for a month at a time. I mean, I was good at my job. We always had money. I liked making it like that. My family never had to struggle. Growing up, I had nothing. I was just a poor kid of a drunk. My dad drank until all the car titles were loaned out and he’d stop drinking just long enough to buy em back. He’d start all over again. It was just the way it was. I didn’t want that for my kids. My dad died of cirrhosis of the liver about ten years back. I m

Blown Kisses

Some time ago, a man punished his 5-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became even more upset when the child used the gold paper to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." The father was embarrassed by his over-reaction earlier, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty. He spoke to her in a harsh manner, "Do you know, young lady, that when you give someone a present, there is supposed to be something inside the package?" The little girl looked up to him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was full." The father was crushed. He fell onto his knees and put his arms around his little girl, begging her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger. An accident took the little girl's life a short time lat

Mirror Mirror

I woke up, sluggish. As usual. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and stepped out into the dressing room to change. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then I look in my mirror. And I pause. That’s not right. I’m not smiling. Why is my reflection smiling? I move. He doesn’t. He stands straight. Facing me. Smiling. Something is strange about his eyes.. the irises.. they’re black.. I don’t know why, but I hold my face an inch away from the mirror, getting a closer look. Studying him. And that’s when it happened. He moved. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, pulled me in, and stepped out. Now I was inside, trapped. I panicked, ran around my room’s reflection. There was nowhere to go, nothing I was able to do.. and he just stood there.. Smiling.. that evil, sinister smile.. He blinked a few times, and his eyes suddenly looked like mine. Then he turned around and left my room. It wasn’t long before I heard my family’s screams.. it wasn’t long before the screaming stopp

Speed Kills

I was nineteen. It was 2:33am. I was driving down an empty highway, and I was doing around 150mph in my father’s jeep. Then I saw the blue lights flash behind me; cops. I pulled over, they suspended my driver’s license, and escorted me home. I’m twenty-one. Since that day, I decided I’d cut off all my friends. I stopped becoming so social. My family don’t even care about me anymore, it seems I’ve disappointed them to the point where they’ve given up, so I don’t talk to them much. I was nineteen. It was 2:33am. I was doing 150mph. I was making a mistake. I’m twenty-one, and I still drive my dad’s jeep, he has a new car now. I rarely stay at home anymore, I spend all day driving around alone, smoking, drinking, making no human contact. Anything to keep me away from all the crying and constant barging into my room. I was nineteen. I saw the blue lights flash behind me. I did not pull over. I’m twenty-two in a couple of days, but I’m not going to celebrate. Everyone ignores me on

Wait, Something’s Not Right

A sound wakes you up, sounded like a knock on your front door. It’s way past midnight, you’re lying on the sofa with the TV on static. The house is dark, the lights are off. You’re all alone. You look out the window, see there’s a full moon, shining its light through the glass pane. You get up and head towards the front door. You look through the peephole. No one outside. You open the door. Find no one. You check around the porch. Still no one. Maybe kids were playing tricks on you. Annoyed, you shut the door, turn off the TV, close the window, and head upstairs to your bedroom for the night. – Credits to: morasyid

Girls Love Confidence

She was always talking about them. Brandon’s thick black hair, Aiden’s bronze skin. Josh’s sexy biceps and Will’s tight ass. I was so fucking sick of hearing about all these perfect guys that I could never be. That look in her shining blue eyes, that lust. The way she didn’t even notice that I was gut-wrenchingly, agonizingly in love with her. You’re my best friend, Tom  she told me often. I smiled and agreed, but I didn’t want to be her friend. I wanted to be  wanted . It took months of hard work, but I finally did it. I walked confidently up the stairs to her bedroom, smiling at my reflection in every mirror and pane of glass that I passed. It was amazing, the way a change in appearance changed my whole attitude. I turned on her light. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes for a moment before she focused on me and gasped. I don’t blame her,  I thought as I ran my fingers through Brandon’s thick black hair and admired the way Aiden’s smooth bronze skin glowed in the dim light.  I really

Monster

A monster lives in the alley beside my house. It hides below the fire escape ladder, sleeps beneath dumpsters. It is thin and long and smells like cooked vinegar, popping, sizzling. When I visit it sniffs me, walks around me, then lays at my feet and mewls. I counted seventeen ribs under its paper skin. I fed it scraps and dog food and those ribs sank below its stomach. It cooed when I fed it. Mom would snort at my bruises. She would sit in the kitchen chewing tobacco while dad shouted. The monster would finger brush my hair and nuzzle my cheek. Sometimes loud people stumbled into the alley, beers in brown bags. The monster curved its spine and opened its mouth wide, tongue spilling out, and the people ran. Only I was allowed there. The alley was ours, our place to hide and listen. One day dad followed me and saw the monster. The monster scared him, and he shouted and hit it. The monster wrapped its fingers around dad’s neck, twisted, cracked, and killed dad. It ate his bod

I’ll Kill You For This

The man I killed was my cousin. I didn’t really want to, but it had to be done. It was just business. You can’t be a part of our family and be a rat. He had to go. So I stopped by his house the other day and when he opened his door I shot him in the chest three times with my .22. I did feel bad about it though, I mean I grew up with the guy, so I knelt down while he was still gasping for air and I told him how sorry I was and that I loved him. He grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me in closer to him. The last words he said to me, before his eyes stared blankly through the ceiling of his house and he made that gurgling sound, was “I’ll kill you for this.” Now he’s dead, so how’s he going to do that, right? But some real weird stuff has been going on since I killed him. The night I did it, on my drive home, a semi truck coming in the opposite direction starts veering into my lane. I was able to swerve out of the way but I went off road and just missed smashing into a telep

Copper Canyon

SATURDAY                                       07-23-2011 Transcript of call from witness R.L. 2:20 p.m. Dispatcher:  911, what’s your emergency? Caller R.L.:  I need to report an accident. Somebody- a car just went over the barrier on the I-17. Northbound. Dispatcher:  Sir, do you see a mile marker? Caller R.L.:  Yeah, we’re, ah, we’re outside of Camp Verde in Copper Canyon. I’m walking towards the mile marker. There’s- it looks like 282. Dispatcher:  How many vehicles are involved? Caller R.L.  I think it’s- oh fuck, did you hear that? Whatever ran off the cliff just exploded. There’s smoke coming up over the side of the mountain. Dispatcher:  We’ve got someone on the way.                                        -           07-23-2011 Transcript of call from witness D.W. 2:22 p.m. Dispatcher:  Yavapai County 911, what’s the emergency? Caller D.W.:  Yeah, an SUV just went over the cliff. The car is on fire and there are people screaming. It’s…it’s fucking chaos out here. Dispatcher:  I

Uncle Dan Promised

December 5, 2014 In my dream, I see a younger version of myself. I’m guessing 5 years old? I was playing in a sand box with my GI-Joes when all of a sudden, a bunch of older kids approached me and started kicking sand all over my face. I see myself trying to block the sand with my little hands and arms but with no luck. I don’t know how it’s possible but watching the occurrence made me tear as well. I felt the sand pricking my own two eyes… It hurts. Little me pleaded for them to stop in between sobs but they just continued on satisfying their cruel intent. But then someone shouted not too far away from the scene and told the bullies to stop picking on me. They ran away laughing and giving high fives to one another as if their task for today was fulfilled. I saw Uncle Dan. He rushed forward and picked me up telling me that it’s going to be okay. His eyes full of concern. My dream then shifted into a different setting. It was our old house. I was playing in our backyard. Little me was s

They Beckon

The 18-wheeler rolled through the midnight terrain at a constant speed of 75 miles per hour. The trucker hadn’t given his name. The hitch-hiker with his mop of tangled blond hair, his ragged camouflage backpack, and his unchecked wanderlust wouldn’t have remembered it anyway. It was a lonely stretch of interstate somewhere on the map between one coast and the other. It didn’t matter if it was Minnesota or Texas, Florida or Idaho, it all looked the same in the dark. The stars were a scattering of illuminated pin pricks on a blanket of impenetrable cosmic blackness. The vegetation along the road looked like an undulating mass of living shadows. “Thanks again,” said the hitch-hiker. The trucker nodded. “You’re welcome again. Glad to have some company.” “I bet this job can get boring sometimes, huh?” The trucker shrugged. “You get used to it.” Then the engine whined and the wheels sputtered. The cab vibrated and the trucker whispered an irritated curse. “I’m not a mechanic, but that doesn’

The Screeching

It was the first and last time I went out with Tim Aubeck. I like to think that I was a good kid in high school, and he had a reputation for cruising the gravel roads half drunk, only stopping to grab another beer from the cooler. I went because Paul, my best friend at the time, told me I needed to get out more. We were supposed to just cruise the town. That’s what Aubeck said. We ended up hanging out with Fortner, who lived in a trailer on a farm six miles from the nearest highway. Fortner was a year older than us, a college dropout turned tractor mechanic. He had wood panelled walls, a flat screen TV, and a hound dog. Oh yeah, and a lot of beer. I had three beers, which was the most I’d ever had at one time. To be honest, I don’t like beer. I know I’m supposed to, being a guy–a guy with a beard, nonetheless–but I just don’t. Anyway, we were drinking and talking and a few hours into it Aubeck said he had to take a piss. I went with him because I had to go, too, having just drank thirt

Faded Away

If anyone is reading this, I can honestly say that I’d be surprised. Not surprised that someone was reading this, but surprised that my words managed to reach someone. It would mean that in some way, I’m still here, and I still exist. It’s the only thing that I want. It started years ago; before I was aware of it. I faded away, and I’m not sure if I’m really still here, and the world is ignoring me, or if I really don’t exist anymore. I want someone, at least one person, to know my story, and I’m scared that it’s too late for me. Like I said, it started happening years ago, before I was even aware of it. When I entered my sophomore year of high school (I’m in my late 20’s now), I had friends. I was happy. People knew who I was, and even though I was exhausted from all the after-school trips to the mall, I was grateful that I had people to talk to. Up until that point in my life, I didn’t have a lot of friends, and seemed to just blend into the background. In junior year, p