Post Your Creepy Stories! (You Don't Sleep You Lose?)

Once upon a time, there was a barnacle so ugly, everyone died. The end.Denjin_hadouken

One time I walked into my parents room to get some hangers for my mom.When I was getting them out of the corner of my eye I saw a little girl standing on the other side of the bed,I left and now im scared of my parents room.

Wolf-avatar

seriously?? *cough cough*

Once i had a dream about having my hair red... Fele7

That scared the hizzle outta me. o.o

I also like stories about insanity... and people who've become insane but haven't realized it yet... everything that can be true is creepy.

My Girlfriend's Eyes

It was her eyes that first attracted me to her. I didn't believe in love, but the first time I gazed into her beautiful green eyes I knew she was the one.

I loved seeing myself reflected in those eyes, looking deep into her soul and knowing I was a part of it. It's kinda stupid, but I even wrote poetry about them. I don't remember much, but I told her "There's so much life within your eyes, and so
much love".

Oh God, I loved the way the light danced within them. I just couldn't imagine not being able to stare dreamily into them.

Now if I could just find a box that was half as beautiful as her eyes, I could stop carrying them round in my pocket.

I don't know if any of you have ever heard of the Saratoga ghost light. When I was younger I was told this story about a railroad being constructed in the town of Saratoga(about 30 minutes away from where I lived). The story says that one of the workers got murdered and decapitated and now he wanders around with a lantern at night, looking for his head. Easy story to create.

Well, last year, I finally went to see the light and to my utter surprise, it was there. And it swayed back and forth, and it grew larger and faded away.

As we walked toward it, it would grow and fade. Eventually, we had walked about a mile down the dirt road, and we didn't see it any longer. Then we turned around and it was on the other side of us. Quite creepy, to be honest.

Up until that point, though, I felt calmed by its presence. Well, that's my brush with the unexplained.

One theory says that it's swamp gas, but the light stayed white when I saw it, and as I said, it swung back and forth. It was really neat.

Wiki Article

This one time... i was alll like... :shock:, and my friend was all like :shock:.... but then we were like :P, and from there on out it was :lol:

the moral of the story is... i don't have any creepy stories.

americahellyeah

And that you both were really high.

BUMP TO THE MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAX!

Grrr stop bumping guys! LOL

_

Where are more stories? I can't find more.. Fresh, Yummy Creepypasta is rare ;)

"Yesterday, a friend of mine called me. It was a John, an old buddy from high school. I hadn't spoken with him for years, and we started to reminisce about all the crap we pulled in high school. A few days later I decided to call him back, and see if we could get together, maybe go fishing or something.

We talked on the phone for a while, and I said to him "Hey, maybe we should get together sometime." He first said that that was a bad idea, but then he agreed. I asked him for address, copied it down, and told him I'd see him in the morning.

The next morning I arrived at the place he said he lived at. There was nothing but rubble there. It looked like there had been a fire there years ago, but nothing got cleaned up, and the plants never regrew. In the middle of the rubble, I found a old rotary ****telephone on the floor, not connected to anything. Hurridly, I pulled out my cellphone and called his number.

The telephone on the floor rang.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

I dropped my cellphone in shock, and knelt to grab the rotary telephone. A voice, drenched in distortion and hiss, said:

"I told you this was a bad idea."

:o

Before I relate just what that thing was, let me take you back 242 years in time and 3,600 miles away in space to the days of the early settlers in Detroit, Michigan. In June 1763, British Captain James Dalyell and 58 of his officers were followed near the banks of Detroit River by a small, misshapen crimson-clad figure with penetrating eyes, a large fanged mouth, and a hideous scarlet face.

Several soldiers shot at the weird looking figure. An old trapper warned Captain Dalyell and his men that they were being stalked by what the French settlers called the "Nain Rouge"- the Red Gnome – a sinister supernatural entity whose appearance foretold misfortune and death.

Sure enough, shortly after seeing the crimson dwarf, Captain Dalyell and his soldiers were ambushed and massacred by the Indian Chief, Pontiac, and the blood of the slain turned the tributary of the Detroit River red for days.

Decades earlier, the founder of Detroit, Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, was also unlucky enough to see the Red Gnome, and soon lost his vast fortune and political standing. The diminutive omen of impending misfortune and death was seen again in 1801, shortly before the wooden city of Detroit was destroyed by a fire. Then, in the War of 1812, the Nain Rouge was seen prowling about in a fog by many witnesses, including General William Hull, who was forced to hand over Detroit to the British troops days later.

Around the end of 1857, there was a rumor that two hunters had killed the Red Gnome in a forest. They had shot him several times and fixed him to a tree with their bayonets to prevent his escape, and the body had been exhibited and packed in salt.

The superstitious people of the colony arranged for the monstrosity to be burnt, for there was a widespread fear it would return to life, and a bonfire was built in a clearing, but someone approached the men who had killed the strange creature, and purchased it for an undisclosed sum.

A collector of oddities in Liverpool, England, arranged for the Red Gnome's cadaver to be shipped to the home of warehouse keeper Michael Connolly, at 25 Clarence Street, Everton. The Black Hawk brig brought the curious cargo to Liverpool Docks, and the small cask was delivered – to the wrong Clarence Street. There were three streets of that name in the city at the time, and instead of going to Everton, it was delivered to the home of Abraham Harris, a jeweler living at 25 Clarence Street in the city center. A servant signed for the cask, and Mr. Harris was horrified when he saw the grotesque little man, pickled in brine in the barrel. The cask was stored in the cellar, and in the evening when the jeweler went down to show a colleague the terrifying corpse – they found the barrel empty and its lid lying on the floor. The evil-looking creature was never seen again.

A month and a half later and still going, great thread TC Half-Life_man

You know, I thought it was good and dead, but no! It keeps on living. I've created a monster!

In December, 1932, a down and out Hungarian named Reszo Seress was trying to make a living as a songwriter in Paris, but kept failing miserably. All of his compositions failed to impress the music publishers of France, but Seress carried on chasing his dream nevertheless. He was determined to become an internationally famous songwriter. His girlfriend had constant rows with him over the insecurity of his ambitious life. She urged him to get a full-time 9 to 5 job, but Seress was uncompromising. He told her he was to be a songwriter or a hobo, and that was that.

One afternoon, things finally came to a head. Seress and his fiancée had a fierce row over his utter failure as a composer, and the couple parted with angry words. On the day after the row - which happened to be a Sunday - Seress sat at the piano in his apartment, gazing morosely through the window at the Parisian skyline. Outside, storm-clouds gathered in the grey sky, and soon the heavy rain began to pelt down. "What a gloomy Sunday" Seress said to himself as he played about on the piano's ivories, and quite suddenly, his hands began to play a strange melancholy melody that seemed to encapsulate the downhearted way he was feeling over his quarrel with his girl and the state of the dispiriting weather. Reszo Seress "Yes, Gloomy Sunday! That will be the title of my new song" muttered Seress, excitedly, and he grabbed a pencil and wrote the notes down on an old postcard. Thirty minutes later he had completed the song.

Seress sent his composition off to a music publisher and waited for acceptance with a lot more hope than he usually had in his heart. A few days later, the song-sheet was returned with a rejection note stapled to it that stated: "Gloomy Sunday has a weird but highly depressing melody and rhythm, and we are sorry to say that we cannot use it." The song was sent off again to another publisher, and this time it was accepted. The music publisher told Seress that his song would soon be distributed to all the major cities of the world. The young Hungarian was ecstatic.

But a few months after Gloomy Sunday was printed, there were a spate of strange occurrences that were allegedly sparked off by the new song. In Berlin, a young man requested a band to play Gloomy Sunday, and after the number was performed, the man went home and blasted himself in the head with a revolver after complaining to relatives that he felt severely depressed by the melody of a new song which he couldn't get out of his head. That song was Gloomy Sunday. A week later in the same city, a young female shop assistant was found hanging from a rope in her flat. Police who investigated the suicide found a copy of the sheet-music to Gloomy Sunday in the dead girl's bedroom.

Two days after that tragedy, a young secretary in New York gassed herself, and in a suicide note she requested Gloomy Sunday to be played at her funeral. Weeks later, another New Yorker, aged 82, jumped to his death from the window of his seventh-story apartment after playing the 'deadly' song on his piano. Around the same time, a teenager in Rome who had heard the unlucky tune jumped off a bridge to his death. The newspapers of the world were quick to report other deaths associated with Seress' song. One newspaper covered the case of a woman in North London who had been playing a 78 recording of Gloomy Sunday at full volume, infuriating and frightening her neighbors, who had read of the fatalities supposedly caused by the tune. The stylus finally became trapped in a groove, and the same piece of the song played over and over. The neighbors hammered on the woman's door but there was no answer, so they forced the door open - only to find the woman dead in her chair from an overdose of barbiturates.

As the months went by, a steady stream of bizarre and disturbing deaths that were alleged to be connected to Gloomy Sunday persuaded the chiefs at the BBC to ban the seemingly accursed song from the airwaves. Back in France, Rizzo Seress, the man who had composed the controversial song, was also to experience the adverse effects of his creation. He wrote to his ex-fiancée, pleading for a reconciliation. But several days later came the most awful, shocking news. Seress learned from the police that his sweetheart had poisoned herself. And by her side, a copy of the sheet music to Gloomy Sunday was found.

At the end of the 1930s, when the world was plunged into the war against Hitler Seress' inauspicious song was quickly forgotten in the global turmoil, but the sheet-music to the dreaded song is still available (on the Net too) to those who are curious to know if the morbid melody can still exert its deadly influence...

One day, I fell from the stairs, true story!DreamW8er

That was a sure fire candidate for best creepy story..

This morning I stepped out of the shower and this bathroom was fine: white walls, white tiles, sink and counter with toothpaste crusted all over. Three out of the four lightbulbs over the mirror were still good - 100 watt, clear bulb, blinding bright in the small white room. Like always I was late, so I skipped shaving. She liked it when I didn't shave, anyway. I was thinking about doing mutton chops. She'd get a kick out of that. I passed the mirror and noticed I was grinning. I didn't even know I was grinning.

I'm in the bathroom tonight before bed and there's something wrong with the lights. All three are on again but they glow kind of brown and don't really light up the rest of the room. I should get more bulbs from the kitchen. I should, but I'm busy. The date was **** and she shut her apartment door on me. You'd think that would wipe off the stupid grin from this morning. But I came back in the bathroom and, in the mirror, my face was still doing it. If I touch my face it doesn't feel like a grin, but there it is in the mirror.

In the brown light it's hard to make out but - have you ever actually counted how many teeth show when you smile? I lean in close. One, two, three, four - I didn't know my mouth was so wide. Nine, ten, eleven - I can't do mutton chops after all. The corners of my lips are out to my ears. It still doesn't feel like a grin. But keep counting, for curiousity. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

^^ It must stay alive! :cry:

This could be a great thread, if everyone paricipated. I'll try to get the ball rolling...

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.

This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn't make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."

Fortier

holy...that story creeped the hell right outta me...

This morning I stepped out of the shower and this bathroom was fine: white walls, white tiles, sink and counter with toothpaste crusted all over. Three out of the four lightbulbs over the mirror were still good - 100 watt, clear bulb, blinding bright in the small white room. Like always I was late, so I skipped shaving. She liked it when I didn't shave, anyway. I was thinking about doing mutton chops. She'd get a kick out of that. I passed the mirror and noticed I was grinning. I didn't even know I was grinning.

I'm in the bathroom tonight before bed and there's something wrong with the lights. All three are on again but they glow kind of brown and don't really light up the rest of the room. I should get more bulbs from the kitchen. I should, but I'm busy. The date was **** and she shut her apartment door on me. You'd think that would wipe off the stupid grin from this morning. But I came back in the bathroom and, in the mirror, my face was still doing it. If I touch my face it doesn't feel like a grin, but there it is in the mirror.

In the brown light it's hard to make out but - have you ever actually counted how many teeth show when you smile? I lean in close. One, two, three, four - I didn't know my mouth was so wide. Nine, ten, eleven - I can't do mutton chops after all. The corners of my lips are out to my ears. It still doesn't feel like a grin. But keep counting, for curiousity. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

super_mario_128

That story is wuite strange.. I believe that that's not a true story..?

[QUOTE="super_mario_128"]

This morning I stepped out of the shower and this bathroom was fine: white walls, white tiles, sink and counter with toothpaste crusted all over. Three out of the four lightbulbs over the mirror were still good - 100 watt, clear bulb, blinding bright in the small white room. Like always I was late, so I skipped shaving. She liked it when I didn't shave, anyway. I was thinking about doing mutton chops. She'd get a kick out of that. I passed the mirror and noticed I was grinning. I didn't even know I was grinning.

I'm in the bathroom tonight before bed and there's something wrong with the lights. All three are on again but they glow kind of brown and don't really light up the rest of the room. I should get more bulbs from the kitchen. I should, but I'm busy. The date was **** and she shut her apartment door on me. You'd think that would wipe off the stupid grin from this morning. But I came back in the bathroom and, in the mirror, my face was still doing it. If I touch my face it doesn't feel like a grin, but there it is in the mirror.

In the brown light it's hard to make out but - have you ever actually counted how many teeth show when you smile? I lean in close. One, two, three, four - I didn't know my mouth was so wide. Nine, ten, eleven - I can't do mutton chops after all. The corners of my lips are out to my ears. It still doesn't feel like a grin. But keep counting, for curiousity. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

Purplex777

That story is wuite strange.. I believe that that's not a true story..?

Sinbad will get a new Tv show!

:shock:

Oh wait, I said that already...

[QUOTE="Purplex777"][QUOTE="super_mario_128"]

This morning I stepped out of the shower and this bathroom was fine: white walls, white tiles, sink and counter with toothpaste crusted all over. Three out of the four lightbulbs over the mirror were still good - 100 watt, clear bulb, blinding bright in the small white room. Like always I was late, so I skipped shaving. She liked it when I didn't shave, anyway. I was thinking about doing mutton chops. She'd get a kick out of that. I passed the mirror and noticed I was grinning. I didn't even know I was grinning.

I'm in the bathroom tonight before bed and there's something wrong with the lights. All three are on again but they glow kind of brown and don't really light up the rest of the room. I should get more bulbs from the kitchen. I should, but I'm busy. The date was **** and she shut her apartment door on me. You'd think that would wipe off the stupid grin from this morning. But I came back in the bathroom and, in the mirror, my face was still doing it. If I touch my face it doesn't feel like a grin, but there it is in the mirror.

In the brown light it's hard to make out but - have you ever actually counted how many teeth show when you smile? I lean in close. One, two, three, four - I didn't know my mouth was so wide. Nine, ten, eleven - I can't do mutton chops after all. The corners of my lips are out to my ears. It still doesn't feel like a grin. But keep counting, for curiousity. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

RabidChocobo1

That story is wuite strange.. I believe that that's not a true story..?

Exactly.. and BTW, I meant Quite.. not Quite :P sorry!!

Ok well one time I remember going to the restroom to take a whiz. So I walk up to the toilet and start doing my business when the lights go out and I saw two red eyes at eye level staring right at me. I freaked out and ran out of the restroom with my wang hanging out. And today I was sitting in my room alone and I started hearing these voices coming from the closet. It sounded like static at first but later I could pick out some words. So I open my closet and theres nothing there. Not very scary but strange no doubt.newman12-18

That sure is creepy.. maybe because it's true!!

Well, You're room is haunted IMO. lol just kidding :P It might be something else.. don't worry(?)

i got a great one

Britney Spears Will visit you And STAY FOREVER

Then This Happens http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16heorrfsgY

...bumpMikeV54

god Thinks You Suck lol

i got a great one

Britney Spears Will visit you And STAY FOREVER

Then This Happens http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16heorrfsgY

Darkblyth

I literally, can't sleep anymore... O_O