CreepyPastas

[Bubbles]

AM CREEPED OUT GUYZ

CAN ANYBODY COME OVER PLS?

[Uzumaki Minato]

A young woman returns to her car from a day's shopping. She had parked her car in the town's multi-story car park.

As she approaches the car she notices someone sitting in the back seat. She cautiously checks the registration plate to see if it is indeed her car, as it is a popular model and color. The car is indeed hers, and as she gets closer she sees that it's an old woman sitting in the back seat.

 

She asks the woman how and why she is sitting in her car.

The old woman replies that she had been shopping with her son and family but felt unwell and returned to the car to rest. She obviously had mistaken the young woman's car for her son's, as it was the same model and color. The old woman then asks to be driven to a hospital, as she is still feeling unwell. The young woman agrees.

 

As she gets into the driver's seat something makes her very nervous about the situation and she asks the old woman if she is feeling well enough to direct her as she reverses the car out of the parking place. The old woman agrees, gets out of the car and proceeds to direct the reversing maneuver.

 

As soon as the young woman has the car out of the parking space she speeds out of the car park, leaving the old woman stranded. She then drives straight to the nearest police station and reports the incident.

 

A police officer then searched the car and found an axe concealed under the driver's seat.

The young woman had had a lucky escape!

[Monsieur Frog]

This story is why i will never go to arazona.......

For her birthday I took my girl, Katie, to Arizona so we could stay with some friends of hers and spend a few weeks partying and getting crazy and stuff before heading back to school for the year.

We drove up in my Dad's car. It's a really old Ford make, and it's pretty beat up. The road there was bumpy and long. Our relationship seemed at its strongest on the road. We were really in love. That was the first time I realized that. I had never truly been in love before.

We were about half the way there when we realized we were going to run out of gas long before the nearest petrol pump. Katie's head was out of the window, sunglasses on in the blistering heat outside. Nothing but the wild desert landscape to be seen in all directions. We became frantic. We hadn't seen another car on the road in almost an hour. What if we broke down here, in the middle of the desert, with no food or water, with no one out there to find us. I sped up slightly, driven by these fears.

It was then that we came across the Gas Station. Smack bang in the middle of nowhere, in dry, empty nowhere. It was an old worn down servo. Long, yellow grass blew in the breeze beneath it. Outside were two rusted gas pumps. At first we didn't know if it was occupied - it seemed so lifeless. But as we pulled up and saw the petrol stains in the dirt we were convinced otherwise. Katie started refilling the car and I went inside to pay, and grab something to eat on the road.

When I first went to open the door, it jammed. This perturbed me, so I looked up at the sign to check, and was reassured that the store was "OPEN", according to the torn sign that hung in between the dull yellow curtains at the door window. I pushed harder and harder with effort, got into the shop.

Inside it was totally abandoned, and left to ruin. Complete isles lay on the ground, the fridges were smashed and glass coated on the floor. Despite the brightness outside, the interior of the Gas Station was dark and bitterly cold. Then there came, from behind me, this quiet weeping, like a child's. I felt my heart race. It was coming from the back room.

I stepped over the smashed glass and twisted metal remnants on the floor, over where the patches of grass had grown through. I ran my hand along the wall an felt the criss cross of ivy beneath my fingers. It was overgrown.

There came the crying again, and now I was facing the back room door. It was directly infront of me. I pushed the door open, and it creaked with rust in its joints. Inside there lay several wooden steps into the basement. It was pitch black, and the smell was horrific. The drip drop of water alerted me to the fact the basement was flooded - the water was up to my knees. Again, there came the crying, and a small splash in the far corner of the basement.

"Hello?" I called out, "Is anyone there?"

I started approaching the corner. The smell was horrible, and cold water eventually got to me. The sobbing was getting louder. In the corner I swore I saw something move amongst the shadows.

"Hello?" I called again, "What's wrong?"

I finally reached the corner. Still dark, I had to bend down to avoid the pipes, which leaked down my back and trickled down my spine. The figure infront of me was very small and black. Hunched over, sobbing quietly, head in its hands.

"Why are you down here?" I whispered.

Then, it stopped moving completely. It was totally still. All noise seemed to cease, but for the quiet dripping of a broken pipe somewhere behind me.

I outstretched my arm to touch it's tiny shoulder, but it then began to slowly turn in my direction, to look me eye to eye.

As it's face swiveled around to look into mine I remember screaming, and swinging my head up in recoil, cracking it on the pipes up above. The face was white as a sheet, pale like a hideous, moving mask. The eyes and mouth were completely black holes, huge and widening even as I looked at them. They were so huge, they almost consumed it's entire face. As I desperately tried to escape, it splashed towards me at rapid speed, uncurling it's long, thin fingers. It was wailing now, staring into me with its huge black eyes, and as I scrabbled up the stairs with great difficulty, as I felt my legs begin to give way beneath me.

It sprinted out of the water and up the stairs towards me. I slammed the door, flipped the lock and tore out of the store, into the old Ford. Katie began to laugh when she saw me, jeans wet, trembling with sweat soaking my chest, but I grabbed her and screamed at her to drive. For about a half an hour I could barely tell her what happened in the store. She listened and gave me a look of sheer horror, when I finally gave in and told her everything. She pulled the car to the side of the road and began to cry herself. I asked her what was wrong.

She said, "I saw something while you were gone. When you were in the store, I was just putting the pump back when I saw this little girl, and a man, her father I guess. the father stared at me with blank eyes and a hanging jaw. But the girl, oh god, the girl.. She was staring straight at me, grinning with this huge smile that just strecthed so far across her face. I couldn't see any hair on her, and her skin was so dark. Not dark, like a colored girl, but dark like a shadow. And her smile just shone through the window. I convinced myself it was a trick of the eye and looked away. when I looked back they were gone. Then a little while later, you came back out."

It was dusk by now. We had nowhere to stay. We had not traveled nearly as much as we hoped to that day and the nearest motel meant going back past the gas station. So we just drove up from the roadside where we were, into the clearing a little way up, where people camped sometimes. We had obviously come the night after a big party - there was broken glass everywhere. When we arrived, however, it was empty. After awhile I tried to reassure her that we were okay. I calmed her down, put my arms around her and we started to kiss. I moved to get closer to her when she suddenly screamed like hell itself.

"IT'S HER! IT'S HER!!!!" she screeched, fumbling to start up the engine. I turned in time to witness a small black face, grinning literally ear to ear with only darkness inside. It was crawling into the car through my open window, with its limbs splayed out like an insect. It had too many limbs. Way too many long arms. The fingers feeling my face like antennae. We sped off, back down onto the road.

Back on the road, nothing seemed right. There were no stars.

That was what I noticed first. I was too shaken to think much of it, but there were no clouds that could be blotting them out. There was just the vast night sky, devoid of all light. Then, a few minutes after we had been driving forward, still sweating and breathing heavy, we passed the gas station. My heart skipped a beat. The gas station was at least a half an hour away, in the opposite direction. All the lights were on, and I saw the door sliding open. As we shot past it Katie was in such hysterics she found it hard to keep driving. We stopped the car, in the middle of the desolate road. I decided we should switch seats, so that I could drive. She shuffled across from her seat to mine, and I opened the door to get out. As soon as I was outside the foul stench of the basement overwhelmed me. I gagged, then vomited down the side of the car. It was then I noticed the runner. A pale white thing, sprinting torwards us through the fog, it's limbs practically a blur. I could make out no face. How long had it been following us? Running after us in the night?!

I got into the driver seat as quickly as possible. We drove off again, not talking. Katie whimpered and I silently prayed. Then we got passed the gas station again. The door was open now. There were two figures standing at the door. Waiting.

As we forced ourselves on, we both became aware of a soft, barely audible weeping in the back seats. Neither of us dared turn around.

"Ignore it", I whispered, my trembling hands gripped the steering wheel.

Katie was curled in the fetal position, holding her head in her hands. The wailing increased, becoming extremely loud, ear piercing and horrific. Finally I ordered myself to end it, and looked behind me.

For a split second, I thought it was a girl, in a white dress looking back up at me. But she was gone as soon as she had appeared. I checked the seats carefully, there was nothing. In my tiredness and fear I had completely lost track of the road.

I drove on, and all through the night Katie whimpered. I touched her once but she screamed. I never tried again after that. The noises from the back seat started up again. We passed the gas station twice more. The people at the door were closer and clearer every time.

The finest slither of red light had begun to settle on the horizon, it was still dark as hell, but at least I was able to see the road ahead of me now. Katie had been silent, face concealed under her hands for some times. I decided to check the time, so I turned on the radio. At first there was only static. Instead of time, or anything at all, the digital clock simply appeared black. I fiddled with the dial, trying to change the station. In between the static I found only one audible channel. It had a high pitched buzz in the background. (Writer's note: UVB-76?!??!?!) A man was muttering names and numbers under his breath.

"29. Lucy -

30. Adam-

31. Katie -"

I switched back to static. I knew which name was next.

When we got to Katie's friend's house, it was morning. It was overcast and everywhere had the smell of rain on it. Her friends weren't home. Katie's friends lived way out in the country, with no one else around in a mile. The grass was climbing the walls outside. How long have they been out?

As soon as were inside, Katie started whimpering again. I realized that while she had been silent she was biting on her lip - Blood was trickling down her chin and the skin around her mouth was torn and chewed through. She grabbed the newspaper, and some masking tape off the table and began blocking out the windows. After the nights events I didn't know whether I would be insane to join her or stop her. I simply watched. She covered the windows, jammed the door and turned the lights off. For some time, it could have been minutes or hours, we sit silent in the dark. I offered to turn the television on. Katie said nothing, sitting blank and comatose. I turned the television on anyway.

A grainy, black and white image flickered to life before us. A white face with empty eyes and an impossibly huge smile flashed up, the smile growing wider and wider the longer we stared into it. There came the sound of weeping. From the television, or in the house? I couldn't tell.. We turned off the TV.

It's been three whole days now. I haven't seen Katie at all today. She spends her time in the closet, crying. I once tore the door open and screamed at her. She screamed back, her face contorting into something grotesque, and inhuman. I slammed it in her face. The phone rings, often. A voice, my mother's I believe, whispering under its breath. I can only catch snippets of what it says.

"Come back.. You're always welcome to come back..."

Sometimes in the background I hear quiet chuckling.

I hang up without saying a thing, usually. The bathroom is shining white, I hear the shower running, and will walk in to find nothing. Nothing at all.

Then, when I'm in the bathroom I will hear the television flick back on.

It always goes to the face. In the background there are muttering voices now. I've called the police. Twice. All I get is the whispering woman's voice. I called Katie's friends too, just as fruitlessly. There are knocks at the door a lot now. Through the newspaper, on the other side of the window I see their hands slam against the glass and slide down. They do this for hours on end sometimes. They press their eyes up to the glass, through the holes in the newspaper... At night we hear screaming from the guest room. I boarded it up. Sometimes I find tiny pieces of glass on the ground. A leak sprang up about a day ago in my room downstairs. Black spots of mold have appeared on the walls. There is a small throughout the house, seeping in from my room. The odor of decay.

I pray. I pray hopelessly, and I wish, I swear to god, I wish... That I had never gotten out of that car.

Ok Yall would Yall prefer Yalls Creepypastas in video or in story.

I love living in Arizona.. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa

[Kachiriku]

Jeff The Killer is the best creepy pasta in my opinion.

[Jahmah]

O fuck, I'm not helping hitch hikers ever again.

[Kachiriku]

BEN

[Gary Oak]

[Katoku]

Meh, Didnt wanna sleep tonight anyways

[Katoku]

WTF GARY OKE NOT COOL!

[Toshio]

[Jahmah]

Love that Meme.

[Katoku]

My personal favorite

 

Symmetry:

I love symmetry. I’m not sure exactly why, but I’ve loved it since I was a kid. Most children are messy and forgetful of their things. Not me. I knew everything had its place and in my room, everything was right where it belonged. My parents didn’t have "it". My grandparents didn’t have "it" either. Not a single person in my family had “it”. I’ve started referring to it as “it” because I truly believe it’s a thing inside me. A stowaway that shouldn't be there but lives inside me. It’s a need. A desire. A longing to be perfect. Perfect on both sides. As an adult, I’m at the point where I can’t live my life normally. I can’t keep a job. Women don’t stay with me because they can’t handle "it". Honestly, I don’t even care when they leave. They’re messy and make things difficult. They roll over to my side of the bed instead of staying on their own. They leave dishes in one side of the sink but not the other. I can’t work anymore so when they leave for the day, I have to stay home and fix everything. It’s a relief when they leave for good. That feeling never lasts though, eventually "it" comes back and finds something else that needs fixing. You may be asking, why would I seek out relationships to begin with if I can’t stand them? Well, it’s hard for me to sleep in the middle of the bed all night without moving.

Other than the relationship problem, my life is pretty much in order. I say “pretty much” because there is one last issue that must be dealt with. You see, I have what’s called “Heterochromia Iridium”, or two different colored irises. My right eye was cornflower blue, my left pale green. Both my parents have cornflower blue eyes, my siblings and cousins as well. My green eye is the broken one. It makes me... unbalanced. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, it stares right back at me. It’s all I think about now. Everything is in its right place - except my green little mistake. It didn’t hurt at first when I dug the spoon under my eye. It didn’t even hurt when it popped out and was hanging by my cheek. Was it shock that was keeping the pain away or was it "it"? I snipped the optic nerve and blotted the warm fluids that were streaming down my face. My vision being cut in half was a strange sensation. What was left of the dangling flesh, I placed back in the now empty hole. I bandaged the wound, rinsed the spoon, and went to sleep.

I woke up...happy. I slept better than I had in years. It was finally done. I was fixed. I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. My body ached and my head was on fire. I flipped the switch in the bathroom and the light was blinding. I slowly removed the bandage that was soaked with blood and was sticking to my face like tape. When I looked up to the mirror, my stomach turned. Only then had I realized what I’d done to myself and I couldn't believe it. There was a hole in the left side of my face...but not the right. I was unbalanced. Again. It was much harder digging out the second eye. My hands were shaky and when I dug the spoon in, I missed several times, puncturing my pupil three times before I got the it in the right place. Once the eye popped out, I reached for my scissors to finish the job. The blood from the previous night had dried on the blades, so the scissors didn’t cut very well. You know when you were a kid in elementary school and your teacher made you cut construction paper for art projects? Did you ever try to cut too many pieces at once, but the scissors couldn't take it? The blades would kind of fold over each other and the paper would get pinned between them? That’s what happened with my eye. The optic nerve was pinned between the two blades. It was stuck and as I tried desperately and frantically to make it unstuck, I slipped on the blood and started falling to the floor. Reflexes kicked in and I let go of my eye to try to break my fall with my hand. The weight of the stuck scissors on my hanging eye was unbearable. I knew I couldn’t stand it long enough to make it to the kitchen to get a knife. So I pulled. I pulled it straight out of my head. I felt the flesh tear from inside my skull. I felt it rip and spew liquids everywhere. I knew I was crying but there was no telling the tears from the blood from the ocular fluid. When I heard the wet slap of bloody flesh against the tile floor, I knew I was done. I knew "it" was done. I could live my life now without having to see peoples awful, messy, uneven lives. The relief washed over me and I knew it would last this time. I had never felt this way before, never had this much hope. As I laid in my bathroom on that cold, wet, sticky tile, I smiled for the first time in years.

[Unanimus]

 

My personal favorite

 

Symmetry:

I love symmetry. I’m not sure exactly why, but I’ve loved it since I was a kid. Most children are messy and forgetful of their things. Not me. I knew everything had its place and in my room, everything was right where it belonged. My parents didn’t have "it". My grandparents didn’t have "it" either. Not a single person in my family had “it”. I’ve started referring to it as “it” because I truly believe it’s a thing inside me. A stowaway that shouldn't be there but lives inside me. It’s a need. A desire. A longing to be perfect. Perfect on both sides. As an adult, I’m at the point where I can’t live my life normally. I can’t keep a job. Women don’t stay with me because they can’t handle "it". Honestly, I don’t even care when they leave. They’re messy and make things difficult. They roll over to my side of the bed instead of staying on their own. They leave dishes in one side of the sink but not the other. I can’t work anymore so when they leave for the day, I have to stay home and fix everything. It’s a relief when they leave for good. That feeling never lasts though, eventually "it" comes back and finds something else that needs fixing. You may be asking, why would I seek out relationships to begin with if I can’t stand them? Well, it’s hard for me to sleep in the middle of the bed all night without moving.

Other than the relationship problem, my life is pretty much in order. I say “pretty much” because there is one last issue that must be dealt with. You see, I have what’s called “Heterochromia Iridium”, or two different colored irises. My right eye was cornflower blue, my left pale green. Both my parents have cornflower blue eyes, my siblings and cousins as well. My green eye is the broken one. It makes me... unbalanced. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, it stares right back at me. It’s all I think about now. Everything is in its right place - except my green little mistake. It didn’t hurt at first when I dug the spoon under my eye. It didn’t even hurt when it popped out and was hanging by my cheek. Was it shock that was keeping the pain away or was it "it"? I snipped the optic nerve and blotted the warm fluids that were streaming down my face. My vision being cut in half was a strange sensation. What was left of the dangling flesh, I placed back in the now empty hole. I bandaged the wound, rinsed the spoon, and went to sleep.

I woke up...happy. I slept better than I had in years. It was finally done. I was fixed. I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. My body ached and my head was on fire. I flipped the switch in the bathroom and the light was blinding. I slowly removed the bandage that was soaked with blood and was sticking to my face like tape. When I looked up to the mirror, my stomach turned. Only then had I realized what I’d done to myself and I couldn't believe it. There was a hole in the left side of my face...but not the right. I was unbalanced. Again. It was much harder digging out the second eye. My hands were shaky and when I dug the spoon in, I missed several times, puncturing my pupil three times before I got the it in the right place. Once the eye popped out, I reached for my scissors to finish the job. The blood from the previous night had dried on the blades, so the scissors didn’t cut very well. You know when you were a kid in elementary school and your teacher made you cut construction paper for art projects? Did you ever try to cut too many pieces at once, but the scissors couldn't take it? The blades would kind of fold over each other and the paper would get pinned between them? That’s what happened with my eye. The optic nerve was pinned between the two blades. It was stuck and as I tried desperately and frantically to make it unstuck, I slipped on the blood and started falling to the floor. Reflexes kicked in and I let go of my eye to try to break my fall with my hand. The weight of the stuck scissors on my hanging eye was unbearable. I knew I couldn’t stand it long enough to make it to the kitchen to get a knife. So I pulled. I pulled it straight out of my head. I felt the flesh tear from inside my skull. I felt it rip and spew liquids everywhere. I knew I was crying but there was no telling the tears from the blood from the ocular fluid. When I heard the wet slap of bloody flesh against the tile floor, I knew I was done. I knew "it" was done. I could live my life now without having to see peoples awful, messy, uneven lives. The relief washed over me and I knew it would last this time. I had never felt this way before, never had this much hope. As I laid in my bathroom on that cold, wet, sticky tile, I smiled for the first time in years.

 

 

I wonder if I am the only person on these entire forums who genuinely considered this creepy-pasta beautiful and artistic, rather than scary.

[Gary Oak]

I wonder if I am the only person on these entire forums who genuinely considered this creepy-pasta beautiful and artistic, rather than scary. read this all the way through, from start to finish.

 

 

Fixed.*

[Jugg]

BEN