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Too Much Hype? Creepypasta: Bedtime

Bedtime is a great story about childhood paranoia.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

The best thing about this story is that the author acknowledges that there would have been logical reasoning to his experiences, that it very well wasn’t the creature that he dealt with every night.  It makes the experience much more believable.  Even if the creature wasn’t real, the author’s terror and witnessing absolutely was.  It could easily be chalked down to a poor child’s severe fear of the dark, and just how strongly the mind can fool you when you’re afraid.

I didn’t much like the ending, as the parents reacting to the room so negatively justifies the notion that something actual was in there, and I think it would have been more interesting to push the idea that it was in the author’s head, rather than something real.  That’s just personal preference, though.

All in all 4/5, it’s a good story.

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Popular Creepypasta - Too Much Hype?

I am going to be doing a series of brief reviews of all of the “Popular Creepypasta” listed on the official Creepypasta website.

I have a special love for creepypasta (and /nosleep but we’ll get to that another time), but some of the most popular ones *coughjeffthekillercough* are total shit from the quality of storyline to basic story-writing skills.

Want to know which ones are truly awesome and which are too hyped?  Keep checking in and find out!

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This House Has People In It

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

You have not understood the level of utter terror this video can bring until you delve as deeply as possible into it and find every tiny piece they’ve hidden.  

Look up a video on YouTube for all of the hidden stuff if you can’t figure it out yourself, but you have to look at it, it’s terrifying and I invested HOURS looking into all of this shit.  This House Has People In It has given me countless nightmares and a fear of being alone in a room.

Check it out and piss yourself, it’s too good.

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I’ve been re-reading 1999, and even though it isn’t the best creepypasta out there (and is possibly one of the most cliche), I still love it to death. ♥

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Unedited Footage of a Bear

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

This is the less disturbing out of my two favorite Adult Swim videos, but it’s still incredibly interesting (and has a super bad ass song in it).

To get the most out of it, I highly recommend checking out the website it mentions in the video.  It’s interactive and makes it all a little bit creepy.

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Ma no Kakera (Fragments of Horror)

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

Junji Ito is a genius, and Ma no Kakera (Fragments of Horror) made me love him even more.

A lot of people are familiar with Junji Ito’s Enigma of Amigara Fault, but I think this series is like ten times better and creepier (not dissing Amigara Fault, it’s still genius).  As far as I’m aware, the source I linked for it is the only place you can actually read it for free online.

Each chapter is its own separate story, about 30 pages each.  They’re all basically very creepy stories revolving around be trapped with untrustworthy/toxic people (using that theme loosely).

They’re all SUPER creepy, and a must-read for anyone that likes Amigara Fault (or anything of Junji Ito’s in general).

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NoSleep Series: The Suicide Tapes [Review]

This was nothing what I expected it to be and I’m disappointed that I finished all of the parts.

I’m hoping to GOD that demons_dance_alone is going to churn out more parts to this series, even though the last one seemed conclusive.

It’s nothing like the cliche creepypasta/nosleep tape stories.  The tapes don’t even have too much to do with the subject matter the author discusses.  Like they’re related, but they don’t delve much into it and it works better that way.

I couldn’t stop reading, it’s the first good NoSleep I’ve read in a while.  It didn’t feel cliche like I expected.  Not in any form.

My boyfriend says he can tell when he likes a movie/book/etc. when he hates the ending.  In this case, I can actually relate to that.  I want to know everything that wasn’t covered.  I want to see Heather discover everything and react realistically like she had throughout the entire story.

I love this one.  This story is a winner, 10/10 would recommend.  This is probably one I’ll even reread, and that’s REALLY saying something.

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NoSleep Series: The Suicide Tapes [First Impression]

The Suicide Tapes is a (thus far) five part series written by demons_dance_alone.

I just read the first part, and before I read the rest I wanted to write out what I initially think and see if it follows through.

I’m eager in the sense that I wasn’t bored reading it, which happens too easily for me with anything horror related (really not getting on my high horse--I’m picky as hell with my taste in horror, and it sucks).  I loved the fact that it was short and sweet.  I think it’s smart to make a first part brief, no matter the series.  I hope the next few parts start to stretch out and give more detail, as the story is probably going to be sub-par without decent pace and imagery.  (Stress on the pace part.  Rushed stories are the worst.)

It’s a cliche plot line, to be honest.  It’s the predictable “hey I found these tapes and found something on them I didn’t expect!  I need your guys’ help!”  Still, I reviewed a tape-themed series (Dad’s Tapes), and I actually did like it.  Admittedly, I never finished it... But I’ll live in ignorant bliss and tell myself the ending is just as well (and bitch on here for an eternity if I find out it isn’t). Plus, I loved the creepypasta 1999, which broke both of my previously mentioned no-no’s--cliche plotline (this case being “creepy kid show gets creepier,” if you’ve never read it), and a lengthy first part to a series (I don’t know if it was originally meant to be a series?  I’m assuming it was, due to the loose threads before the first update.  Regardless, updates = parts, in my book).  Hopefully, this series will be just as good (although probably not as good... Seriously, 1999 is the shit).

I’m hoping whatever mysterious entity the author refers to doesn’t immediately become something unbelievably fictional.  That’s mostly what I do not want.  Please, God, don’t let them butcher a good concept.

I’m going to go ahead and read the other parts, and hope for the best.

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THIS IS SO GOOD

SATELLITE IMAGES

—–

A friend of mine showed me how to use Google Maps. I’m sure you’ve seen it. It lets you use satellite images to look at locations all over the world. A few years ago, I was in a car accident.

Since then, I really don’t leave the house that often. It’s difficult, and the idea of a seeing a car drive by me makes me feel lightheaded. I was fascinated by the fact that I could see all over the world, almost like being there. I could virtually walk down the streets, and it almost felt like I was really there.

I became instantly hooked. It gave me a real eye on the world. I could go to almost any major city, and I did. I’d seen streets in China, Japan, Germany, England… so many places. I’d even gone to tourist attractions like the Great Barrier Reef and Dracula’s castle.

My favorite was to go to random places in major cities and see how many people and animals I could find. The faces of the people were always blurred to protect their privacy, but it was still enjoyable to see them out there, enjoying their life, walking like it was no big deal.

“She must have good taste,” I laughed.

I zoomed in closer and noticed the grey bag she carried on a grey and purple shoulder strap. She was walking in a relaxed manner, one hand trailing the wall beside her. I bet if I could have seen her face, I would see that she was smiling. I began to feel a little sad. I let my hands fall onto the arms of my wheelchair and looked at her for a minute more. I wished that I could be there, walking so carefree with her. That wouldn’t happen though, until I died. I was stuck in this chair.

I sighed and zoomed out of Tokyo. Enough of this for tonight. I turned off the computer and went to bed.

—

I got up early and decided to look around Paris. Paris was always fun. I liked the look of the city, with all of the old, beautiful buildings and so many people to watch. I randomly zoomed to an area and saw a street lined with old brick buildings, a few small shops, and an old tan brick church. Ahead was an intersection, and dozens of people walked by. A balding business man walked quickly past, looking back at an old woman, hair covered with a scarf, carrying a large purse. A curvy woman in black pants that were too tight stared into a store window, and two women led a group of small children around a corner.

I spun the view around a few more times, and then saw something peculiar. Sitting on the bench at the bus-stop were two people. One of them was a young woman with her feet stuck in front of her in a relaxed manner. She was wearing a pair of red sneakers, like my own. I was startled for a moment as I noticed the black pants, white t-shirt, and black hooded jacket. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely behind her head. A grey bag sat on the bench beside her, the shoulder strap hooked over her shoulder.

“This is crazy,” I thought. “It can’t possibly be the same woman. This is a different country, different continent even. How could it be her?”

This was stupid. It wasn’t as if these were live photographs. They were taken ahead of time and then stored. It’s not like she was in two places at once. She could just be a traveler. Besides, without seeing her face, it was impossible to tell it was the same person. Brown hair was probably the most common hair color in the world. Those red sneakers were something I purchased online. I’m sure a million other people did too. I shook my head and went to fix some lunch.

When I got back online, I decided to look at Berlin. I picked a random street, as usual. It looked pretty empty. There were brick buildings lining the streets, looking more like factories than anything else. There were also empty lots, full of long grass and piled gravel. There wasn’t much to see at all, really. There was a line of motorbikes and a car with two German flags sticking up from it. After more searching, I found one kid. He looked like he was dressed for school, a jacket thrown over his bag. He was intently looking at some kind of mobile device. I was disappointed. I started to leave, but then I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I turned the view, and there they were. Those damned red sneakers.

She was standing on a street corner, next to some kind of sign post. She had a hand on the post, looking down the street, as if waiting to cross the street. I stared in shock. How could she be there too? Even if she was traveling, there’s no way I would find her every time. Even finding her in Paris would have been one heck of a coincidence, but this? This was crazy. Was this some kind of joke? Had Google decided to play a prank on its users that used their product so much? It would have been a great joke…

I did a quick search, looking for a note about a woman that shows up like Waldo. There was nothing. I looked through articles on strange things you can see on Google Maps, but none of them mentioned the woman that travels the world with you. This was crazy. Had my self-imposed isolation driven me mad? Had I become so lonely that I created a hallucination for myself?

Leaving the Berlin image on my screen, I sent a text message to a friend, asking him to look at the locations. I asked him if he saw the same woman. Then I waited, hands sweating, heart thumping in my chest. I jumped when my phone beeped with a return text message ten minutes later. The text read, “I see the lady you’re talking about in Berlin. I didn’t see her in Paris or Tokyo. Is this some kind of game, or what? Are you okay?”

I didn’t respond, instead returning to the locations in Tokyo and Paris. There she was. She was there, but it was different. She no longer sat on the bus-stop bench, in Paris. She was standing in front of it, looking for something in her bag. In Tokyo, she was blocks away, squatting down to pet that calico cat. I shivered. Who was she? What was happening?

I switched the map to Brussels. It was another city street. It was lined with old looking buildings, with shops on the ground level, and what I guessed was apartments above. I quickly scanned the streets. They were empty, other than a stocky woman in a bright blue sweater. I did a second sweep. She wasn’t there. I sighed in relief. I couldn’t believe I was getting so worked up about this.

It was nothing but a coinci– I stopped, my eyes frozen on the screen. There was a building at the point of a fork in the road, white with a black-ironwork-framed balcony jutting from the second floor. I hadn’t seen her, as I had been looking at the sidewalks. There she stood, standing on the balcony, her head tilted in the direction of the camera, almost like she was coyly looking toward me. My breath caught in my throat.

I switched to Sydney. She was leaning against the wall, inside the doorway of a bright blue Carricks Pharmacy building. London showed her getting ready to step onto a red double-decker bus, her head turned to look over her shoulder. She was everywhere I looked. She stood on a brick sidewalk on a bridge in Venice, she walked across a yellow barred crosswalk in Zurich, and in Hong Kong, she stood between a Wing Lung Bank and a McDonald’s adjusting the strap on her bag. In each picture, she came closer and closer to looking directly at me with her blurred out face.

My heart felt like a terrified bird, slamming around inside my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t call the police. Should I send screenshots to Google?

I clenched my fists tightly and closed my eyes. Who was she? Was she following me? Was I following her? I wish I could see the expression on her face, know what she saw when she looked back at me. I wanted to get out of the chair and run. Why is it that the only thing that made me feel free again was the thing that made me feel even more trapped? I had to know.

I typed in the name of my town and zoomed into a random street. It was a couple of miles from my house; the gates to the city park were shown in the clarity of daylight, despite it being night here. There she was. There… There she was. She was only a few miles from my house, standing under the ironwork arch that stated the name of the park. She looked directly at the camera, directly at me. I felt like I might throw up. She was near me, and she was watching me. She was coming for me. What did she want?

I typed in the name of the apartment complex where I live. I could see the outside of the building. The parking lot was full of cars, and there were a few blurred out children on the playground. I searched everywhere for her. She wasn’t in the parking lot or on the sidewalks, not hiding between the buildings or standing in the playground. I even scanned each of the cars, behind the bushes, and each of the blurred windows. She wasn’t there. I curled tightly around myself and lay my head down on the desk.

This place was safe. I didn’t leave the apartment anyway. I would never use Google Maps again. I would never see her again. She could stay at the park for all I cared. I smiled to myself and was surprised to find a tear slipping down my face.

“I’m safe,” I said to myself in a whisper. It felt good to hear it out loud. “I’m safe.”

As I said it, there was a knock at the door. A chill ran down my spine. I had a camera hooked to my computer that showed who was at the front door, which made it easier for me, with my mobility issues. I slowly reached for the control to show myself who was outside, but my hand trembled furiously. As I touched the control, I realized my mistake. The last of Google’s images that I’d seen had only shown the outside of the building. Just the outside.

I looked at the screen and saw a woman in a white t-shirt, black pants, and black hooded jacket and carrying a grey bag with a purple and grey striped shoulder strap. Of course, there were those red sneakers. She looked directly at the camera, her face still a complete blur. As I tried to stifle a scream, she raised a hand and knocked loudly on my front door.

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To the Kind Folks at WebMD

March 22, 2016 7:15 am

I tried to snip off my uvula an hour or two ago. I read online that problems with my uvula can be why I snore so bad and I didn’t want to make my girlfriend deal with it. She doesn’t want to sleep over anymore and I’ve got no insurance and can’t afford the doctor to get it fixed.

Anyway, I tried to cut it off but it’s still hanging by a thread and I don’t know whether or not I should cut it or leave it. It hurts a lot but I think the bleeding stopped for the most part. Let me know.

March 22, 2016 8:19 am

Hi guys, I haven’t heard anything back yet so I did some more research and it seems like the upper palate can be a problem with snoring too? I don’t want to do anything major yet just because I want to be careful, so just reply back when you can ok?

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Ted The Caver

Ted the Caver is one of the best scary stories I’ve read.

Ted the Caver is thrilling and convincing scary story about a guy (Ted, obviously) who explores a mysterious cave.  Credibility is even added with use of pictures.  It’s totally believable, and unnerving.

It’s written out in a type of blog format, and you can find the start of it here.

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My wife and I discovered the terrifying truth behind the birds’ nests on our property.

Shanice and I are lucky enough to live in an area replete with wildlife. Every morning, when we’re sitting at the porch table having coffee or simply looking out our kitchen window, deer, foxes, squirrels, groundhogs, chipmunks, or other local fauna appear in our large backyard. Having property near a national park has its perks.

While Shanice is enamored with all things furry and adorable, or “totes adorbs,” which she squeals just to watch me cringe, I’ve grown to love birds. Don’t get me wrong - I’m also quite fond of the “totes adorbs” variety of animals. Our cat, Meowsers, totes exemplifies adorbs. Still, something about birds relaxes me in a way I find difficult to describe. We have such a magnificent diversity of the flying creatures that even after five years of living here, I think I see a new kind every week.

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I bought this not long ago, it's next on my list!

Transfigurations: My First Book

Transfigurations, by Max Aaron

Transfigurations is my first self-published book. It contains a collection of stories I’ve shared on both Reddit and Tumblr, all of which contain a particular theme: people desperate for change.

From Amazon: Transfigurations is a collection of short horror stories about people desperate for change. A young woman is obsessed with losing weight. A man is plagued by the sensation of his teeth screaming. A boy is convinced that the vague shapes floating in his eyes demand that he hurt himself. All the stories in Transfigurations feature people who will do anything to make the changes they believe will better their lives - consequences be damned.

The following stories are featured: My Wife, the Artist, Ouroboros, Malcolm, Under My Teeth, My Constellation, Fertility Treatments, Comfort Food, Teeny-Tiny, and Licks From a Bear.

These stories have elicited strong feelings ranging from fear to disgust to sympathy.

Sixpenceeestories.com user “Kenns” on Under My Teeth: “Oh wow, this was horrifying in its own unique way. I was glued to the screen, but constantly wanting to turn away as just reading this story made my teeth ache and my skin crawl. Very well done!”

Reddit user “Missnarcia” on Teeny-Tiny: “As an recovering anorexic.. I must say that this is the first eating disorder “horror” scenario that really gets to me. You’ve managed to write a realistic story that clearly covers all the huge ways a body can be destroyed by an eating disorder. Believe it or not.. but I’m going to save this story and read back when I’m not feeling so strong about recovery. Thank you.”

Reddit user “Cow_Launcher” on Fertility Treatments: “Beautifully written, and a twist that I honestly didn’t see coming. Really well done.”

All these stories (and many more) are available on this blog for free. However, for all of you who’ve asked for a shiny, Kindle-optimized version of stories sharing a common theme, it’s finally here.

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what

the

fuck

I always worried my strange habit would keep people away from me.

I’ve always been self-conscious about my thumb sucking problem. And it is a problem. Most kids either grow out of it or have the habit gently coaxed away by attentive parents or counselors. My upbringing was different, though. I never grew out of it. I never saw my parents for more than a couple hours every week. They’d be so busy with work that the only people I’d see on a regular basis were the servants and housekeepers. God knows they weren’t going to correct the habits of their employer’s only son. The heir to the family fortune.

Maybe if I had friends or family members around, I would’ve matured normally. That opportunity is long gone, though. I think my habit is a plea for security; having no real comfort or warmth in my life probably leads me to engage in such an infantile practice. I’m 20 - way too old to be doing something as immature as thumb sucking, but here I am. I never expected anything to change for the better.

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Amy’s Wish

When Amy was four, I taught her the eyelash game. You know the one. Find an eyelash, close your eyes, make a wish, take a deeeeeeeep breath, and blow it into the air. “If you’re lucky,” I told her, “your wish will come true.” Amy considered it for a moment, then announced it was a stupid game. I laughed and asked her not to say “stupid” anymore. I remember being glad she didn’t think Santa and the Easter Bunny were stupid. That would’ve been a problem.

Right around Amy’s 7th birthday, she got a very special present: a new baby brother named Michael. Amy adored Michael from day one. She’d always ask to hold him, which we allowed once we were sure she’d be gentle. She was. Michael was fond of his sister and if Dawn or I couldn’t get him to stop crying, we’d put him in Amy’s arms and he’d calm right down. Needless to say, we were grateful.

When Michael was a year old, he developed a high fever. We rushed him to the emergency room where they successfully brought down his temperature, but something else was wrong. Tests revealed the worst possible scenario: leukemia. He’d have to begin treatments as soon as possible.

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I found a diary while I was out hiking in New Hampshire. I have to admit, I’m thoroughly creeped out by what was written inside.

The diary was from a while ago; 21 years, according to the dates. It was sealed really well in plastic wrap and stuffed in a watertight bag. It I hadn’t hit the thing with my shovel when digging a hole to take a dump, I never would’ve found it. I wish that would’ve been the case because I can’t stop thinking about the stuff I read. I’m only going to share the fucked up parts, but all I’m leaving out is the lady talking about how she and her husband were spending the month camping and having a good time. There, I just saved you 5 pages. Here’s where it got weird:

————————————————————-

7/2/1994, 7:00am

Last night, James and I got woken up by a ridiculously bright flash of lightning. There was no thunder, either. James said it must’ve been heat lightning. He’s probably right because it was disgustingly hot and muggy all day and once the sun went down it got even more humid. We eventually got back to sleep and this morning the air seems a little less like a wet sponge. We’re hoping to do 12 miles today.

7/2/1994, 8:00pm

I don’t even want to write this down because it’s so gross. James asked that I do it anyway so we’ll remember to report what we saw once we get to a ranger station. Like I could forget something like this. Anyway, here: all day, while we walked, we saw animals. Deer, birds, raccoons, squirrels, chipmunks, and a black bear. That’s pretty par for the course out here. But when we went off the path for a little bit because, well, James was staring at my ass for the last hour while we walked and I guess he got some ideas, we were stopped by the sight of something awful about a hundred feet off the path. Well, many somethings. Strewn across a wide area that I estimated to be a couple thousand feet were miscarried animals. They were all at different stages of development. It was horrible.

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