Creepypasta thread

[JustAnotherJoe]

For better efficiency, this thread is made and dedicated to all things creepy and pasta.

[Hippo]

I have 2.
When I was a child my family moved to a big old two-floor house, with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening when I came home the house was still dark. I called out, "Mum?" and heard her sing song voice say "Yeeeeees?" from upstairs. I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in, and again got the same "Yeeeeees?" reply. We were decorating at the time, and I didn't know my way around the maze of rooms but she was in one of the far ones, right down the hall. I felt uneasy, but I figured that was only natural so I rushed forward to see my mum, knowing that her presence would calm my fears, as a mother's presence always does. Just as I reached for the handle of the door to let myself in to the room I heard the front door downstairs open and my mother call "Sweetie, are you home?" in a cheery voice. I jumped back, startled and ran down the stairs to her, but as I glanced back from the top of the stairs, the door to the room slowly opened a crack. For a brief moment, I saw something strange in there, and I don't know what it was, but it was staring at me.

And the second.
One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until after school. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.
His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.
He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.
She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "No." He was devastated.
When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "No." It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.
The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said "No." He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.
Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when suddenly he got hit by a car. He was dead with the picture in his hand.
The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. Suddenly he saw the picture and picked it up.
He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.

[Tyler]

There's already an (old) thread for this, but anyway,

Solipsism

Ever heard of a philosophical movement known as solipsism? Basically, according to the solipsist, only he exists. Since his only mind is the only thing he knows to be truly real, nothing else is.

Actually, the logic follows quite nicely. If the senses are our only means of processing information, and the senses are ultimately unreliable, then everything in your head must be - and is the only - reality.

And that's where the unsettling implications start to come in. That thing under the bed, in the attic, that your parents told you is "all in your head?" Well, your parents are also "all in your head." Your sight, your only source of reasoning, so reassuring when you turn the lights on and gasp in relief when you see that nothing's there? All in your head.

The thing in the attic, however, is another story. You've never seen it, you've never heard it, you've never sensed it, but your body really wants your mind to believe that it's not there.

[Hippo]

Another yay!

A Mother's Love
One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.
The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn't stay with the doubt on his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as on her arms. They then decide to stop and see if they could be of any help.
The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a new born baby, were still inside the car which was in a deep ditch. She told them that the husband was already dead but that her baby seemed to still be alive.
The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside the their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn't pay any attention to it and took out the baby quickly and got up to take the baby to it's mother. When he got up, he didn't see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman followed him back to the crashed car.
When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom was unmistakeably the woman who had flagged them down.

[Duck]

I know too many creepypastas

And whoever posted the one about it being in your head, that one is amazing.

Mirrors can easily be a frightening instrument. Our imaginations sometimes convince us that there’s more to a reflection than we can possibly comprehend, potentially dark and evil things that can never be stopped. Sure, science can support their theories of light reflection increasingly well, but even the direct, factual truth can’t keep our minds from wondering. Not even repeatedly-proven evidence can keep us from THINKING. That is the truth many of us will never escape from: imaginations are unstoppable.
Perhaps the most popular belief relating to our doppelgangers is their independency. Some believe them to be a separate “being” living within a different universe, completely devoid of your bathroom or bedroom you frequent as a viewing window into their world. We all live in fear of the day that they arrive at the same conclusion and become equally as fascinated with us. All we could really do then is silently pray with them not to realize that we’ve continually stared back.

Some individuals milk these beliefs for entertainment purposes. Popular culture has spread the curiously frightening belief of Bloody Mary showing her face in our bathroom mirrors upon the lights’ absence, yet a small few of us can honestly admit to having tried this ritual; even fewer of those venturers wish to speak of their experience. Reflective surfaces are imaginatively known to act as a portal of sorts into otherworldly territory, where our greatest fears and unwanted beliefs come true, brought to life by their own will. Beyond those eyes of ours is a much darker land, one where anything and everything we wish away from existence does everything in its power to live.
Some individuals study the behavior of mirrors and their reflections. Generally, the results prove unimpressive or deceptively obvious, yet a few vague experiments tend to go awry in mysterious ways. One of the more common studies is the placement of two mirrors in opposing positions, thus creating an infinite exchange of similarly repetitive reflections. Unfortunately, this raises a greater number of questions than answers. As stated previously, reflections are thought to be more than a simple refraction of light. What could come of allowing contact between universes within our homes? How could this practically simple method of “cloning” ourselves prove dangerous? What possible misfortune could befall an individual who unknowingly carries out these mistakes?
Positioning yourself between the opposite-facing mirrors introduces an additional variable to this equation: you. You will then see infinite copies of “yourself,” each one alternating their position. Several of them look away, but the remainders face back at you, returning your stare. As far as we can see, and even further beyond that, we know that our gaze is being returned by another reflection. What we don’t know, since we can’t see where infinity ends, is how it is being returned.
A simple glance at all of those reflections can be enough to convince anyone: not all of them could be you…could they? Just look deeper into their eyes.
Notice how as they get further and further away, they appear to change…
Soon you’ll reach the one at the very end, the final one you can see.
Try to convince yourself it isn’t glaring back at you.
Only it knows for sure.


--

Moving to a new place was a big thing for me. 3 hours away from home, 3 hours away from the town I loved, the house I grew up in and the ex boyfriend who had been the thing to drive me away. In a way I was looking to escape.
New start, new life, new me, that was what I decided when I moved away.
It was going well within 6 months I was doing really well at my job, I’d even started dating this new guy, Paul, who was everything my ex hadn’t been man enough to be. He was polite and kind and loving but with just the right amount of “I’m a man”. Things were going so well that I didn’t even really realize when things started to go wrong. At the time I’d just assumed the things that were happening were small coincidences, just little problems that happen every now and again, it wasn’t until I looked back on it that I realized that it was all building up to something big. Something that has left me half the woman I once was.
It started off just small things, like I’d be certain that I’d left the book I’d been reading on my bedside table but when I found it it was next to the bath, the picture of me and my mum that I had always had on my fireplace had somehow fallen and smashed, food that I had left in the fridge would be gone when I went to look for it. As I lived alone I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. At first I thought I was just being careless, then as more and more things happened I started thinking that something wasn’t quite right, I was so certain that I had turned the tv off before I went to work and that I’d left my favorite necklace in my jewelery box. I called Paul up one day after work and asked him to come over and help me look around for signs of a break in. He kindly obliged even though he thought I was overreacting.
“Babe, I know you usually have it all together but sometimes people make mistakes, sometimes we just forget things.” he told me to try and placate me. I knew he was right but something just didn’t feel right about the situation.
He stayed with me for nearly a week but as we’d only been dating for a few months I didn’t really want him to get caught up in my potential “craziness” so when nothing happened for a week I told him I was ok and he could go home. He kindly told me if I needed anything to ring him at any time. I honestly hoped that I wouldn’t need to.
The night he left I stayed up watching TV. I was a little anxious but told myself that it was just an overreaction. I was so tired that I drifted off halfway through a film. I woke up at 4 in the morning with a blanket over me that hadn’t been there before. All the other odd things that had happened had been when I’d been out of the house, this freaked me out more than normal. I grabbed my phone of the side and rang Paul straight away. As it was ringing I realized maybe I’d got the blanket myself in my sleep, maybe that was the answer to everything. When Paul answered he sounded worried. I told him what had happened and what I thought it was and apologized for waking him up.
“It’s ok babe, I was awake anyway.”
Feeling slightly better I said goodnight and got myself into bed.
Two days later I was chilling after work just watching TV again. It was dark outside and I had all the curtains drawn. I couldn’t be certain but I thought I heard someone moving around outside. I tried to shrug it off, maybe it was a dog or a cat. It continued intermittently for half an hour, I had talked myself out of being scared until suddenly a loud bang on the window shook me to the core.
Phone in hand ready to ring Paul at a seconds notice I hurried to the front door to make sure it was locked. It was, I also made sure that all the windows were closed. I rang Paul, he was sweet about the situation and came straight over. The knock on the door startled me again but I realized that it was only him, he had gotten there quicker than I’d expected him to. He asked me for a torch and went around outside looking for anyone, he even shouted out a few times but there was nothing.
That night he stayed and held me while I slept.
In the morning I told him that maybe I’d overreacted again, it could have been a bird or something, anything. He was amazingly accepting of the whole situation, nearly every other guy I knew would have been long gone by then. When I came home from work that day I checked outside the window that had been banged, in the flower bed underneath I found my own watch.
That discovery really made me question everything that had been going on. What if this was all a figment of my imagination? I started to feel like I was going slightly crazy. I didn’t know what was really going on and that seemed as likely an explanation as anything else right then seeing as no one else had seen anything strange happen.
One night a few days later I was sat surfing the internet. It randomly cut out just as I was loading a Youtube clip. I waited, tried to reconnect, nothing. I went to look at the router downstairs, the plug was sat on the floor next to the socket. At that moment I knew that it wasn’t me, I had been surfing on the internet I couldn’t have done it. Then I realized, if it wasn’t me it must mean someone had been in the house. Maybe that they still were. I ran for my phone. I called Paul, he didn’t answer. After 3 calls I left him a message saying I was sorry but I’d be dropping by because weird things were happening again. I got in the car and left. I got to his house and found it odd because he wasn’t there. He hadn’t mentioned going out but then we didn’t tell each other everything so I just rang him again. This time he answered. He sounded short of breath and slightly panicked, essentially the way I was feeling. He told me he had gotten my message and was rushing back to meet me.
I asked him if I should call the police, he told me that I could but that they probably wouldn’t find anything that if there really was someone they would be long gone by now and why hadn’t they attacked me when they had the chance? It was strange logic to me but I was just happy to feel safe in his arms to I let it slide. He said he would come back with me the next day to check it out.
That night as he lay snoring softly next to me, I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking way too much when an odd thought hit me. The other day when I’d asked him to come over Paul had gotten to me in half the time it usually took which must mean he’d been nearby, he had access to my house, my belongings, even to my keys and spare key, he’d been out somewhere undisclosed when someone had been in my house, he had discouraged me from ringing the police… what if I was lying next to the man who had been doing this all to me? I couldn’t stand that thought but the more I lay there the more it made sense. I crept out of bed and started silently looking through his cupboards and drawers to see if there was anything. There was nothing until I opened up his desk drawer. My necklace, my most prized piece of jewelery sat amongst the random wires and letter.
I reeled backwards. But, but why would he do this? What is he gaining from this? Power, I guessed, it’s all about power. He wasn’t so different from my ex after all. I wondered if I should confront him about it but realized if I was right what would he do if he knew I’d figured him out? I couldn’t stand the thought of being there any longer.
Not thinking straight I left. I drove the long way home, I needed to think but was thinking so much that I could hardly concentrate on the road. How I made it home in one piece I will never know.
The phone call in the morning was one I’d been expecting but still didn’t know how to answer. He asked me why I’d left. I told him that I couldn’t sleep and just needed to get out and think but once I’d left I couldn’t get back in. He didn’t seem convinced but let it slide. He asked if I wanted him to check out the house. I told him no, that I was ok. I didn’t tell him I’d arranged for the locks to be changed that day, or that I now had a deadbolt on the door.
For the next week I essentially cut myself off from society. I called in sick to work and stopped taking calls from Paul. He left me messages saying how worried he was about me. He came over but I ignored the knocks. I finally rang him and told him I’d gone home for a while to sort some things out. I couldn’t leave the house for fear that he might break in some how and do something else. I barely slept for the same reason. By now I couldn’t even call the police, I was sure they would think me crazy as I couldn’t prove anything.
I woke up one night after a fitful sleep. I heard banging on the door. I gripped the kitchen knife that I carried with me at all times, I pressed my back against the wall.
I was sure he was coming. I was certain that he was going to break in. It went quiet after a while. No more sounds that night, but save for a few seconds every now and again, I didn’t sleep that night. When the sun rose so did I. I got out of bed to make myself more coffee. I stopped dead on my way through the living room.
“Why don’t you want me in your life?!”
Letters 3 feet tall scrawled across the wall. I dropped to the floor sobbing. He had been inside the house. I checked the door, there were no signs of entry, I didn’t understand how he’d done it.
I called the police, I told them everything that had happened. I told them about Paul. I told them how scared I was. They took a statement, they looked around and saw no signs of forced entry either, in fact no way into the house at all save for a tiny bathroom window downstairs that I couldn’t remember if I’d locked or not.
They left me, told me they would talk to Paul. I locked the door after them.
That night I stayed awake again. Sat in bed with my back against the wall with my knife in hand; I didn’t even need coffee to keep me awake any more. More banging that night. I couldn’t’ bring myself to check what it was. The banging was louder as if it was closer, it went on for longer too. In the morning there was a new message. Just underneath the old one, the handwriting more untidy, as if it was rushed, as if someone was angry.
“Why won’t you just let me in?!”
My breath caught in my chest. I called the police again. Again they came, took more photos, another statement. They left an officer outside.
Prisoner in my own house but at least now I felt safer. I went about my day more normally than in weeks. When the night came I fell asleep for the first time in days after first triple checking the police car was outside.
I woke up in the morning, fresher than ever. I walked downstairs ready to offer the policeman a coffee when I stumbled across a sight I’ll never forget. This new message was written over the other two, in bigger letters. The paint was still dripping and this time was deep red.
“I got in”
I ran to the police car and faltered, he wasn’t in the car. I called the police and they came immediately, I was too scared to go back into the house and stood shaking on the lawn. Within minutes they had called for backup and soon my house was flooded with policemen. Two guys wheeled out a gurney that was covered in a sheet. I didn’t need to ask to know that it was the policeman.
I was taken to the station where they gave me tea and wrapped me in a blanket. When they tried to take a statement from me I found I couldn’t speak. I was screaming at them with my eyes that it was Paul, that they needed to stop him from doing it again, doing it to me, but they couldn’t understand me. The Dr decided I was in shock and prescribed me some pills. The police decided to keep me in one of the cells overnight due to the death happening on my property. They came in a while later to tell me they couldn’t find Paul, his car was missing and his house was empty. I was glad that I was in the station that night, I felt safer. I slept a fitful sleep broken with nightmares of being captured by an unseen figure, I knew it was Paul.
I woke in the morning to find a Dr in my room. He was explaining something to me, I couldn’t really take it in. There was something about “sleep” and “multiple” and “dangerous”. I suddenly realized I wasn’t in the cell I’d fallen asleep in. This one was brighter, whiter, and I couldn’t move.
Apparently writing all this is supposed to be cathartic, at least that’s what my psychiatrist tells me. I’ve just found it tedious.

--

I'll post my favourite creepypasta if I can find it

[Hippo]

Ducks favourite. He can't be bothered to post it.

Red eyes.

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. She explained that it was a storeroom, and that it was out of bounds. She reminded him of this several times before allowing him upstairs. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. However the insistence of the woman had piqued his curiosity, so the next night 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 incredibly pale. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while, was this a celebrity? The owners daughter? He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. As he was still looking, the woman turned sharply and he jumped back from the door, hoping she would not suspect he had been spying on her. 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. He felt embarrassed that he had made the woman so uncomfortable, and hoped she had not made a complaint with the woman on the front desk.
At this point he decided to consult her for more information. After some gentle quizzing and the promise that the explanation would go no further than him she finally said "Well, I might as well tell you the story of what happened in that room. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in there, we find that even now, people get uncomfortable staying there. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."

[Qwertygiy]

Here's one:

On one night, in the outskirts of a small town, about a hundred miles from the nearest big city, a couple was driving through a valley between small hills late at night when their car got a flat tire. The husband got out to put on the spare. As he changed the wheel, the wife noticed an odd sound in the distance. As the husband put the jack back in the trunk, she heard a loud whistle and saw a light coming over one of the hills, and realized the noise was a fast train headed for the bridge that spanned the valley a little ways off.
As they climbed into the car and started the motor, they watched the train head over the bridge -- and then gasped in horror as the train buckled and curved over the edge. They heard the scream of the passengers as the train hit the rocks, and saw the bright burst of fire as the smokestack from the old-fashioned steam engine exploded. The wife immediately got out and headed towards the tracks, grabbing her purse with the first-aid kit in it, while the husband started up the car and drove as fast as he could towards the small town, having no cell phone.
The wife caught up with the conductor, who had been at the rear of the train and managed to stumble away from the flaming wreck. "It's useless," he said. "The whole thing's ablaze. I only got away because the caboose got flung away from the rocks." The wife stared in horror at the burning train and bridge, and the conductor in his bloody and torn uniform. It was clear that there was nothing a fire brigade or paramedic squad could do here, much less a puny little first aid kit.

Half an hour later the husband arrived in the town. He rushed to the police station, which was nearly deserted. There was only one officer at the desk, whom he rushed up to and yelled, "A train's gone over the bridge a few miles up the road!" The officer immediately called the fire department of the next town over, as this town did not have one. "Is this supposed to be a prank call?" asked the Chief. "That bridge has been out for exactly a hundred years, after an express train shot over it at midnight and burned the whole thing down."

When the husband and the police officer returned to the scene, there was no trace of the bridge or the train except some ancient charred rocks. The only thing unusual about the scene was an ancient skeleton, holding a rusted box. The officer examined it; it was a woman's, looking about a century old -- definitely a victim of the crash. Then the husband gasped in horror. On the rusted box was clearly a red cross and his and his wife's name.

[Tyler]

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 it's 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 to 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 inbetween 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 it's 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, "Whats 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 it's 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, thing fingers. It was wailing now, staring into me with it's huge black eyes, and I only 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 raveled 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 somtimes. 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 it's 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 atleast 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 atleast 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 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 it's 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.

[DSiDewd]

This one is incredibly creepy.

One time, a guy was doing stuff. Suddenly a face ate him. When his wife saw and told the police, the police got there and they FOUND A GUY EATING A FACE. The police said that THE GUY WAS EATING THE FACE, THE FACE WASNT EATING HIM! And then the wife was all like WHAAAAAAAAAT

The end. c:

[Brassrhino]

Tyler, that scared the MY LITTLE PONY out of me. (The One with the "I wish I had never gotten out of the car.")