For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…

September 18, 2014
by derpbutt
1 Comment

Comments Undergoing Upgrade

Just a quick note to let you guys know that no, you aren’t crazy, the comments will probably be slowly changing appearance over the next day.

As there are over 30k comments on this site, it may take up to a full day before everything upgrades and settles, so please don’t panic if anything looks funky or glitchy in the comments section. Even if this totally goes wrong and we as a community decide we’d rather not use the new comment system, at worst we’d lose any comments made during the upgrade (but ONLY comments made during the upgrade).

At best, we’ll have a comment system that allows for me to actually appoint moderators for the comment sections, as well as a few other fun features (profile pages, notifications when people reply to your comment, etc and so forth). Sit tight and we’ll see how things work out!

I am working on some overall layout improvements as well, but those may take a bit more time as I’m still finishing up the last batch of submissions.

Thanks for your understanding!

September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

Foggy Nights at the Park

My hometown harbors lots of strange secrets, and sometimes they’re paranormal. Activities like these may never be explained, but a phenomenon I can explain is why the lights are on at Polliwog Park after hours. This supernatural happening all started on a foggy October night ten years ago when a young adult working the graveyard shift at a local convenience store decided to bike through the park as a shortcut home. The dense fog made the unaware commuter ride right into the murky pond. Sadly for him this man couldn’t swim and quickly drowned in the dark liquid.
Ten years later a young woman, about the same age as the drowned man, had become accustomed to evening walks because she enjoyed the tranquility of the twilight hours. As she walked into the park and passed the pond, an insidious evil was awoken somewhere at the bottom of the small lake. The woman stopped as she heard a faint dripping coming from a few paces behind her. She spun around and watched in horror as the skeleton of dead the man slowly crawled out of the gloomy water. The skull slowly turned up and soon the woman was face to face with the two empty eye sockets. She screamed as the sinister fiend threw her into the pond. Her life flashed before her eyes as the skeleton pushed her head below the surface. A city worker came by after he had heard the scream, but by the time he got there all he could see was the skull slowly submerging into the depths.
That man showed up on the back of a milk carton a few weeks later with caption “MISSING” above his head. When police investigated the scene they found clothing and id, but no body. They recommended that the city turn on the lights at night, because they thought people were losing their way in the fog and falling in the water.

Legend has it that the skeleton still roams the grounds of Polliwog Park on dark foggy nights, and that if anyone senses his presence they will share the same watery grave as the demon himself.
You may not care and may think you are safe, but that would be a grave mistake, for every Halloween the fiend leaves the park. He stalks children but not on the street because even on this demented holiday he wouldn’t blend in. His entrance to the world is through the drainpipe at the end of the pond. He lurks in the sewers and peeks through the drains, where he’ll grab kids’ legs and leave no remains.

Credit To – XDA_Unknown

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

The problem is you think you have time

“Our means of receiving impressions are absurdly few, and our notions of surrounding objects infinitely narrow. We see things only as we are constructed to see them, and can gain no idea of their absolute nature. With five feeble senses we pretend to comprehend the boundlessly complex cosmos..” – H.P. LovecraftEdit

When I finished reading the quote, I deliberated on wether or not I also felt the same. I’ve never quite been into the whole paranormal scene, and I definitely didn’t believe in any ghosts, apparitions, or demons of any sort. I am a very logical person you see; henceforth, I wouldn’t acknowledge such absurdities. I heard the grandfather clock, down long dark hallway to the left of my bedroom, sound off with the affirmation that it was exactly 11:00 p.m.

“Time for sleep.”

I thought whilst closing my laptop. I liked to research things until my bedtime. This time I had been researching through biographies, and other such material, on H.P. Lovecraft. I recently had found a fascination on the man and his writings, and like many other things that had tickled my fancy in the past, I wished to know more about it. I switched off my bedroom light, and settled in under the warm cozy covers of my king sized bed. My eyes began to slowly close and the world began to slowly fall away. It felt like it would only take a few moments before I…


I saw a very dim glow coming from outside my doorway. It must have been down the long hallway by the grandfather clock, or at least from what I could tell from the directions of the reflection on the wooden floor. I live in quite a large old house you see, my parents purchased it long ago. It’s one of those southern historic plantation houses, you know, the ones those vile slave owners inhabited back before the civil war. The house is located far off into the country, and I would say it may lie about 10 miles from the city. All of the floors within the house were wooden, and we had converted most of the lights and chandeliers into electric lights, still shaped like oil lamps and candles. My parents had passed away a few years prior, my mother to cancer, and my father to a heart attack. I lived here alone now, but I didn’t mind it at all because I loved the beauty and serenity of the place. Now that the history lesson is over, the reason why this glow alerted me, was because it was of either a lamp or a candle origin. It had a flicker to it and the softness of a flame burning.

“Well..”, I thought, “Maybe I should go investigate?”

I didn’t hear any noises coming from the hall, and the glimmer of the light didn’t seem to be growing any nearer. I slowly made my way from under the sheets and blanket as quietly as I could. I stretched my leg down to the floor and slowly raised myself to my feet. A sudden chill cascaded over me and washed a lump of fear into my chest. I longed to retreat to my covers back on the warm soft bed, but something began, without a will of my own, pulling me in the direction of the hallway. As I slowly tip toed my way to my bedroom door, the light then began to find its way towards me. My eyes grew wide, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as if it knew these were its last moments to do so. I approached the door frame and placed my head against the cold, chipped, white paint. Slowly I turned my head around the frame to peek into the hallway.

Alas! There she was.

A black, shredded dress hung across her body. She wore a black veil, and I could not, for the best of me, make out her face at all whatsoever. She held a brass lantern in her left hand and what looked like a silver pocket watch hanging through her fingers on a silver chain. Her skin was fair and conveyed the impression to be made of mist and porcelain, and It looked as though she were gliding about a half meter off of the floor. I was frozen to the spot. What could I even do anyway? Where could I hide? How on earth would I elude such a creature? Suddenly I began to hear a high pitched whisper coming from her, but the strange thing was, it didn’t sound as though it were coming from her mouth. The whisper sounded comparable to a disembodied voice which was rising, falling, and panning throughout the hallway drawing itself closer, then faint as though it were in another room within just a few seconds. She raised her right hand and began to slowly move her fingers to direct the index towards me. She gently drew closer to me with the whisper becoming louder and I began to understand the language it was speaking.

“The trouble is, you think you have time.”, it said.

She was one meter from me at this point. My bones were chilled to a degree I have never felt before in my life. Her veil then began to lift slowly upwards, and as it lifted I could begin to see her face. Long thin black lines cracked across her face as the light lain softly on her pale porcelain skin. Holes that seemed boundless and infinite were allotted to her eye sockets. Terror ripped through my entire being as she calmly bent her waist and edged her face towards mine. She kept a solemn look upon her broken face as her mouth began to expand beyond human capability. Fangs and sharp teeth two to four inches long protruded unevenly along her jaw. Suddenly I became calm as if this were supposed to happen.

In an instant, everything went black.

A faint silver glimmer skimmed across my vision. It must have been the pocket watch I thought.

Credit To – inurearms

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt
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The Paradox

I sometimes find myself lacking sanity.

Perhaps this is a cliche thing to believe. Perhaps it just comes with living. Perhaps it is just Karma getting me back for all of the things I’ve done. Perhaps, just perhaps, I really am insane. I first saw her while sitting at my window, staring out at the world. She was sitting on the sidewalk, her long hair matted and twisted into ringlets, her clothes in rags. She looked rugged and worn down, broken and tortured by the world. At her side there was a white five gallon bucket, and she had her arm around it, gripping it tightly as if it was her own life.

I found myself watching her, studying her movements. Occasionally, she would put her hand in the bucket, and then withdraw it ten minutes later. Every time she withdrew her hand, it was covered in a thick, grey substance. After a while of this, she stood up, ventured off, and returned with a long stick. She then began to stir, slowly, meticulously.

Why was she there? Why did she choose to stay there? I became overwhelmed with curiosity, and eventually I arose from my seat at the windowsill and made my way outside.

When I approached her, she did not look up. She did not make a move. She did not acknowledge my presence. Because of her obvious lack of interest, I spoke the first words. “What are you doing?”

She sat in silence for so long that I thought she would not answer. But then, quietly, after what felt like hours, she spoke in a soft, raspy voice, “Stirring concrete.”


“To disguise the head.”

I arched an eyebrow at her, curious. “The head?”

She nodded once, covering her already covered face with even more springy copper hair.

“What head?”

“The one in the bucket.”

Confused, but unwilling to continue asking questions that I was sure would not be answered, I took a deep breath and examined her. Her shirt was torn and tattered, hanging loosely on her skinny body. Her jeans were the same, and her feet were bare. She was covered in both new wounds, and had a thick layer of dirt and grime on her pale skin. “Are you homeless?” I inquired bluntly.


“When was the last time you ate?”

“When the trees were shining.”

Again I was stumped. What would I say to something so strange? “Um, would you like some food? You look hungry.”

The growl of her stomach answered for her.

“Come inside,” I glanced at her bucket warily and added, “You can leave your bucket here.” I did not know why I offered. I did not know what came over me, and why I felt the need to help this woman. It just felt like second nature. It felt like I was meant to do this strange and dangerous thing.

She stood, slowly, cautiously, and then followed me while shuffling her feet towards my home. Once we entered, I directed her to the couch and went into the kitchen to fix her something simple. When I returned with her food, she was sitting still, her shoulders slumped and her head hanging.

I set her food next to her and watched her as she ate. She was particular in how she ate, making sure that each bite contained the same amount of food. Despite the hunger that she obviously felt, she did not eat fast. She ate slowly and deliberately. After a while, I asked, “What’s your name?”

“I do not own my name.”

I sat back in my chair and stared at her in dumbfounded silence. She only got stranger with each and every word she spoke. On the television, a message that warned of a coming storm sounded, making my ears ring. As if to drama to the scene, lighting flashed in the window, hitting a tree in my front yard. I jumped to my feet, spooked by the boom that erupted and the flames that engulfed the leaves. “Shit!” I cursed, glancing at the girl sitting on my couch. “I have to go outside. Um,” I looked down the hall, to the bathroom and said, “Feel free to shower and get yourself cleaned up.” At that, I took off outside and began to panic when I saw the extent of the damage.

The tree was on fire, lighting up my yard with fantastic brightness. The neighbors were running out of their homes, hollering and waving their hands. One of them, a man about my age, was holding a white bucket full of water. He made his way to me hurriedly, and extinguished the majority of the flames. In my shock, I did not move, I only watched. I was frozen, paralyzed. I felt like my feet were glued to the ground, and after he was finished he turned to me. “What the hell are you doing?”

I swallowed, finding no words to respond.

“You’re just going to stand there while someone else keeps the neighborhood from burning down?”

Now that the flames were gone, people were returning to their houses, and no one was there to watch. No one cared if there was not a show.

“Are you listening to me?”

I looked him up and down, in a daze, my body feeling like solid rock. He had dark hair, and dark eyes. He looked like an angry, stern person. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the anger. I did not like the way he spoke, nor did I like the way he held himself. He needed to be silent. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, gazing at my own feet.

“You better be sorry, I have a bad back and I carried this damn thing out here to save your life.”

I nodded silently, deciding what I would do in the split seconds after that. “Here, come inside. I’ll cook you dinner. To thank you.”

His face was smug. He was clearly pleased that his heroic actions were being rewarded. “That’s more like it,” He then made his way into the house without my help.

I took a deep breath, flexing and unflexing my muscles. Counting. Feeling. Thinking. Calming. I let myself in, noticing that the man was sitting in the same place that the girl was previously sitting. I assumed that she had heeded my advice, and was pleased. I strolled into the kitchen, trying to keep my wits about me. Once I was out of view, I gripped the counter, my body tense and hard. My eyes drifted to the knives in the corner. They called me, beckoned me. I smiled. We spoke to each other in way that no one would ever understand. We loved each other. We were almost one in the same.

My smile widened when my hand rested on the hilt of my favorite. A long knife, with a razor sharp tip and a serrated edge. I gripped it tight and then slid it into the pocket of my hoody. When I walked back into the living room, I said, “Would you do me a favor?”

The man was still angry. Always so angry. Always. So hateful. “What?”

“I need wood for the fireplace. It’s in the back.”

“You’re asking your guest to go get wood?”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep calm and level. “It would be kind,”

He sneered up at me, his eyes hooded and cold. “I expect payment for that, too.”

I nodded once.

He stood up and sauntered outside, and once he was gone I found myself counting. With each sharp, shallow breath, I counted. After ten breaths, I stepped outside and kept myself close to the wall of my home. I was quiet, so very quiet. Silent, like a ghost. When I found him, his arms were full of wood, and his back faced me. I smiled.

Always so angry.

When the knife pierced his flesh, he spun to face me, throwing the wood in my direction. When it hit me, I was taken aback. I felt the scrapes and the cuts, the bruises that were sure to form, but that did not hinder my path.

Next, his throat was full of hard, shiny steel. He dropped to his knees, choking on his own blood and despair. His eyes were no longer angry. They were empty. Still cold, but empty. I enjoyed the eyes. I enjoyed the way they shined, and the change that was present in them. It took only moments to remove the head and carry it back inside. I dropped the knife in the sink for me to clean later, and then placed the head in the white bucket that he left in the living room.

Breathing was easy again. I was calm. I was euphoric.

Grinning, I looked at myself in the full length mirror in my bedroom. My hair was matted from the rain, and I was tattered and covered in scrapes and bruises, but I was full of glee. So happy. So very happy.

It only lasted moments, and then what happened only moments before finally dawned on me.

I panicked. I could not focus. I ran to the kitchen, rinsing off the knife quickly and sliding it back into its appropriate compartment. Afterwards, I searched for the girl, and found her sound asleep in my bed, her hair no longer matted and her skin no longer dirty. I breathed a sigh of relief that she was not awake.

But then I remembered the head. Oh, the head. I catapulted myself into the living room and took the bucket in my hands before retreating into the garage for concrete mixture. I dumped half of the bag into the bucket and then filled it the rest of the way with water. I considered mixing it in my living room, but then I remembered the girl. I could not do it there. So where? Where could I do it?

Full of fear and uncertainty, I ventured outside and took a seat on the sidewalk, digging my hands into the concrete mixture and trying my hardest to mix it.

I felt my world slip away. Unravel. Snap. I cannot accurately explain the feeling that came over me in those moments. I cannot tell you the feeling of slipping, the feeling of unraveling. I was exhausted, seeing things in black and white.

I sat and thought of my previous days- full of insomnia, full of being terrified to go outside, full of regret, full of depression. Finally, it had all caught up to me. Finally I was downgraded to nothing.


Dazed and irritated with the strength it was taking to stir the concrete, I stood up to find a stick and continued stirring, my mind never resting, always thinking.

In the midst of my thoughts, I saw a form sit next to me out of the corner of my eye. She was beautiful, though she looked tired. She was staring at me with curiosity, her eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” She wondered.

What a silly question! If only she knew. If only she knew the thing that I had become! “Stirring concrete.”

She gave me a look of disbelief. That look…so familiar, and yet my brain could not grasp it. It slipped. It reached, and it slipped. It could not remember. “Why?”

“To disguise the head.” It was only the head. Only the head inside my own. Those cold, dark eyes. So angry. Always so angry. But how did it get there? Why was I hiding it?

“The head?”

“Yes.” The head, the head, the head. Why? Whose head?

“What head?”

“The one in the bucket.” Where did the bucket come from? Why could I not remember?

“Are you homeless?”

A home. I could not grasp it. Maybe I did not have one, whatever it was. “Yes.” Home. Trees. Fire. Knives. So much information, and yet I could not process. What did all of these words mean?

“When was the last time you ate?”

I blinked. Shining trees. Food. That I could remember. The tree was shining, and the people were standing. The tree. It shined.

Credit To – Eat_Isolde

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt


Everyone has a fascination with the unknown; ghosts, myths and phenomena’s, some fear it yet do not attempt stop the curiosity lurking in the back of the mind, I was like that.

I watched countless; movies, documentaries…but my main outlet was the internet like any teen; I joined forums of similar interests and had my own YouTube account to watch what I wanted; music videos, let’s play gamers- I’m easily entertained.

It started out as a mere incontinence at times almost unnoticeable, the recommended section was full of ‘top creepy pastas’ or ‘top conspiracies’ which was strange as I was going through a dry spell of horror; intense stories had stopped flowing. I would simply ignore and carry on my day, a short attention span does that to you.

But it didn’t stop confusingly.
Within days my subscriptions were hidden under horror videos and charts, within a week my patience wore thin by constant flashes of thumbnails and repetitive imagery.

Within this week I noticed.

More frequent as time passed…the occurring pix-elated shape obscuring black and red, a grey and white humanoid shape; I dismissed it some new horror of slender or something. I decided to ignore this despite its popularity; soon I started to get paranoid. I know it sounds stupid but it was like …the image was following my accounts; recommended, tumblr, icons, it was unnerving for me. I tried to use my laptop less, focus on school work but I used it on more than one occasion; but despite having the block on Chrome one night it happened.

The advert popped up half way through a video I was watching; clicking the ‘skip’ button the screen remained pitch black. Frustrated thinking its frozen I refreshed and waited, what flashed on the screen will forever haunt me.

It was that pix-elated picture…in high definition.

The background was black with splashes of blood and unrecognisable fluids splattered up the wall, human scratch marks dragged across them.
But it was the centre of the image which chilled me to my fucking spine, I was right the shape was humanoid; but it wasn’t.

A bald pasty grey face was facing the camera; its skin looked like rotting flesh stretched over a skeletal figure- shoulder, collar, ribs just bones bulging out every crevice of its frame. It was sitting, almost nonchalant around mutilated flesh and death.

But it’s face.

Hollow eye sockets starred out blindly, bits of loose flesh hanging dripping over the gaze, bruised skin marred around the empty eyes like they had been ripped out by a great force. Its mouth was thin and cracked in an expressionless pose, brittle skin covered in blood and amber puss was smeared all over it; like it just had eaten-

The monster slowly tilted its head like a curious child, its non-existing gaze holding mine as I sat frozen. Its mouth opened revealing a toothy set of brown, moulding sharp teeth covered in rotting gums, blood, and flesh-

It was smiling at me.

Credit To – Dilkington

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

Is your Refrigerator Running?

You ever have those weird experiences where you go to the refrigerator to get some food and it’s like there’s less food than you expected? No, no, I don’t mean that I ate it all, or someone else ate it, because I live alone. I just mean that some of the food is just… gone.
But that’s ridiculous, of course. I must have eaten it all when I was drunk or tired or something. That ever happen to you? No? Huh. Okay, then.
Has your refrigerator ever gotten… warmer, unexpectedly? At least, I guess that’s what happened. Like someone turned the temperature up, just a little bit, so the food goes bad? That happened to me, one time. I was out for the weekend, and when I came home, all the food had spoiled. It smelled disgusting and rancid, just god-awful in general, let me tell you. It smelled like something had genuinely died in there!
Of course, now that I think about, I don’t remember the milk being curdled… And I’m pretty sure the lunch meats were still good, too. It was just the smell… You ever get that? No? Weird.
Hey, has your refrigerator door ever opened for no reason? Mine does that, on occasion. The door will open, just a little bit, just a crack. Enough so that some cold air gets out. My cat hates when that happens; she won’t go anywhere near my kitchen then. Only time she doesn’t.
I always figured it had something to do with how much food I put in there, you know? Like, the air buildup forced it open or something. Meh. I don’t know, though. You ever have that happen to you? Nah, who am I kidding, of course you don’t.
What about this, though? Has your refrigerator ever made these weird clicking sounds? No, I don’t mean the regular hum of the refrigerator. I mean ticking, knocking. It’s irregular, random. Like someone hitting the inside of the refrigerator. It’s not very heavy, though. But it’s like… Like if something was inside of it. That just started happening to me recently. It happens at night, usually.
I chalked it up to the pipes moving around, or the pressure changing and the metal creaking or something. Come on, tell me you’ve had that happen to you. No? What do you mean, no? You’ve never heard the tapping? That’s got to have happened to you. Please, tell me it’s happened to you. Come on, somebody! Anybody! Please! Because yesterday night, when I came home from work, my refrigerator door was completely open. And I’m totally, positively sure I closed it when I left in the morning. And you know what I just realized this afternoon? I haven’t seen my cat since yesterday morning, when I left for work. When the refrigerator door was closed.

Credit To – Andrew Sova
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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

Drake’s Sleeping

It was half past ten when she last checked her watch.

He nods his head.
She knows that he shouldn’t be up, but it’s the weekend and she promised him this movie tonight.


Of all the genres, she isn’t quite sure why she even let’s him watch these sorts of things! It isn’t even halfway into the story when she first hears it. It’s low, but it sounds like an old motorcycle muffler — the gargling was almost cute but intimidating.
She doesn’t pay much attention to the movie at this point, now that his head tilts sideways — he resembles an old tree with one too many branches grown.

“let’s get you locked in, tiger.” She smiles.

She tries to collect him but, naturally, he protests. He insists that he isn’t tired and reminds her on her promise. She can tell by the bags under his eyes and halfway breaths that his argument is merely childish excuses, but she agrees to let him watch the movie for a little while longer anyway. It wasn’t even five minutes later when she sees him nod again, but the monster on TV can’t justify these snarls and just as he starts to twitch, she throws him around her shoulders.

“We’ll watch the rest in the morning.” She whispers sweetly.

Out of that dark movie lit room, she carries him into the hall but with each passing step those grunts sink lower. What was once disjointed child-like adjustments became skirmish struggle, as if a giant insect had been caught between her arms and breast. He kicks her bruises and bites down on her flesh wound.

As soon as she’s there, she lays him in a bed nailed into the floor and just manages to buckle him in with all laces. There are no blankets to cover this tarnished mattress. There are no desk or drawers — only a light bulb branded into the ceiling.
He shakes more violently by the second.

Vicious gashes mark up the wall, and blood and dark feces the floor. There were even scratches on the ceiling now.

“It’s getting worse,” She looks.

Lightly brushing his bruised forehead with the palm of her hand, she kisses it between his movements then turns toward the door. He’s shouting now.
And with a snap, the lights are off. The door closes.

One. Two. Three.

Every lock on the door is locked, just as it starts. Her footsteps are drowned under the screaming. Louder and louder they become until it is joined by the thrashing of the bed, rocking back and forth. She sits in front of the TV just in time to hear the bed tip over, followed by the violent smashing on door. This isn’t the likes of any child.

“That’s not him.” She reminds herself.

She turns up the volume, as if to make it all disappear… but it’s of no use. Each howl and screech is demonic, but she tries to remind herself that it’s not really him… She has to remember Drake is just sleeping.
Credit To – Veec
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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

Shadow People

This is a true story, believe it or not and these occurrences have been happening since I was a small child. I have never told anyone about these experiences before.
Have you ever heard of psychics, or sensitives? I have studied down to the very core what they each mean. I’ve studied every possibility to understand what has been happening to me over the years.
It all started when I was about six or seven. Mom was working as an EMT at the time and had gone to work that August night. Dad was off working on something in the garage. So I was stuck in the house all alone and watching TV. I know that sometimes children see things and may exaggerate but this “thing” still haunts me to this day. I was perfectly fine untill I got this intense, crippling feeling of dread. Shaking, either because the room had become freezing or because I was so terrified, I looked all around the room….I found nothing.
I pushed it off as me being an irrational little girl. Then, I got the same feeling as before except a darkness seemed to encroach on me…my eyes were drawn to one spot down the hallway…I was starled to see dark, cloaked head staring at me with two shiny black eyes. My body shaking uncontrollably, much like it does now as I write this. Suddenly this “thing” started to crawl towards me, about as tall as a medium sized dog. Then, as I stared in astonishment, it darted at me with such an unnatural movement.
I covered my head with a blanket and pretended that it wasn’t real, and when I glanced back up nothing was there. Just the faint sound of cartoons on the TV.
When I was no longer frozen with fear, I ran as fast as my little legs could cary me to my father in the garage. Of course, he didn’t believe me but he still held me in his arms while I cried myself to sleep.

Several years passed and it still haunted my dreams. Then, I started to see things. Just shadows, shadows of people. Sometimes out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes directly in front me, staring at me. With those same dark, glossy eyes…
I would pretend I didn’t see them.
Over the month they got closer to me. Sometimes they would be sitting right next to me in the car, but by that point I had learned to suppress them. I would tell myself ,”This couldn’t possibly be real. This is ridiculous!”
I was getting ready to meet my grandparents at Lake Powell. I was so excited that I went straight to bed that night so that maybe it would bring the day faster, but in reality it would be the longest night of my life. After I had fallen into a deep sleep I had a dream about my grandfather. It was his death, in perfect depiction. I awoke to my mother screaming…I knew the dream was true. She had just gotten off the phone with my aunt. I didn’t tell anyone about the dream…

To this day, before someone passes away the shadows will revisit me. As if I’m cursed by that dark soul who visited me first.

we are never truly alone…

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

Don’t Try And Find Me

“Bye!” The door closed in my face and I hastily dropped the fake smile. I was terrified. My parents were going on holiday leaving me alone for 2 days…and one night. I couldn’t stand being alone, with no neighbors to comfort me and no phone line in case of emergencies, just the expansive corn fields surrounding my old farm house. No civilization for 5 miles. I wished I could just shout out to my parents so they could come back, but I knew it was too late. The engine noise had already drowned away down the road to the city.

Realising I was still staring at the door, I swiftly snapped out of the trance and went to my room and sat at the desk. Tick tock tick tock. “It’s not that bad Matt, only 24 hours to go”. It was getting dark and out of my window was nothing but the corn fields stretching into the distance, surrounded by a tree line. I felt truly alone. Tick tock tick tock. After countless minutes of staring blankly I went on my computer as an attempt to cheer myself up. I was there for hours, endlessly scrolling through videos and photos but I still felt alone, and I still felt scared.

While watching a video, I saw something in the corner of my eye, a figure standing in the corn field. I sat there, stunned. My eyes were not playing tricks on me but something was about 100 meters away standing in the middle of the field staring right at me. I couldn’t make out any features as it was too far away and the light from the moon was not sufficient enough. I was frozen in my seat, petrified of whatever was out there. That’s when I got up and ran downstairs, through the kitchen and onto my porch to get a closer look at the figure. But it wasn’t there. The corn fields where bare. I was certain something was there earlier.

Haunted by this experience I returned to my room and read a book occasionally peering out the window. It was late, 1:00 AM. But the thought of sleeping was unbearable especially after seeing that “thing” out the window. All of a sudden, a thud came from the kitchen below, followed by the slam of the downstairs door. Where my parents back? No I didn’t hear any car pull up outside. That’s when I felt it, I wasn’t alone anymore. I broke down, this was too much pressure for me, I seized my baseball bat from under my bed and ran downstairs. I was unsure of what I was going to do, or find.
My heart was pounding in my chest, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. But as I reached the kitchen there was nothing there, just a note lying on the floor crinkled up. I knew it wasn’t there before. I let out a whimper of terror as I gently unfolded the note. The note said “Don’t try and find me Matt”.

That’s when I heard a laugh coming from the attic.

Credit To – Archie Byrne
Credit Link –

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September 17, 2014
by derpbutt

The Man With Claws

The night would grow longer and the screams of my mother and father would increase. I tried to raise the volume on my iPod but it was already at its max volume and I could still here them fighting. I stare out the window with hatred. It’s pitch black outside. I can see the rain crash down on my window. But as I stare closer I see for a split second what looks like a pair of glowing red eyes. I pause my music. I see something, with long fingers. I blink in a panic and rub my own eyes but the eyes are still staring back at me. I have shivers down my spine at this sight. I jump at the sound of glass shattering from downstairs and the pair of eyes outside my window disappear. I was horrified.

The next morning as I muted my alarm clock for school I stare at my window, wondering if I’ll see something again but no luck. All I could see was dark clouds and the trees blowing from side to side. “It’s going to rain again” I thought. 3rd time this week. I put on my clothes at a snail pace, not wanting to get ready for school. As I walked downstairs I stepped on pieces of glass. Thank god I was wearing shoes. When I arrived at the bottom I stopped, and just glanced at the scenery. The kitchen was destroyed with broken glasses and shattered dishes all on the floor and table. There were holes in the cabinets and the sink was running. I was flabbergasted.

I walked to the living room and my mother was passed out on the couch and my father was no where to be found. I noticed the 7 beer bottles on the coffee table and the ash try was over flowing with buds. I slightly touched my moms shoulder and her eye lids opened half way. Looking at me like I’m a nuisance. She turned over and went back to sleep. I didn’t want to walk to school today because it was definitely going to rain, but I dealt with it.

I sometimes walk to school with my best friend Josh but he told me he was catching a ride with his friends, which was fine. The sky began to grow a hue of black as I looked up. I felt a rain drop on my cheek. All I could think was “shit” but I kept on walking. As I was making my way I started to think back on what happened last night. The pair of red eyes staring at me. I began to feel paranoid. I felt like there was someone following me, watching me. When I looked in the distance I saw something. A silhouette of a man. I did a double take and he was still standing there. Just black. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. And I took out my phone and called Josh to see if he could pick me up even though he was with his friends.

During 5th period I tried explaining to Josh what had happened last night and what I saw before his friends picked me up. But he is such a skeptic he brushed aside everything I said.

While walking to 6th period I began to feel light headed and I have no idea why, so I went to take a sip of water at the water fountain and the bell rang. I was late to class but I didn’t care. As I begin to walk to class the hallway lights were flickering which always happens and I ignored it. I’m walking down the hallway which seems like a lifetime and the hall is growing longer and longer as if there is no end. And there it was. He was. Standing there. All black. And I gasped. My feet felt like they were nailed to the ground. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. His eyes were glowing red. I could see his hands… No, they weren’t even hands. They were long black claws. Extremely long claws and I was petrified. He started walking towards me very slowly. I begin to holler for help. But no one heard me. Tears began rolling down my face and I shut my eyes tightening them. He was now next to me. I felt him breathing on me. His breath, warm, but putrid and with his claw of a finger caressed my cheek. He was breathing heavy. I felt his claw break through my skin, blood began to drip down my neck. I fainted.

I woke up to find Josh, his friends and my 6th period teacher hovering over me while I lay on the floor. My eyes widened and I got up and ran out of there. Josh chased after me. Once I ran out of breathe Josh caught up to me. And was questioning me.

“What happened? Are you alright? Who cut open your cheek?”

I raised my hand to my cheek and felt a gash. I wanted to explain to Josh what really had happened but he wouldn’t believe me. I told him I fell down the stairs and that I was fine.

He decided to walk me home. I felt safe with Josh. But it was just hard that I couldn’t tell him the truth. I asked if he wanted to hangout with me so I wouldn’t be home alone since my mother and father were no where to be found. My house still looked like a tornado had gone through it when we walked in. He helped me clean my wound and he stayed with me.

Around 8 Josh was passed out on the recliner. I went to the kitchen to clean some of the dishes in the sink. There was a window above the sink, and I hated this window. I felt a little scared so I closed the window curtains. As I’m washing the dishes I begin to here tapping. I ignored it at first. But the tapping became repetitive. I got worried and shut the water off. The tapping stopped. I paused for a second and me, being stupid, reached up, took a deep breath, and slightly open the curtains.. Nothing was there but rain drizzling on the window. A sign of relief came over me and I continued washing the dishes.

The tapping began again louder than ever. The tapping turned into banging. The bang was so loud on the window I fell to the floor. Some one or something was banging on the door. Then the window. Then the door again. Josh woke up in a panic. “What’s happening Destiny?” I lost my words. I couldn’t explain. He went to open the door and no one was there I opened the window curtain once more and saw him. In the distance. His eyes brighter than ever and I screamed. Josh ran and looked out the window and saw nothing.

I felt alone he couldn’t see it. He wouldn’t believe me. I told him this thing has been following me and he’s the one who cut my face. Josh thought I was lying and left. I begged him not to go but he stormed off saying I was ridiculous.

I ran to get my phone and I called my mother. No answer. Called my father. No answer. I felt helpless. I wanted to call the police but how could I explain that a man with red glowing eyes and claws is harassing me, following me. I was panicking. I sat on the couch and cried.

My door began to shake from banging and I jumped up from fright. I could hear it was Josh screaming to let him in. I dashed to the door. He was soaked. And hugged me. “I saw it.” He said. “By the woods, he was was watching me. I stared into his eyes and felt like It was luring me into him. His hands, were long claws, covered in blood.” He stared at me.

I was completely speechless.

The night grew long. But nothing happened. We laid together in my room. Both petrified of what might happen next. All I remember was holding his hand as I fell asleep.

The next morning I turned my body over to find no one next to me. I sat up slowly, a little worried. I got out of bed and I didn’t see Josh anywhere upstairs. I headed downstairs when I stepped on something wet. I looked down and saw a massive puddle of what was blood. Down the stairs, and through my house. The front door was cracked open and that led to blood as well. I couldn’t speak. I buried my face into my hands and wept. I slowly decided to move my body down each step. Trying some how to not step in the puddles of blood, but it was truly impossible. Within each step the more blood there was. I began to gag while reaching to the bottom.

I stepped down the last step and paused… I lost my breath. I saw my mother, both her eyes where ripped out of their sockets, as she lay there on the couch with a knife in her chest. I still wasn’t breathing and I fell to my knees. Sobbing hysterically.

I finally got myself up. I went to call 911 when I heard what seemed like a scrapping noise on the door. I had the chills and my hairs stood up. The door was already half way open. What now? I picked up the phone no dial tone. I didn’t want to step outside. The blood from upstairs had lingered down into the living room, and out the door. I walked over to the door and pushed it completely open with one finger. I stuck my head out and the door slammed shut hitting me backwards onto the floor. I felt my head pounding. I looked over to the living room and my mother was gone. I jumped onto my feet and tried opening my door but it wouldn’t budge. I was banging and banging until my hands where bleeding and I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was so scared. The most I’ve been scared these past two days. I continued banging until I heard something behind me. It was him. Standing there. His head was titled, scrutinizing me as if I was his dinner. I swallowed hard and tried stepping back but got nowhere.

He walked up to me and nailed his body on mine against the door. His breathing was so heavy. He smelt of decaying bodies. His claws were caressing stomach. Until I felt it stick into my into it. I belted out a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the floor.

I laid there whimpering and watched him slowly back away from me. From a distance I heard police sirens. The sound was growing closer and closer to my house until they stopped. And I heard car doors slamming shut. I looked up and saw what looked like a mask on him. He began to tear his face apart. And before I knew it Josh was standing before me. His eyes were still a glow of red and I was terrified. Josh had a crooked smile. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. The police began hollering. And Josh slowly walked away clawing the walls next to him. And vanished in the distance.
I could barely breathe and my wound was bleeding out of control. I slowly closed my eyes….

The next day my eyes awoke to the sign above my hospital rooms door which read, ‘Saint Mary’s Insane Asylum. You’re crazy but we love ya. ‘
All I could think to my self was…
“Am I really crazy?…. Who will believe me now..?”

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