For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…

November 11, 2014
by derpbutt


Wrapped up tightly in a thick wool blanket, I huddled on the couch in front of the fireplace. Shivering, I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering and resisted the urge to tell Zack to hurry up and light the fire. He was fumbling with matches; his big beefy hands had trouble enough, but he was shaking hard. Finally, he struck the match and flames roared to life.

“Ha! Who’s the king of fire?” Zack grinned, flexing his guns like some big shot.

“Not you,” I quipped. “How hard is it to light a stupid match?”

“Shut up,” he spat back, shooting me a glare so intense it could’ve started the fire quicker than that match. It was no secret he hated me. Well, no love lost there.

While he plopped down into his armchair and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, I watched the flames dancing in the fireplace, captivated. I always loved fire. A strange wind blew the windows open, sending a flurry of snow in with it. Quickly, I scrambled from the couch, flinging the blanket off to slam the windows closed. It was too late. The fire was blown out.

“Son of a bitch,” Zack swore furiously. I couldn’t help but laugh at him, and it was no surprise when he heaved his beer can at me. I dodged it easily, but the earful of bitching that followed was unavoidable. “Shut up, moron! Go get me some more firewood from the shed, like a good boy.”

“You get it,” I threw back, feeling bolder than usual. “I’m not your delivery boy.”

“My cabin; my rules. I can kick your sorry ass out in the snow for the night!” he spat, even more of a jerk than usual. “Go on, chop chop.”

I gritted my teeth but shoved my hands into my pockets, giving in for the sake of keeping the peace. “Fine,” I grumbled, hating how I was always the one being ordered around.

“That’s right, go fetch some wood,” Zack sneered as I angrily tugged on my boots and thrust my arms into my jacket. I decided to ignore him so I wouldn’t turn around and punch him in the mouth. I really hated him. He wasn’t my friend, just a friend of my brother’s who I got stuck with, when he ran off with chicks and left me here with this worthless jackass.

The cold bit into my cheeks and a gust of wind nearly knocked me over. I hunched my shoulders to brace against the gale, swearing under my breath. As my boots crunched over the snow, I tucked my hands deep into my pockets and looked around. The wind picked up again, shaking the branches of the evergreen trees violently. Snow fell in flurries around me, catching in my lashes. The cold seemed to pierce straight through my jacket.

This winter really sucked.

I was almost to the shed, when the wind tore my hat right off my head. The frigid air viciously bit my exposed ears and scraped across my close-shaved scalp. My arms flew up to catch my hat, but it seemed to dodge my reach with a mind of its own. It flew several feet away before landing in the clearing. I started toward it, when I heard a creaking under my boot. Under the snow, there was ice.

What looked like a clearing was really a pond. My hat laid in the middle of it; if I tried to retrieve it, the ice would certainly give way and I would fall into a watery grave. The sight unnerved me as the wind lashed my cheeks. It was like…like a trap. Of course, that was ridiculous. The wind couldn’t set a trap, because it was just wind; a mindless force of nature.

Shaking my head, I said goodbye to my hat and resumed my mission to retrieve firewood. At the shed, I swore, seeing the lock and realizing I forgot the key. I almost jumped into the frozen pond of death for being such an idiot. With a groan, I turned back to the cabin to grab the key. That’s when I saw her.

A girl not much older than me, around eighteen or nineteen, stood between me and the cabin. She was tall and slender, with long blue hair that whipped around her face in the violent gusts. Her snow-white dress cut off above her knees, the skirt flowing loose while the cinch tightly hugged her waist. Her bust was mostly covered, offering a small glimpse of cleavage. A leather jacket covered her shoulders and arms, unzipped, with silver spikes jutting from the shoulders and lining the collar. On her feet were black leather boots with spiked toes.

“Hey,” I called, taking slow, cautious steps toward her. “Are you okay?” She was shivering violently, her arms jerking and knees threatening to give way. That’s all I could see from where I stood, but as I got closer, her skin was pale. Deathly pale. “Oh my god! What are you doing out here? You’re freezing to death!”

The girl didn’t answer me. She just stood there staring back at me, shaking, but slowly her face came into focus and I stopped dead on my feet. Dread writhed like a grotesque parasite in my gut. Her skin wasn’t just pale, it was blue, like the corpse of someone who froze to death. Her face was beautiful but terrifying at the same time. Her large eyes were rimmed with black, with frost clinging to her thick lashes. Those eyes were blank white, devoid of an iris or pupil, piercing straight through me like the cold winter bite.

“Come here, handsome,” she called, her voice chilling and alluring at the same time. It seemed to carry on the wind itself, whispering right into my ear. An eerie smile captured her purple lips. The violent jerking of her body stopped. With a frostbitten black hand, she beckoned me and called, “Come give me a kiss.”

The piercing stare of her eyes chilled me to the bone. Somehow, I broke out of my paralyzed trance and turned to run faster than I ever ran in my life. The wind lashed my face like icy whips but I ran, compelled by fear and the sense of doom clinging to the atmosphere. She was behind me. I could feel her blank white eyes, peering straight into my soul.

I resisted the urge to look back as I hurtled over a log, but when I landed, a thick sheet of ice formed on the ground beneath my boots. I slipped, falling forward. My chest struck the ground hard and I rolled down the slope, crying out in pain when rocks and sticks stabbed and pounded my flesh. My thick winter clothes protected my skin, but the impact bruised and cracked my ribs. At the end of the hill, I finally rolled to a halt and laid there, in too much pain and too disoriented to move.

Then her face loomed over mine, materializing out of the snow as it drifted from the sky. Those white eyes peered deep into mine. Fear strangled me, making it hard to breathe, preventing me from calling out for help. As I stared up at the girl, I knew she was dead, and she was no longer human. She was something else. Something more powerful and sinister than I could ever comprehend.

Every breath sent a stabbing pain through me while tears leaked from my eyes, crystallizing in my short hair. The dead girl knelt down behind my head and leaned her face directly over mine, leaving me no choice but to look right into her dead white eyes.

“Why did you run, silly? ” she asked, peering down at me almost fondly. “I only wanted to kiss you.”

Her blue hair tickled my cheeks as she leaned her face even closer, so close I could feel the chill of her breath ghosting over my lips. “Here’s something to remember me by,” she whispered sweetly, before pressing her soft, cold lips to my cheek.

Then, a gust of wind made me screw my eyes shut. When I opened them again, the girl was gone, leaving me alone at the end of the hill. The pain of my broken ribs and sprained wrists became too much. The last thing I heard was an agonized scream before I slipped into blackness.

I woke up in a hospital bed. When my eyes opened, my brother leapt out of his chair immediately to stand beside me. “I’m so sorry, Danny,” he apologized, his eyes bloodshot and a little puffy from crying earlier. “I should’ve stayed!”

“‘S okay,” I slurred, even though I had no idea what he was talking about, doped up on pain medications. Then, slowly, a vague understanding dawned on me. I was in the hospital with broken ribs and severe bruising.

“No, it’s not okay!” my brother snapped, but he was angry with himself, not me. “Don’t worry little bro, we’ll find that sick bastard! He won’t get away with this. I promise.”

“Who? What’re you talkin’ ’bout?”

“The bastard that killed Zack! And who almost killed you, too.”

“Zack’s dead?” I asked incredulously. The news made me lurch upright, but I quickly fell back down as the motion jarred my broken ribs. My brother grabbed onto me and held me still.

“It’s okay,” he assured me, squeezing my hand as I rode out the pain the medication couldn’t numb. Then he told me all about what he found when he returned to the cabin.

He found Zack lying in a pool of blood in the snow outside the cabin. Icicles had impaled his body, four of them staking his arms and legs to the ground, while a large one pierced straight through his chest. His skin was pale blue and his eyes were open wide, his lips chapped and frostbitten a sickly black. When the clean-up crew had to pack him into a body-bag, he shattered like glass. His body was frozen to the core, as if he was freeze-dried in liquid nitrogen.

“There was a girl,” I blurted out, remembering the dead girl.

“A girl? You think she did that?” my brother pressed, eager to hear any details he could learn about the person who killed his friend. “Who was she?”

I held my tongue that time. The drugs pumping through my blood clouded my brain, but I realized that I couldn’t say anything else without sounding like a lunatic. It was already determined that I had a minor concussion. There was no way anyone would believe a word I said.

“On TV,” I said instead, deciding I’d rather sound scatter-brained than delusional. “Zack was going on about how hot she was, and the fire went out, so I went to get firewood…that’s all I remember.”

Watching the hope drain from his face, I felt guilty, but it wasn’t like I could send the police after a ghost or whatever the dead girl was. What was her name again?

Juliet Frost. The name came to mind and I almost heard her whispering it in my ear. Remember me. Absently, I touched my cheek where she kissed me before she disappeared. There, my fingertips felt it; the mark her frozen lips left on my skin. Quickly, I reached for the mirror on the table beside me and held it up in front of my face. There, on my cheek, was the dark mark of frostbite, in the shape of her lips. Something to remember her by…

Weeks passed and the mark on my cheek healed, fading away. The police searched, tearing the town and nearby forest apart in search of the mystery killer. They came up empty handed. They did, however, find a black truck broken down not too far from Zack’s cabin. It belonged to a girl named Amy-something; her purse and all of her identification were in her truck, but she had disappeared without a trace. Upon further investigation for this missing girl, the police discovered her body buried in the snow not too far from his cabin. The frantic search for his killer ceased.

I never saw Juliet Frost again, but I knew she never really went away. She was the frost that blackened fingers and toes. She was the harsh wind that pierced through the thickest coats. She was the ice that hid under the snow, waiting for the unsuspecting victim to slip and crack their skull. A dark part of me missed her and those piercing white eyes. On the coldest winter nights, I would wander out into the snow to look for her.

To my despair, I never found her, but she sure found me. My hands and feet belong to her, now. She kissed them black, the cold piercing so deep into my flesh the doctors had to chop most of my fingers and toes off to save my life. Despite all I sacrificed for one more glimpse of the frozen maiden, she had moved on. The night after my frostbitten appendages were removed, a man was rolled into the room and laid in the bed beside mine. Before the curtain was drawn, I saw it. The black mark on his cheek, where her lips gently pressed to his skin.

A stab of jealousy struck my heart like an icicle. When the doctors left, I listened to their footsteps fading away. The man was sleeping; I heard him snoring behind the curtain. Listening hard, I made sure no one was coming. Then, I rolled off my cot. My legs gave out underneath me, unable to stand with half my toes missing. Grunting from the effort, I dragged myself across the cold floor, underneath the curtain. There the bastard was, with his amputated leg and swollen fingertips.

Panting like a rabid animal, I grabbed onto the guard-rail of the bed frame and hauled myself up. I glared down at his sleeping face, where the black kiss mark stood out against his pale complexion, mocking me. Without thinking, I reached out to touch it. My fingertips brushed his cheek lightly, but the contact startled him awake. His eyes snapped open, glazed with confusion before they widened in terror. I was growling between ragged breaths, like a raging bull. By the look of fear in his eyes, my angry face must have been terrifying.

I was never a man of violence. But seeing the mark of her lips on his cheek drove me into a murderous rage. My hand clamped over his mouth to muffle any cries for help. He grabbed me, trying to fight me off, but his body was weaker than mine, especially after having his leg amputated. While I pushed my hand harder over his mouth, my other hand crushed down on his throat. That mark on his face! Something inside my brain just shattered, like an icicle on pavement.

His agonized screams broke free, alerting the hospital staff. I heard them burst into the room, crying out in horror before they rushed toward me. Strong arms pried me off the screaming man. But it was too late! I spat the chunk of flesh from my mouth and laughed, while blood gushed from the gaping wound on his face where her kiss had been. I didn’t fight as the strong men strapped me down to the bed and injected a sedative into my vein. The job was done. Now she’d know. She was mine, all mine, no one could have her kisses but me.

Credit To – Rissa Renee Wolverton
Credit Link –

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November 11, 2014
by derpbutt


We are all hoping for something. Weather it’s love, life, or hoping the next person we kill won’t get us caught. Another day is only a waste of my heart. Because what if there’s someone who isn’t hoping for anything, not the morning, not for the end. Are they just a freak of nature, outside of gods boundary. And we try to hold onto what we believe is right, our morals are what matter most. Strangers are just strangers, even if you get to know them. My hands are covered in blood, but it seems to be my own from my heart bleeding out for help. In the end a curse is a curse, and we all have one. The chains become rusted and unbreakable over time until we bury ourselves too deep in the thoughts. I can’t help myself, so why don’t you fix me?

It’s been sixty years since the epidemic, being a kid during this time was probably the luckiest thing ever. Though most of us didn’t know what happened back then, and most of our parents forbid us from even touching the history books that told us what went on. The curious ones of course would press on and on, and the teachers would become uneasy whenever asked. It was like not only did a sickness kill billions, but someone did mass murder. That’s how I’d describe them when a kid asked about the epidemic anyway.

I remember sitting in the first grade, when most of the children would ask innocent questions and the teachers would brush it off like they didn’t know what we were talking about. There was a game we would play on the playground too. Someone would pretend to be sick, and the others had to run in order not to get infected. You could call it a twisted version of Sharks and minnows if you’ve ever played that kids game.

By the time we were in fourth grade, the epidemic was like some sort of good book everyone read. Or a ghost story with no details to discuss. Don’t get me wrong, I was just as curious as the kids next to me, but my mind was more concentrated on why the parents and adults were so scared of this thing. In class we learned an epidemic is when a bunch of people get sick and die right? Well that happened all the time, I guess it shouldn’t as much with all the modern technology but still, it was like….they experienced a murder right in front of their eyes.

Looking back on it, we all figured we were idiots to treat it like it was. Hitting high school many had moved on from the idea of ‘the epidemic’. I even got a girlfriend in the process, but we never expected anything to go wrong in our lives. What fools we were.

There was this one kid, his name was Frank. Your average shy guy who sat in the back of the class, said nothing, and didn’t have many friends or any by the looks of it. By our second year of high school, we would play a game throwing rocks at Frank to see how he would react. Any normal guy would lash out, get mad, or just ignore and walk away in grimace. But Frank, Frank acted as if he wasn’t even there at all. When a rock would hit his cheek and the usual ‘oooo’ sound by the group happened his eyes would stare at the ground with a glazed over kind of look. Eventually a lot of the guys got creeped out and would leave him alone.

By our third year, I had gotten into a fight with my girlfriend over the epidemic. I had brought up I think my curiosity about the adults reactions, she told me that I was over thinking but when I thought deeper the teachers were also afraid of Frank. I hadn’t really noticed it until the fight but, whenever teachers passed out papers, or were patrolling the grounds during lunch they avoided him completely. Frank only spoke in soft tones and when he did adults would often try to cover their ears and mouth making sure to head towards their destination quickly.

What would make anyone so afraid of such a strange kid? I just thought he had some problems at home, and that no one wanted to help him. So I decided, I would talk to him. Plenty of the guys tried to tell me “Jake are you nuts, no one ever tries to talk to the zombie kid.” but I went up to Frank during Lunch anyway. As usual the kid was sitting in a corner, his hair looked like a muck green color, glossy and thick with grim. If you got closer on inspection his blue eyes stood out compared to the rest of him. His frame looked weak, and the bags under his eyes made his eyes look sunken in. I was surprised he didn’t break when I touched his shoulder, but he didn’t say a word or react when I did.

The teachers were all staring at me now, and I didn’t know why. Shaking them out of my head I returned my gaze to Frank. “Hey Frank, I’m sorry about throwing rocks at you. You know if you need a friend I’m here. I mean I may not be much of a friend but, I’m probably better than any of those jerks.” I laughed a bit. But after a few minutes, Frank was still quiet. I thought he was just ignoring me deliberately. What creeped me out even more though, was when he finally looked at me he didn’t move anything but his eyes. Those blue intense eyes peering at me through that dirty hair of his, once he had me in his sights his face grew into a grin. It was a inhuman, wide, grin and he started to laugh. Letting go of him, I looked at him wide eyed for a few seconds. “I-I’m sorry for disturbing you.” I muttered before moving away. Everyone was right, that kid had some problems.

I didn’t try to bring up Frank again, or try to talk to him. Peculiar as it was, a week later Frank would always be staring at me no matter what anybody was doing. Every day, he’d get closer to our table, closer to me. One day my girlfriend couldn’t take it anymore, she broke up with me and so did the guys leaving me alone at the table. I tried to tell them he was just playing a prank on us. That didn’t stop them.

Eventually I couldn’t take it, and trudged into the office demanding to see the principal. When I told him about Frank, and how he was following me and just staring at me, his eyes went wide eyed. He asked if I had touched anyone else after Frank, and I told him other than my girlfriend no I hadn’t. My parents weren’t one for much contact, they barely reached over to kiss each other. The principal shoo’d me out of his office and that was that, and he made it clear that I shouldn’t touch anyone else.

With a sigh I went home, telling my parents about the strange ordeal I had kept secret from them they too went wide eyed. After dinner they told me good night and left my plate on the table. Getting rather pissed off now I stomped up to my room and tried to get in a few hours of sleep seeing as I was having trouble sleeping.

The next day at school was miserable, I felt like shit. My head down I was starting not to give a crap about anybody or anyone around me. I just didn’t feel like it, and teacher avoided me like the plague. It got so bad that I was eventually in the bathroom convulsing every few seconds. Until there was nothing left in my stomach to convulse into the porcelain throne. sitting on the ground leaning against the bathroom stall I made the decision to confront Frank once more. He obviously had something to do with this. And I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

There he was in his corner, just like any other day. But this time he was looking at me, smiling, he didn’t shy away he simply starred. The teachers were starting to whisper to each other, I looked at them for a moment, and felt my heart skip a beat. Suddenly Frank was on top of me screaming and holding onto my throat. In a frantic flurry of limbs I managed to pry him off surprisingly anyway. Standing there panting he stood right up again and started to drool out of his mouth. Laughing and giggling like a mad man I turned and tried to run from Frank or yell out to the teachers for help, but they simply watched as Frank grabbed my ankle and pulled me down raking his nails into my hair and tugging it out.

The other students gasped, panicking they started to gather in groups when I noticed that my head was bleeding from the boy digging his nails into my scalp. Since no one wanted to help me, I had no choice but to defend myself. Turning around I lifted a foot and kicked Frank square in his chest sending him backwards and standing up feeling blood move down my face from my head.

“Why the hell aren’t you helping me” I yelled towards the teachers and students. “What is so fucking frightening about this!” well it was definitely terrifying, but weren’t adults supposed to support us and save us? In the middle of my little cry for help Frank had managed to get up and charged me again. He slammed my head into the concrete of the ground making it hard to get back on my feet. I grabbed onto his head and started to pull out that slimy hair of his in a frantic manner.

In what seemed forever of being locked like that I finally swung him into the wall. Head first I heard a crack and him slide down with gurgling sounds that sounded almost inhuman. I started to cough and hack. wheezing I came down to my knees and hacked up what looked like green gunk blood. One of the female teachers screamed and ran, while one of the male’s grabbed someone’s metal pail lunch box and threw it at my head as hard as he could. The blow was enough to knock me out because the next thing I knew I was seeing black.

When I woke up, I was in a large metal box, my mouth taped over and my head secured towards a screen. It was playing mindless, children cartoons of a mouse and a cat. With small letters on the bottom that said.

“We are sorry, we are trying our best to cure you. Please watch the video’s to your enjoyment. Welcome to epidemic treatment 101”
Credit To – Sarka Isokan
Credit Link –

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November 11, 2014
by derpbutt
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Shadow People: A True Story

I have never seriously discussed these experiences with anyone other than the people involved. I will be submitting these stories with some background and in an entry-style format to try and cover the most notable events. The following happenings are not works of fiction and are still unexplained to this day.

Background Information: My friend Kyle and I have always been fairly open and interested in the paranormal, supernatural, etc. but it wasn’t long after staying at his house that I felt something was wrong. This house is one of the oldest in the entire town with photos in the local museum as proof. Everyone who has been in this house has had an experience to some degree that can range from totally dismissible to impossible to ignore. I’ve spent plenty of time in this place and can say I’ve had more than my fair share of strange occurrences.

I’ll attach a photo of the house as well as a general layout of the home so you can better understand these stories.

The House: (sorry for the tear, I had to find it on Google maps)

Main Floor:



Event #1 – The Creaking Floors: The very first taste I had of paranormal activity was a vivid memory Kyle shared with me.
A couple years before we met in middle school he awoke in the middle of the night, around 4 a.m., to the slow creak of the floor boards. He slowly rose from bed and was too tired to question the noise and made his way into the basement which at the time was used for laundry, storage, and branched off into a bedroom his two step-sisters (Jane and Kate) shared.

He crept down the stairs and walked around the corner to see a punching bag swinging, very slowly, in the middle of what is now the rec room. He moved towards it with hands outstretched and stopped its movement completely before he quickly ran upstairs. Only after he had slipped back into bed did he realize what had just happened and then slowly, he could hear the groaning sound of the punching bag begin again.

He pulled the sheets over his head and forced himself to sleep as fast as he could.

Event #2 – The Shadow Man: Another memory he shared took place in his backyard while goofing around on the trampoline. After a few minutes he noticed a figure in the small window near the ground that looked into the basement. It looked about his dad’s size and his parents were going to start renovating soon so he made an assumption and continued what he was doing.

He began bouncing up and down again and then stopped cold. Waiting a minute, he then jumped again to see over his deck and through the glass doors to the living room on the main floor. His father and sister (Kim) were sitting on the couch watching TV. He instantly reassured himself that it must be his step mom looking for something downstairs. He came to a rest again and could still see the figure standing in the window, staring back at him. And only seconds later he heard a car pull up in front of the house on the street. His blood felt thick as he tried to jump one last time to see his step-mom and ALL three of his step-sisters get out of the car.

That accounted for every possible person in the house and when he looked back into the window the figure was gone. Hopefully; it’s gone forever.

Event #3 – The Abandoned Room: This was my first personal experience in the house and it took place in the shared bedroom in the basement. The older step-sister, Jane, was moving out so Kate decided to move into the room upstairs; leaving Kyle on the middle floor and the basement empty.

We decided to play miniature floor hockey with pint-sized sticks and a foam ball in the room because the only things that remained were a few boxes and a futon. We set up two goals with boxes and moved a couple of loose light bulbs on the window sill so they wouldn’t break. A few minutes passed of me getting my ass handed to me when we sat still to catch our breath after a violent exchange of stick-handling to make a save. In the middle of our conversation we heard a shatter and I looked behind me to find the remains of a light bulb. It had somehow fallen and hit the box behind me which was directly opposite the window where we had placed the bulbs… on the other side of the room. We dropped everything and ran.

We talked to Jane and asked if she had ever experienced anything downstairs and she told us that “sometimes, while we were asleep… the TV would turn on to static or when we would leave we would come back and the heater would be on or the closet door would be open when we knew that we had left it shut,” she hesitated before telling us the next part in fear of scaring us. “One night I woke up around 4 in the morning and I couldn’t move. Like, something was holding me down. Then I could see four dark figures standing over my bed. They didn’t move, or speak, or anything… and I think I just ended up fainting because I only remember waking up in the morning.”

We decided against ever going back in there.

Event #4 – The Spike and the Song: Fast forward a year to the renovation of the basement to create the new den/rec room as well as the new computer room which replaces Kyle’s room; leaving him the only room in the house, the basement. It was around this time that Kyle’s father had brought home the pictures of the house that the museum allowed them to keep. It shows the house surrounded by tall grass and trees with a rail road out front as well as a picture that showed the house when urbanization began. The third picture; however, was of a train tipped on its side only tens of meters in front of the house. It’s rumoured that several people had died in this crash from the impact and from broken glass. They still have that picture but only display the first two.

Down in the basement his dad is working hard; pulling walls apart and replacing old insulation. He began to tear down the wall in the corner I marked on one of the ‘blueprints’. Behind the panel of wood was a wooden stud with a metal peg hammered deep into the beam, with a rusted train spike hanging on it; the type that were used to nail the boards on a train track. Sending shivers down our spine, his father removed it and placed it with the picture of the train.
Later that night Kyle and I were playing a video game in the new computer room (his old bedroom) and Kyle had to step out to use the bathroom. Sitting alone and enjoying the swivel chair I looked out into the darkness of the living room when suddenly the radio beside me squealed through static before going to an old country song. I was so startled it took me a minute before I quickly switched it all off hoping Kyle would return soon.

Only a couple minutes went by before afterwards and Kyle returned. I explained what had happened and he immediately called “bullshit” even though he knew it could be true. We got back to the game and then something made my hair stand on end and forced my body to shoot up from the seat. The radio did the same thing as before but this time the radio upstairs turned on at the same time, on the same station, in the same way. Kyle and I swallowed our fear and quietly moved upstairs to shut it off and went to bed downstairs.

In the morning his step-mom complained that she couldn’t get any sleep because she could hear us running up and down the stairs all night.

We only went up those stairs once.

Event #5 – Shadow Man Returns: Now that the rec room was all finished up; the old computer along with a TV, couches, and an Xbox 360 were moved downstairs for family use while the computer room upstairs was for business. The computer was placed in a corner next to the doorway and the chair looked straight into the laundry room. Many people, but not everyone, have seen a shadowy figure moving through the laundry room while on the computer. This could very well be due to the peripheral vision that comes with human eyesight but what came next makes this an uncertainty.

One evening while Kyle was at home on the computer he heard a scream come from the top of the basement stairs. He quickly ran to see what had happened to find his step-mom crying in the arms of his dad. They went into the living room to talk and he could overhear their conversation. “I was coming up the stairs with the laundry and when I looked up I could see a person standing behind me reflected in the mirror in the bathroom,” she pressed her hands against her eyes to wipe away tears, “I honestly hate this place sometimes; these things have happened before and make me want to just leave… I’m scared…”

This was never brought up again in front of her.

Event #6 – A Dumb Joke and Bumps in the Night: Now I know that we all know that using an Ouija board can be a dangerous thing and is some bad mojo but every story I’ve read gets all dramatic with demons and instantly becomes hard to believe.

We only did this once and never again.

On a rainy evening the house was full with me, Kyle, his sister Kim and her friend, Jane, and Kate with her boyfriend. Kate suggested to us that we should play Ouija in the rec room because of all the creepy stuff that had happened and we all agreed because we had never done it before and didn’t really believe anything would happen. Even though Jane tried to be the voice of reason she went along with it anyway. We went downstairs, lit some candles and then needed a board. Kate brought a store bought Ouija board along with a cursor that we lost later that night.

It was all kind of a joke when we asked “Ouija, are you there?” and the cursor moved after a few minutes with obvious effort from Kate who was trying to scare her boyfriend. A few questions and obviously fake answers later the boyfriend was beginning to sweat and asked Kate if they could leave so the couple returned upstairs. Kim and her friend continued making up dumb answers until everyone was bored and soon they were asleep, leaving Kyle, Jane and myself.

Then we decided to play seriously. No more jokes and no more stupid answers. Jane and I put our fingers on the cursor and asked again, “Ouija, are you there?”, and about a minute later… it moved without any effort from either of us. We asked how many there were and they said four. We asked if there was a man among them and they said yes. We asked if we’ve seen him before and they said yes. We asked if he was with us right now and slowly they replied. Yes. I asked if he could make a sound to let us know he was present.

It was silent for a while and then a thud, followed by a slow rolling sound as though someone had dropped a bowling ball, came from the shadows of the laundry room. None of us could believe what we just heard so we asked again. “If that was you, could you please make another sound?” The same thud and roll as before sounded again and it was coming from the same place near the laundry room. None of us got up or moved to find out what it was. We asked who they try to talk to most often and the cursor moved to the side and then it kept going. Soon Jane had to let go as it carried my fingers off of the board and pointed towards Kyle. I asked them if they meant Kyle and the cursor didn’t move after that. Jane and I both felt a little sick so we stopped and put the board away.

We turned on the lights and couldn’t find anything in the room that could have made the sound we heard earlier and decided to just go upstairs for a drink and bathroom break. This was the moment things got really weird.

There are baby gates set up in the kitchen so their dog will stay put at night and sleep. Kyle and I stepped over the gate and his dog came over and was as happy as ever but then he noticed Jane and started growling and whimpering. She reached for him to calm him down because she had known him for a long time and she’s no stranger. She hopped over and gave him lots of love and then I noticed something. He was still growling and whining at the baby gate, staring in the place Jane was moments ago. He wasn’t scared of Jane; he was scared of something that was <behind her. Then Jane asked us if we wanted to see something.

Event #7 – Old Habits: The same night, Jane led us up to Kim’s room and showed us the old desk that sat in the corner. She pulled out the single drawer and when she turned it over, it was like the air went cold. It was a homemade Ouija board made with paint. She said that her and her sisters had used it before in their old room; Kyle’s new room.

She said it was always just a joke but a few times some weird things happened. It gave answers to things like the girls’ secret crushes and when they asked how it knew, it said that it followed them and that she was a young girl. Jane also told us that Kate had rushed into their room one morning and for a split second thought she saw a young girl sitting on their bed.

We dismissed this because it was late and because we had to sleep in that room.

Event #8 – The Closet: At school Kyle told me he didn’t get much sleep the night before. That in the middle of the night he woke up and as he was trying to get back to sleep he heard a slow moan of hinges that only his folding closet doors could make. They were too sturdy to open on their own and the carpet beneath them made it impossible for wind to have any effect. He was almost unable to check if it was really opened because of the growing terror he felt but he just had to look. One of the closet doors was opened a quarter of the way and, terrified that something might come out; Kyle was going to get up and close it. Except he couldn’t bring himself to move, no; he couldn’t move. He could only manage to move his eyes and slightly crane his head around the room and then his heart stopped. In the corner of his room next to his bed there was a figure of a man with no features, no skin colour, and no clothing. There was only blackness. He struggled with all his might until he could finally move his body and when he turned on the light the figure was gone and his closet door was still open. He checked the time and it was just after 4a.m.

I stayed over that weekend and we made sure the closet door was closed before we left to hang out in the rec room. We were researching what could have happened to Kyle the night before and came across the phenomena known as sleep paralysis. A state where your mind is conscious to your surroundings but your body remains asleep while you continue to dream. This gave us some comfort that it could just have been a vivid dream.

When it came to bedtime we cautiously opened his door, holding our breath. It was open. It was just barely open but it was definitely more open than when we made sure it was closed. We shut it promptly and went back to the Xbox to try and relax.

A couple hours later a loud, blaring song was coming from Kyle’s room. We ran to see what it could have been and stopped as soon as we went in. I almost cried in fear. His iPod dock was playing music at full blast and one of his closet doors was almost entirely open.

We slept in the rec room that night.

Event #9 – The Final Straw: We spent a Saturday afternoon in the new computer room finishing off one of our videos that we had spent months creating (This is that video: ). This time our friend Cole was present and had to record a voice over for the intro sequence. Except it was almost impossible cause we all kept laughing so Kyle and I decided to walk across the street to grab some food from the store and hoped Cole could calm down so they could finish.

We couldn’t have been more wrong.

We joked about possible things that Cole could experience while we were gone. When we were at the till and about to checkout I got a text. “Are you guys downstairs???” That was all he had to say and we ran home. He was waiting outside and said that he had heard a bang downstairs and thought it was us. Lucky for him, he was getting picked up in a couple minutes and left us to finish the video alone.

It was getting late and Kyle and I were the only ones in the house. There were some strong winds blowing outside but our playlists were doing well at balancing it out. We finally got to the point where we were ready to add Cole’s voice overs and began checking them over. They were all pretty crap because he kept making a joke out of it… until the last one. I went pale and I could see goose bumps on Kyle’s arms. The clip Cole had recorded before he texted us began normally like the other ones and then you could hear a loud thump and Cole’s voice stopped before turning to a whisper. “What the fuck was that…”

We had spent too much time working with and restarting this video because of bugs and errors; so we finished it. We began watching the final product and then I heard a barely audible thud come from what I thought to be the basement. I didn’t know if Kyle heard it so I didn’t say anything and played it off as the wind. Then a couple minutes later it happened again, louder this time, and the lights flickered slightly. Kyle was looking at me and we both agreed that we heard it the first time and definitely heard it the second time. We started playing the video again and as it began to rise in tension during one of the early scenes… it started again.

The thumping started quietly again but grew in volume like someone was running up the steps of the basement, getting closer and closer to the closed door just down the hall. The lights flickered one last time before a loud and almost deafening boom echoed through the house as all the power turned off. I could hear Kyle’s chair fly backwards as he got up in the darkness while I heard more banging downstairs; faster than before. The power came on for just a moment and I was able to navigate to the front door before it went off again.

I can’t say for certain, but as I left the room in the moment of light I recall the basement door now being completely open.

We ran to the street as fast as we could and turned to see one of the most dramatic displays we have ever witnessed. The door was flying open and closed because of the powerful winds and the lights inside were flickering on and off all while his dog was barking like a maniac in the backyard. There was clearly a storm going on because once we were standing on the sidewalk thunder began to boom and lightning streaked across the sky. Although we were caught up in the moment, we both swore we could see the shape of a shadowy figure in the window of the computer room we had just escaped. We turned around and ran.

After a while the sprint turned into a jog and then to a walk. We calmed down and noticed that the power was also out in some other houses. As soon as we collected ourselves we set back for the house. Immediately after we returned we lit candles, calmed the dog and said sorry to whatever or whoever we thought could be in the house and did so in every room.

A few hours later the power was back on and we decided to sleep on the main floor in the living room, just in case we needed a quick exit.

Through trial and error, we slept through the night.

Since then the experiences have been few and far between and Kyle feels much more comfortable than he did before. We both swear that there was something or someone else in that house and we still feel that way to this day.

Even now when I go to his house I have this feeling like there’s still something or someone watching me from the corner of the room. Sometimes I can still see what look like shadows moving through rooms or standing just out of sight. I always hope it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me but after all that had happened; I just can’t be sure anymore.

Credit To – Nick C

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November 11, 2014
by derpbutt

Catch Me If You Can

Catch Me If You Can…

I wanted to be scared, to be frightened to the point where I can’t think anymore. I know how strange that must sound to those of you reading this but that’s really the kind of person I have always been. I was the kid you knew who’d seen every great horror movie by the time he was 8, knew the back story of every monster, and wasn’t afraid of bugs or the dark. When movies stopped scaring me I moved on to the games kids will play to scare themselves. I did the bloody Mary and Candyman challenges when I was 11, tried playing hide and seek alone a year later, I’ve even tried using a Ouija board but I never got any response. I’m not trying to make myself out to be some kind of badass, you understand, I’ve always enjoyed scary movies and games and now that I’m in my late teens I’m very hard to frighten.

On the day this story happened I was sitting alone in the living room of my house my parents were gone for the weekend attending the wedding of one of my father’s college friends. And not having many friends of my own I was set to enjoy a quiet weekend at home. For the better part of the day I’d been looking through a site I’d recently found where people could post stories about their paranormal experiences. Most of the stories were clearly fake, not that I was expecting them to be real in the first place, but even still they were interesting and if nothing else gave me an enjoyable way to kill an afternoon.

One story out of the bunch struck me as being different, it wasn’t very long or well written but… how do I put this? The way it was written gave me the feeling that I was reading something true, not fiction not even an exaggeration but complete and utter truth.

The writer began by claiming that the story was true and ‘Really did happen to him’, it went on to explain that as a child he always had nightmares about things in the dark chasing him but those nightmares had stopped as he aged. Recently though they had returned causing him to lose sleep and become impatient and easily aggravated. The story went on claiming that one night on his way back from work he heard something down an alleyway and noticed the street light ahead of him flickering, his mind flashed back to the dream and he snapped and began shouting into the alley as though he was shouting at whatever chased him in his nightmares. After a minute or two of letting off steam he shook his head and muttered bitterly ‘Catch me if you can’, at which point the light ahead of him suddenly shut off. The writer claimed that the noise he heard had gotten louder and he took off running. He ran all the way to his apartment hearing the whispering voices all the way there and once inside he locked the door and turned on every light. Even went so far as to flip his bed against the wall and open his closets so that there was no shadows whatsoever that they were could hide in. All through the night he stayed in the light but swore he could hear voices in the dark outside his windows. The story ended the next morning with the writer stating that when he’d left his apartment the words ‘Almost caught you’ had been carved into the bricks outside his 5th story apartment.

The story was good, not the best written I’d seen on the site but still better as I could almost feel the man’s fear dripping off every word he’d written. I was in the middle of writing a glowing review for his work when my cell began ringing, my mother calling to check in with the clear sounds of the weddings after party behind her. The conversation was brief just her telling me that they’d be back sometime tomorrow afternoon and to be sure I got myself some dinner. I put the phone aside and went back to my review, it was still too early for dinner so once I was done I looked through a few more stories and watched a bit of tv.

I eventually went out around 7 just as the sun was starting to set, a bit earlier than I normally eat but it would take a little while to get to town. Where I live is separated from the heart of the city by a small park, normally it’s pretty empty as it’s not much more than a field with some trees surrounding it. Tonight there were a few people here and there but what caught my eye was the field lights starting to turn on, a few of the bulbs flickering brought my mind back to the story and I couldn’t stop myself. “Catch me if you can.” I said looking up at the small collection of flickering bulbs, of course nothing happened and I laughed to myself as I continued through the field and into the trees.

I walked around town for about 20 minutes before making my way back a takeout bag dangling from my hand. I was nearly through the trees and into the field when I felt something smack against my hand and gasped jerking my hand up and causing the bag to hit a tree and rip in half sending my dinner flying out. That annoyance distracted me from the black welt growing on the back of my hand, I was pissed and that anger caused me to write off what just happened as a low branch being bent by my leg and snapping back.

Irritated I made it out of the tree line and into the field before stopping, the field light was off. Not only off but from what I could make out from the other light across the field the entire light pole had been ripped down and was now laying on the ground. I didn’t move for several moments, my eyes locked on the destroyed light as my mind tried to process this into something reasonable. That came to an end when I heard something behind me, like several voices all whispering at once, “Run.”

I took the advice, putting aside reason and logic I took off across the field as fast as I could, not even stopping as I felt something catch the leg of my jeans and rip part of the leg clean off. I didn’t hesitate to dive into the tree line on the other side either, rushing and ducking through the trees and branches, I heard more whispers but the blood was pounding too hard in my ears to make sense of them. I could nearly see the exit of the trees when I felt something grab my wrist and pull hard yanking me back and off my feet. I looked back for just an instant but saw nothing, not even the trees, just a wall of shadow that had hold of my arm. I pulled and twisted slipping my wrist from its grasp by letting it rip my sweatshirt off. I stumbled and rolled and crawled finally breaking through the trees and rushing across the street, nearly getting run over in the process. I slammed against my front door grabbing the keys from my pocket but dropping them, panic making my fingers clumsy. Grabbing the keys I chanced a look back at the part and nearly froze, darkness was seeping through the trees coming for me. I jammed the key in the door and unlocked it before getting in and slamming the door shut.

I went to turn on the porch light but it didn’t turn on, it was so rarely used that no one realized the bulb was dead. Swearing I rushed to through the living room turning on the three lamps and tv, the ceiling fan lights in the kitchen, the upstairs hallway, every bedroom. Soon everything that could cast a light in my home was on and glowing but as I came back downstairs intent on sitting in the light like the man in the story I saw the living room windows. With all of the lights on downstairs I should have been able to see the trees across the road clearly but there was nothing, only complete blackness covering the view. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the darkness before screaming and jumping, falling back onto the floor as I heard something hit the door hard, as though a person had thrown themselves against it. The sound of someone trying to break down the walls was coming from everywhere now along with whispers from the shadows and I couldn’t bring myself to get up from the floor. It was like my mind and body had turned off, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think I was just there seeing nothing and hearing things I couldn’t explain.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that but eventually I was able to stand, morbid curiously pushing me toward the window. I don’t know why I wanted to move closer there was nothing but darkness there, no shapes or faces, nothing to really see. My hand shaking I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell opening the camera and took a picture of the window, I hoped anyway as I was doing this with my hand alone, my eyes never left the dark glass.

As I starred at the glass something began dragging against it cutting into the window slowly, so very slowly, spelling out its message, ‘GOT YOU’. I wasn’t sure how to react but before I could do anything the front door burst off its hinges, the screws and dead bolt ripping right out of the wood and flying into the living room smashing two of the lamps. I screamed and jumped back as the window shattered as well, I felt pieces of glass hit me and I was sure I was cut and bleeding but fear has a wonderful habit of numbing you to pain. I scrambled away from the destroyed window toward the kitchen, sprinting to one of the cabinets I pulled out the two flashlights we own and turned them both on pointing them toward the living room just as something smashed the last lamp and the tv killing whatever light was left.

My entire body was shaking now as I moved under the three glowing lights of the ceiling fan and held the two flash lights pointed right at the living room entrance. Glancing at the windows I found the same message and the same darkness waiting for me, and I knew I couldn’t stay here for long before whatever this was figured out a way to destroy the light above me. Trying my best to force back my fear I ran toward the living room holding the flashlights in front of me hoping against hope that the somewhat feeble light the cast would be keep the darkness off me. That was quickly proven wrong as one of them was broken in half while still in my hand. I could feel my body being grabbed at, hands all over me grabbing my shirt my jeans my arms and legs even ripping at my hair. Somehow I managed to get to the stairwell at the edge of the living room and scrambled upstairs, the overhead lights still intact for now. I ran upstairs and into the bathroom slamming the door behind me as I collapsed to the floor. There were no windows or closets in this room, four light bulbs above the sink and another fixture glowing above the bath tub. Given the lights glowing against the white walls I hoped this would be my safe haven. I could hear what was going on outside the door. The whispers, the scratches, things being slammed and broken.

Eventually I must have passed out because what I woke up to weren’t strange whispers or breaking wood but police sirens and someone calling out asking if anyone was there. Pulling myself up I slowly opened what was left of the bathroom door, there were scratch holes on my side and as I stepped out most of the wood from the other side was gone. The house was trashed, every room had been turned upside down, lights all smashed, furniture shredded and tossed around, claw marks in the walls and doors. I stumbled downstairs finding several police officers in the living room examining the destruction, one of them actually gasped when they saw me standing there, my clothes shredded, patches of hair ripped out, cuts on my arms and face and dried blood everywhere. One of the officers helped me outside where I saw it carved into the outside of the house, deep gouges into the siding, ‘Almost Caught You’, and I passed out again.

When I woke up I was in the hospital my wounds were stitched up and there was a cop waiting by my hospital bed wanting to ask me about what happened. Realizing I couldn’t tell him what had really happened I jumped into the first lie that came to mind, I’d stumbled on some guys in the park ripping apart the light post and they’d chased me home. Any gaps in the story I attributed to my injuries saying my memory was foggy after they smashed in the door after me. It’s been two months since that night, me and my parents had been living out of a hotel while repairs were made but we’ve been back home for more than a week and nothing has happened so I assume whatever game I had started with those damned words ended at sunrise. The picture I took with my phone turned out to be useless, whatever had been covering the windows didn’t appear and instead I was left with a blurry picture of the street and trees.

I don’t know why I choose to share this with the online world. Maybe I wanted to warn people about what’s out there. Maybe I wanted to see if there are others who’ve experienced this. Maybe I just needed to get it all off my chest… I don’t know.

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November 11, 2014
by derpbutt

Two Noodle Pastas

“Yes, I think we’ll somehow manage to get my ring back,” the married woman replied angrily to her husband’s insensitive question as they both stared at the ruby waters of the fish tank. “Piranhas don’t EAT gold.”


“Its common knowledge a cigarette contains cancer causing arsenic,” the woman explained with a smile to her dying husband. “I just sped up the process by adding a bit more; I thought you’d appreciate faster results.”


Melissa stared at her reflection in the mirror taking note of the subtle differences that aging had caused over the years as she began to brush out her hair. Her reflection’s arm, however, stayed still.


After scoring the winning touchdown of the long awaited championship game, the quarterback collapsed onto his knees with his head lifted toward the night sky as if in thanks. Witnesses and medical examiners still argue to this day over the exact time of death.


Throughout my childhood and teenage years, and even more so nowadays, I enjoyed the company of the people that surrounded me. My only wish, over the years, has been that everyone else could see them too.


During the movie we watched, at the slumber party, we talked at length about if we would answer the phone if it were to ring three days from now with the killer on the other end of the line, like in the movie. Now, three days later, I sit here with the phone disconnected from the wall resting in my lap; it is still ringing.


They had told me over and over again as a child that I could do anything I set my mind to. Now, after six murders and one botched attempt, they keep saying that I can’t finish the job.


John had known that one day the extra chemistry in college would pay off. It was there that he learned about hydrochloric acid, his favorite body disposal tool.

Credit To – MistyBear

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November 9, 2014
by derpbutt
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At My Window

My friends will describe me as the “weird” one. A sad truth if nothing else. I guess they go by the fact that I am (and have been) fascinated by two pretty normal things, normal for me at least. Death and Time. I guess because of these “slight” obsessions of mine, I have attracted some strange things in my life. Like around when I was 13 or so; when I was just beginning to become fond of such dark things; I had my first real encounter with something strange. It involves an occurring series of dreams, and the events taking place immediately upon waking from one of them.

I lived in a small country community. Not a middle of nowhere place by any means, but far enough away from the city to be considered “the country”. We had neighbors and lived off of a paved road yeah, but it was at least 15 to 20 minutes to the nearest store. I was living with my mom at the time, my father was out of the picture at this point. It stands to say I was a pretty lonely child, with only one child of the neighbor’s I could really consider a friend. We lived in a small mobile home, with a large old forest surrounding most of the rest of the area that wasn’t inhabited.

There was a small string of animal deaths sweeping the small community. Some dogs, cats, and even small livestock, chickens and such. We were no strangers to feral dogs and coyotes causing problems, but never anything like this. Normally it was a chicken here or a cat there. Nothing this frequent. Even though the “attacks” would only seem to occur after the sun waned the adults of our little community seemed to be on edge more and more. Constantly keeping an eye on any of the children outside playing, waiting for the bus, or just doing outside chores.

A short time after these animal attacks began I started having a strange and down right unnerving series of dreams. A large, skinny, humanoid creature would post itself on the trailer hitch right outside of my window. Peering in at me unblinking at me. While the image of such a being posted outside of my window was unnerving to say the least. The thing had bright yellow glowing eyes that would seem to set my soul itself aflame. I often awoke from these dreams feeling really hot and unable to move out of sheer terror.

I told my mother about the nightmares plaguing me at the time, however she just wrote them off as too much sugar before bed. I figured she was right so I cut down on desert after diner. The dreams kept coming though, night after night. I turned to my friend for comfort. We will call him by his preferred pseudonym Ace. All Ace could offer me was an ear to listen, and a small piece of information that proved to be a very bad thing forthcoming.

Apparently on a night where he had gone to sleep way to early, and awoken in the same fashion. He noticed a large shadowy figure racing into the woods that were a few hundred yards from my house. It was a moonless night, and there was a large field separating our homes from one another. So he couldn’t ascertain too much from what he saw. That was enough for me though.

The next night that hellish dream was to occur, I was going to face what chilled me to the bone. I wasn’t able to eat too much for the next couple days. I was constantly on edge, and my mother was beginning to worry about me. Never the less I was prepared. I went on about my regular routine. Until it happened. I laid down finally thinking it was over since I hadn’t had one of those dreams in a few days. Soon after entering the abyss of sleep, I began to feel that familiar feeling of uneasiness and burning.

I woke with a start. Ready to confront this figment of my imagination. I jumped up and faced my window, prepared to laugh it all off and have things go back to normal. There it was. Staring at me. Just as in my nightmare. The moon shining in the sky highlighting it’s sickly disposition. The outline of a bone thin creature, hunched over and peering in through my window. The pane of glass fogged up, with little glimmering white shines of teeth dancing behind the condensation. It seemed to be bearing some what of a snarl, and then those eyes. Those glowing eyes. They seemed to burn a hole through me. I couldn’t even muster a whimper, I was entranced in fear as every thought drained from my mind.

The creature slowly cocked it’s head to one side, and raised one hand resting it on the pane of glass separating us. It’s nails were long, and looked like small knives made of bone. It took one finger and raked it against the glass. Making a long and sharp screech resounding into my empty head. After that I blacked out. I can’t recall the events afterwards. When I came to my alarm was going off in my ear, I had a headache worse than any I can recall to this day. I figured it was all just another nightmare, so I rushed to get ready for school for I was running late.

The day went on normal my headache quailed itself, and everything was fine. When I got off the bus I decided to walk with Ace over to his home so we could play some Killzone multi-player. We were walking past my trailer, when I heard a faded screech similar to my dream the previous night. I looked towards my home, then froze dead in my tracks. On the window leading outside from my room, there was a long rugged scratch on the pane of glass.
Credit To – Ryan Lanier

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November 9, 2014
by derpbutt
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The Man in the Woods

I live in a small town near Belt, Montana, that is surrounded by woods. A lot of younger kids had been telling the adults and older kids of the man in the woods. He would come out and play but only when there were no adults around. Parents thought it was just something they all made up until one day a little girl went missing. They asked all the kids in town what had happened, but all they would say was that the man had taken her to his house to play. They asked what this man looked like, and they just smiled and shook their heads saying it was a secret and the man said to never tell anyone. The police looked for the little girl for months but never found anything. Parents kept their kids close for a few months and when nothing else happened, everyone calmed down and things went back to normal.

Just a few weeks ago my little sister and brother were playing in our backyard by a line of trees. I happened to glance out the window and saw a terrifying man standing just inside the line of trees. He was about 7 feet tall and was really skinny. His fingers were inhumanly long with long nails that he ran through my little sister’s hair. His eyes were completely black and his mouth was all wrong. It was too wide and it just gave his face a sinister look. I screamed and his head snapped up. My insides turned ice cold as his eyes bored into me and I was frozen with fear. It seemed like we stayed like this for endless minutes but looking back it had to be only a few seconds. This terrifying creature quickly turned to the woods and began to run/scramble away. He ran interminably on two legs, then on all fours, almost monkey-like, but for some reason it was chilling to watch. I ran outside to my siblings to make sure they were okay. They were fine they said, but they were mad that I made the “man” run away. I shivered and told them that was no “man” and forbade them to play with him anymore and to never go near him again. I told my mom as soon as she got home and she told me to go lie down. I could hear her hushed conversation on the phone that night with the police chief, something like “he’s back again.” But that couldn’t be right, could it?

A few weeks went by and the children mentioned that the man in the woods was playing with them again. Each time I heard him mentioned, my body would lock up with the memory of the terrifying man. I began to fear for every child in my small town.
One night I woke up in cold sweat, fear gripping my heart. I wasn’t sure what had woken me and I lay in bed staring at my ceiling. Then I heard it. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Something was rapping on my bedroom window. My second story window. My insides twisted and my heart began to race. Every part of my brain was screaming not to turn my head and look. But it was like a rope was tied to me and pulling my head to the side. There in my window frame was the man. His too wide mouth spread in a grin exposing glowing white dagger-like teeth. His hand was splayed out against the glass and his filthy nails were grating against it. I screamed and pulled the covers over my head. My mom rushed into the room but I knew that the thing had already disappeared.

From then on every little noise made me anxious. Every shadow held the monster waiting for me. Then one day my little sister didn’t come home. Or my brother. Everyone was frantically searching for them, I most of all. I knew, deep inside, that the “man” was responsible. I told the police chief to gather up the men and guns and to follow me. I knew they had to have gone into the woods with the man. I had my camera with me because I had just left my photography class when I was told they were missing. I used the flash to guide me through the ever-darkening forest. We searched for what seemed like hours and found no sign of either of them. Just when we were starting to lose hope, we heard an inhuman shriek a few yards to our right. I raced toward the noise terrified about what I was going to find. I heard men yelling for me and telling me to wait but I couldn’t. Didn’t they understand that those were my siblings? I rounded a large boulder and heard an awful cracking sound. I had stumbled unto the monster. He was eating bones and flesh. Mixed in the bloody mass of flesh was my sister’s coat. I gasped and the monster snapped his head up. I must have held my camera up because all of the sudden the flash went off blinding it. It shrieked again and raised his hand. I was frozen on the spot, my mind screaming for me to run. The monster quickly recovered and in two quick bounds it was upon me. It took its claws and slashed across my torso. I fell to the ground screaming. I could feel his fingers-his claws- go inside my stomach tearing at my flesh, ripping me apart. The pain was nothing like I had ever experienced before.

The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. Bandages were wrapped around me. Days had passed; my mom told me that one of the men had found me but not the “man.” My little sister had been pronounced dead, but my brother had never been found. They had looked at my camera and seen the picture, but many people couldn’t believe that what was on there was real.

I have been home for a few weeks now, but at night I swear I can still hear him tapping on my window. I don’t go outside anymore, but I stay on my computer looking for anything that mentions the “man” that was in the woods, warning anyone I can about how evil he is and to stay away from him. I hope you listen. Protect your children and watch out for the man.

Credit To – MauseHorrorgirl

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November 9, 2014
by derpbutt

16 Psyche

Since the dawn of our consciousness, man and creature alike have wondered of our origin. God and Evolution both attempt to give the answer, but no one seems to fully grasp the question. Where did humans and animals begin?

In the creation period of our solar system, Earth was hit by a massive space object believed to be the size of Mars. This impact put Earth of a string of changes that ended with it being hospitable. When lizards came to great size and evolves, another great object struck Earth. This ended the reptile rule of Earth, but left the mammals. The mammals evolved into us.

Earth has a long lost relative. This is the hand of fate. The molten core of Earth is often said to be a hollow, but magma filled space. In comes 16 Psyche. The solid iron core is that of a proto-planet, as Earth was when it was first struck. It awaits right outside Mars, as if watching us. In the void between the red dust planet and the gas orb, this predator sits. The free lurker is able to move with the room, bound by space, not gravitational gravity.

Ancient men wrote of aliens called the Anunnaki, a reptilian humanoid race from a long lost planet of our solar system; who came to grant knowledge, and also to rule over us. More advanced, they helped our ancient brethren grow beyond primal limits. Why would they do this, and introduce a new threat to themselves?

Earth was never struck in the dawn. An object left our core, leaving the hollow for magma to fill. The reptilian blood of the Anunnaki began the age of the lizards, and the tyrant lizards ruled the Earth. Reptilian blood to reptilian blood. The object returned to begin a new age. Reptile blood to end reptile blood. The mammals grew to rule. The great lizards rose us to our own minds. Or so we were thought to believe.

This is your fabled Nibru. This is your cataclysmic event. This is the dawn and the dusk. The object waits between the void of the red dust planet and the gas orb, as if hunting us. Waiting for a move. Your brethren wish to return to you, intentions unknown.

16 Psyche
Credit To – ShawnHowellsCP
Credit Link –

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November 9, 2014
by derpbutt
1 Comment

Woods Machine

Okay, guys. Here’s my paranormal experience.

It was 7th grade and I was camping with my friend, Blake, and his family. We hadn’t known each other that long and he only invited me because he didn’t have many other friends, having just moved. Anyways, we went camping at this cabin that his parents’ friends let us borrow. It was me, Blake, his parents, his sister, and some of his extended family. His parents had brought their horses in a trailer as they had planned on riding them along the trails while the kids (me, Blake, and his sister) hung back at the cabin.

Now, I had never been camping before, but I had wanted to for a long time so just going and being out in the wilderness was amazing to me. I don’t entirely know how far away from the nearest town we were, but it was far enough away that the situation could easily be used in a B horror movie: Not a single soul around aside from our party.

For the first day (really, just the afternoon and night since the drive took so long), we were just getting settled in. Blake was talking about the cool shit we could do, how we could explore the woods and everything. Me, I wanted to set some shit on fire. So that’s what we did later that night. Started a bonfire, got some food, and just watched the flames, talking and throwing random junk in. Fun fact: A coke can, when burned, slowly turns grey and then when you poke it, it turns to dust. Probably not good for your lungs to breath burning garbage though…

Anyway, Blake was really eager to start hiking or walking around the lake, but his parents said it was too dark. Hah, bitches, you think you can contain two moronic 7th graders? After we were sent to bed while the adults stayed up drinking around the fire, we got pretty bored and restless. Blake just kept insisting we sneak away right then, but I, not being just quite as dumb and priding myself in not getting caught when I do stupid shit, insisted we wait for them to fall asleep.

“No, Blake, they’ll come back and see we’re gone. We have to wait.”
And then we hear “Wait for what?” – His sister. Older than him, and at that obnoxious age where she thinks it’s cool to not want to do anything and ruin anything that might be fun.
“Ah, nothing. We’re just talking about how we have to wait until tomorrow before we can go hiking.” (I’m such a smooth motherfucker.)
“That’s not what you were saying earlier, when you were talking about how you guys were going to sneak out.” (Maybe I’m not.) Luckily, and to my surprise, she doesn’t tell his parents. In fact, she insists that the three of us go together. Blake and I figure she must be as bored as we are. So, we wait for them to go to sleep and/or pass out in the main room of the cabin, grab a few flashlights, and head out. We were wandering in the woods for maybe fifteen minutes before it dawned on us that walking aimlessly in the dark is not only about as boring as staying in the cabin, but also a pretty dumb fucking idea if you don’t want to get lost.

I mention that we should really head back, to which I am met with Blake and his sister both agreeing, but walking in separate directions. “What are you doing?” – They don’t know which way we fucking came from. We had made multiple turns and bends around different objects and we were genuinely lost in the woods. We sat down on a fallen tree to try and figure out which way we needed to go, but the entire time his sister isn’t taking it seriously. She’s picking at blades of grass and rolling her eyes while Blake and I decide on a route. Finally, after many scoffs and a good amount of bitching about “our dumb idea” we start going.

Along the way, Blake snaps branches and saplings things like that to let us know where we’ve been. After half an hour we start seeing the broken saplings and sticks and start to really worry as we had evidently gone in a circle. His sister is still being a dumbass, going “Oh no! Have we seen this one before?” and snapping another twig and making other dumb jokes. About an hour later, she finally realizes that she’s as fucked as we are and shuts her mouth.
“What’s that light?” Blake points to something a ways in the distance. We get excited and start running towards it, thinking somebody noticed we were gone and went looking for us. As we near the light, it comes to my mind that if they were looking for us, we would have heard them shouting in the distance. It is then that I notice that the light emitted isn’t a circle, like from a flashlight – It’s a square.

It was a square of white and blue light, like a computer screen inlaid into a rockface. Now, as I said before, we were in the middle of nowhere. Aside from the cabin and the horse trails miles from our camping site, there wasn’t any sort of man-made structure. And here was this thing that, to me, looked like an ATM in the woods. I forgot the anxiety of being lost for a moment and wanted to go check it out. Blake was just as curious, but of course his sister wasn’t.

I walked up to the screen to see what it said, if anything. When I got close enough, I saw weird characters that I hadn’t seen before. Maybe a bit like sanskrit, if you know what that looks like. At the time, I just knew it wasn’t English and that it was really weird. Since then, I’ve actually recognized some of the characters in various languages that I’ve seen in pictures online and in text books, but not exactly as they were on the screen. It’s like these were a bastardized mish-mash formed of different written languages or, perhaps more unsettling, the other way around.

Blake was about to touch the thing when we heard a loud buzzing in the air. At first, I thought it was the machine that had made the noise and Blake had been electrocuted, but that wasn’t the case. The sound was coming from above us and beyond the rockface. It was so loud, I could feel it in my teeth. All my hairs stood on end and my head started to ache. Blake’s sister shrieked. Having watched my fair share of scifi movies, I knew to tail it the fuck out of there. I was running with Blake right behind me for – I don’t know how long. Just as we were going to stop to catch out breaths, we noticed two things: One, that we were now in sight of the cabin. Two, that Blake’s sister wasn’t with us.

I just didn’t know what to do. I felt terrible for leaving her behind, but at the same time there was no way in hell I was going back out into the woods with whatever the hell was out there. Blake and I settled on watching the treeline (with a fair distance separating us from that horrid darkness) and waiting for her to come back. We had planned on calling out to her so she could find her way easier, but both of us were too scared of attracting the attention of Blake’s parents and, of course, of the thing in the woods. Instead, we shone our flashlights for a while until we got too scared to do even that.

I don’t know how long it was, but eventually a figure peaked through the darkness and out into the open where we stood. Blake’s sister was bitching at us about how we ran off, seeming a little too calm about the situation. When Blake asked her why she didn’t run with us, she replied “Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to know exactly when you two are going to spaz out for no reason and leave me behind in the woods?”
“What are you talking about? You were scared too. What the hell was that thing?” I asked her, half-expecting an explanation due to her calmness. I didn’t get one. She insisted that there was nothing there and we just bolted away in a random spot in the woods. But she screamed. I know I heard her scream, it was almost as bad as the electronic buzzing sound.

Tired and scared and frustrated, we went to sleep. In the morning, while his parents were out riding horses, Blake and I went out to find the machine again. We were feeling pretty confident in the light of day and we had brought his phone along to take pictures of it. It was a long time before we found it again. At one point we found some turtle shells and were going to head back, giving up and forfeiting the experience to become nothing more than a strange story. But we didn’t quite give up when we should have. Just a little more walking and we found it. Blake took a photo of it as it came into view, but neither of us wanted to get much closer.

Blake was trying to get a good zoomed shot of the screen when a bird cawing made us realize how silent and still the woods had become. It was early morning in a forest and there were no sounds. At all. No birds or insects or any of the shit that should be making noise at a time like that. I was about to mention it, but Blake had realized it as I did so my voice just choked off, making a quiet squeak that sounded much louder in the surrounding silence. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed. As the squeak was just exiting my ears after echoing around in my mind, my head felt like it was being crushed. The buzzing sound was back and much louder than the night before. Let me tell you: daylight gives you a kind of false confidence that evaporates in an instant.

We stumbled over ourselves and started running back. Blake almost dropped his phone, but was able to catch it as he jumped over a rock. When we got back to the cabin, we realized what a shitty shot Blake had captured, but we were determined to let the rest of the trip continue without incident. Near the end of the week we were actually able to start enjoying ourselves again, but we made absolute sure we didn’t head back to the woods another time.

I wish there was more I could say about it, but that’s all there is. I don’t know what the woods machine was, nor what made the sound. You could come up with any sort of story to fill in the gaps. I know I have done so many times. The most intriguing part of it, for me, were those weird symbols and how familiar they have become as I notice parts of them in various scripts and languages. It’s probably just a trick of the mind, but i can’t help but wonder.


Credit To – Greevon

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November 9, 2014
by derpbutt

Bissett Road Rehab Center

Hey, hey! My name is Jeff. Four years ago in Nova Scotia, Canada I worked for a, now defunct, security company called Reliant (it has since been acquired by Paladin Security). During my time there we had a site in the very north end of Dartmouth called the Bissett Road Rehab Center.
This site was fun for a lot of the guards simply because it was a dead site. The rehab center had been shut down for many, many years; condemned due to the use of asbestos in the walls. We had a tiny little shack by the front gate that housed a television on a plywood shelf. This was our source of entertainment for our shifts. Our only job was to patrol the perimeter of building twice an hour and tell anyone found on site to leave.
Due to the nature of the condemnation of the rehab center we, as guards, were explicitly forbidden from entering the building under any circumstances. The more loyal of the guards obeyed the rule without question, the rest of us wanted to see what this building was all about.
It would start out innocently enough with us reasoning
‘well we can’t tell if people are on the premises with a perimeter patrol. If they catch someone in the building on our watch it makes us look bad, so we’ll just do rounds of the first floor’ which turned into
‘well if they’re on the second floor and they’re being really quiet we’ll never know if someone is in there’ which finally turned into
‘well all the other guards are doing it so, why not?’
The rehab center was notorious around the rumour mills. Stories of hauntings by mistreated patients, unbelievably brutalized, and murdered people abounded. None of this was ever actually verified but I guess that’s to be expected from a government run mental health center. I heard all the rumours before I even stepped foot on the site, I’m not the kind of person to go onto a site blind, but I was a staunch skeptic.
When I first stepped foot onto the site I was doing an 08:00 – 20:00 (8 am – 8 pm) shift. I was there with two other guards (I was the trainee, we were only supposed to have two guards on site) and we spent the majority of the day discussing policy involving the site. They took me on rounds of the perimeter, showed me the different sections of the building, where people would try to sneak in, where they would likely be found camped, the usual ins and outs. I asked about the inside of the building and found I was stuck with two keeners. They told me never to go in the building and they never went in themselves.
My skepticism was well rewarded for the first bit. I’d been doing overnights at the rehab which was when many guards liked to grab their flashlights and head inside; under the guise of looking for trespassers of course. The rehab didn’t look much different at night. Everything was the same just darker.
“Well DUH!” I can hear you screaming at me.
That’s when things started to change… Sometime in November of 2010 a group of youngsters set fire to the gym. It wasn’t during my shift and I wasn’t scheduled to go in that day either. Two days later I came back to a very different rehab center.
The crumpled remains of the gym and the haphazardly standing wall brought something out, I really don’t know what. The on duty guards we came to replace that night seemed relieved to be getting out of there. They didn’t stick around for the 15 minutes of banter before their shift ended, they just asked us if we were good and took off to the driveway to wait for the gate to be locked at 20:00. Perhaps we would’ve been a little more cautious if the two we relieved were keeners, but they were well known slackers so this wasn’t all that surprising.
When 20:00 hit, I opted to take hourly rounds. I wanted to get inside and see what happened. The rehab had always been a run down looking place ever since I started there. It had torn walls, broken glass, long unlit corridors with rubble strewn all over the place, etcetera. This was all par for the course. Tonight everything seemed more malignant though. The emptiness was more pronounced, more foreboding. Even being the skeptic I was, I was not immune to the new atmosphere of the building. Even I was not blind to the change.
The first round was fine. Nothing extremely terrible happened. The building was a bit noisy what with structural integrity of the floors around the gym being compromised, creaking and settling was heard from that area. I didn’t want to get too close for fear of a collapse so I left the rec wing alone. As I walked through the building I felt the wind blowing a lot stronger inside but I chalked that up to a gaping hole in the building allowing the wind to travel more freely through it. Aside from sounds that weren’t there before the building seemed dormant.
I returned to the shack to find my partner watching a movie. He asked me what took so long (I hadn’t realized I’d spent 50 minutes on patrol scouring the building). I wasn’t really sure what to say. It seemed that anything I could tell him would sound like a cowardly cop-out so I shrugged and started writing my patrol report. He asked me if anything was wrong to which I assured him I was fine. He clarified was there anything wrong with the building or any trespassers so he could write out his report on the half-hourly log as well. ‘Not a thing, everything’s quiet’ and he filled out his log for the half hour before taking the next round.
As he walked around the side of the building I stared at the front entrance. This was no longer the fun adventure site that I loved so much, it was a monster slowly coming to after being ripped from it’s sleep by a fiery inferno. I didn’t see it that way back then though, I just thought to myself ‘something’s off here…’
The rest of the night went as smoothly as it could. We were both turned off of wandering around inside like we usually did on these nights and kept our *inside patrols* to standing near the safer entrances and shouting warnings to anyone inside that the walls are asbestos filled and prolonged exposure could have negative health ramifications. We became keeners for that night.
The next couple weeks brought about more changes to the site. Some of our graveyard regulars refused to work the rehab. It came down to the point where there were only four guards willing to work rehab overnights so we were taken down to one guard per shift at extra pay which eliminated another guard willing to work rehab overnight. With three of us left we went to a two on/four off schedule (work two overnights at rehab, then worked other shifts in our four days away from it).
Nothing official can be found in company reports, to do that we’d have to admit we went inside the building which would result in our immediate termination, but we exchanged stories amongst ourselves. The most common story among all of us was a door in the cafeteria that we hadn’t noticed before. It was an odd door that appeared to lead directly into a wall. The door’s placement was such that it looked like it should lead directly into the cafeteria wing’s corridor, but no doorway was present on the other side.
Near the end of January of 2011 contractor’s equipment was brought onto the site. The demolition of the building was beginning. At this point in time I decided to forego the illusion that none of us went into the building. I had to see what was behind that door before it got plowed down. I grabbed an axe from the contractor’s trailer and chopped through it. The wood was pretty flimsy, I probably could’ve kicked it in without the help of the axe.
The room was very small with just enough room for the long filing cabinet housed inside. The filing cabinet in question was pretty rusty, bringing the axe wasn’t a waste of time after all. I used the blade to get some separation between the drawers and the frame. The files inside were damp and stuck together easily. Everything was handwritten and detailed activities of the rehab center’s earlier years. Testing the effectiveness of psychoactive drugs on patients, results of electroshock therapy, something they called Sendep therapy, then there were the files of the individual patients and staff.
I took some horrible pictures of some of the files on a crummy LG flip phone then I put the files back and took a picture of the open door and the filing cabinet inside. I dropped my buddies a text sending the pictures and a brief description of what I’d done. I couldn’t wait for the replies.
The first one came about an hour before my shift ended. One of my buddies told me I had way too much time on my hands. I ‘lol’ed back and that was that. The second one came while I was sleeping for my second shift. I got it when I woke up, he said it wasn’t funny and if I kept screwing around during work hours he was going to have to report me to Chris (our boss). This one confused me. I sent a ‘???’ to him and left it at that. I was going to visit with him the next day anyway.
When we met to exchange stories again he was noticeably angry. He told me phone photoshoping was where he drew the line. It didn’t make sense so I just played dumb. I knew what I saw so there was no sense pressing the issue. This is where things get very confusing…
As we spoke it turned out he had the same idea that I had. He, too, broke through that door. Only he didn’t find a filing cabinet there… he found old scrubs with ID cards still attached. Some of them were bloody and ragged, some of them were burned or singed, some of them had holes and slits but each of them had an ID tag attached. He also had a picture of this scrubs pile on his blackberry. It didn’t make sense. If he had done that how was the door still standing when I broke into it two mornings ago? I looked at my phone and pulled up the pictures I took. Still there, still documents and a filing cabinet.
But wait… the name on the ID tag on the picture he took, it was clearly visible among the rest of it that just looked blurry. It was odd and out of place. I looked through my pictures again and one of the documents I took a shot of had the same name clearly visible while the rest of it just looked like pixilated mess. I asked him to bluetooth me the picture of the pile of scrubs. Now I had a picture of a pile of scrubs with the name Dr. Michael Eden clearly visible amongst a blurry blackberry curve background and a picture of a document containing Dr. Michael Eden’s name clearly visible among the pixilated static of a low resolution LG flip phone camera. I didn’t bother offering him the picture I took, he already had it from my text he assumed was fake.
When I got home I texted my other buddy and asked him if we could meet early tomorrow before he went in. I knew it was a lot to ask since he was pulling a 12 hour shift and it took him about two hours to commute one way. He reluctantly agreed under the condition that I support his coffee habit while we met. He looked like death warmed over, and I expected as much. He didn’t get to sleep easily, I suspected he’d had about three hours of sleep, if that, before coming here. He, understandably, wanted to get this meeting out of the way quickly and possibly salvage a short nap.
Before I got right into the thick of things I asked if he had any insight on that door in the cafeteria. Turns out he already broke in there too but what he found was shelves of cassette tapes and video reels. I asked if he had any evidence of this to which he placed a Sony Walkman on the table.
“Not yet, but I’m working on that.”
I was dumbstruck, my mind was going a hundred miles a minute. Do I show him the pictures of Dr. Michael Eden’s scrubs and document or do I wait for him to stumble upon the name? If I give it away he may deliberately look for it but if I don’t and he finds it anyway it could show a connection.
I made my decision, I wasn’t going to say anything. I thanked him, bought him a coffee for the road and went home. I was going to meet up with him again tomorrow anyway. I got home and googled “Dr. Michael Eden”. There were too many of them. I tried “Dr. Michael Eden Nova Scotia” again there were too many of them. I tried “Dr. Michael Eden Bissett Road Rehab Center” there were none matching the criteria I wanted. I knew what I had to do… I had to talk to my buddy again tomorrow and see if his evidence gathering turned up Dr. Michael Eden. I had to wait for my turn to visit the door again. I had to get Dr Michael Eden’s file… I had to go to bed.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I couldn’t shut my mind off. I couldn’t let it go. Do I do another google search? Do I text him to find out what’s going on? Do I taxi my way out there to witness his findings? I couldn’t sleep, that’s all I could think. I couldn’t sleep and Dr. Michael Eden was driving me mad.
Who was Dr. Michael Eden? Was he still around? I looked at the blurry scrubs again to see if I could tell what kind of condition they were in but no. It was too blurry. I looked at the document picture again to see if I could make out anything else. Of course not. I looked at the other documents which were all just grainy pixely mess. No clue, nothing. I looked at the filing cabinet itself to see if there was anything out of place. Nope, same grainy mess that everything else was. It didn’t make sense!
I must have burned myself out because sleep came suddenly and without warning.
I woke to the sun shining in my face and knocking at my door. It was my buddy. I looked around for my phone but I didn’t see it. He knocked again, so I figured I’d better go answer it. When I opened the door he looked disappointed. I invited him in and he flopped down on the sofa. I asked if he wanted coffee. He just shrugged the offer off. Something must have been severely bugging him.
“So, how’d the tapes sound?”
“Silent.” he replied.
Silent? Was there nothing on them? Before I could enquire he continued.
“The demolition crew started their work yesterday, the cafeteria was demolished. The door doesn’t exist anymore, dude.”
No! It couldn’t be! I still had my ace in the hole though, my phone! Maybe he’ll recognize the name from one of the tapes or reels!
“Hang on a sec, I’ll be right back.” I walked back into my bedroom and looked for my phone. I couldn’t find it anywhere.
“Hey!” I shouted, “Could you call my phone for me?”
“Sure but I don’t think it’s going to do any good.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That’s why I came over here. I tried calling and it told me your phone was out of service or turned off.”
“Well call (name not displayed*), get him to send you the photo he took. Do you still have my first text?”
“Nope, my phone automatically deletes after 100 messages” He informed me.
“Get him to resend you my text.”
I searched every inch of my bedroom to find that phone to no avail.
“Got one of them!” He shouted at me. I ran out to the living room to see the picture of the scrubs pile but the name was no longer clear. It was blurred like everything else. Was I imagining the whole thing? Did it really happen?
“What about my text?” I asked.
“He said he deleted that right after he got it. He said you’re lucky he did because he was going to show it to Chris if he hadn’t.”
I was sunk. I had no proof, no backup, nothing. I told my buddy anyway, told him about the pictures on my phone. Told him about the name Dr. Michael Eden clearly visible in the pictures of the scrubs and one of the documents. I told him why I didn’t bring this up over coffee yesterday. I told him everything. He looked at me with disbelief plastered all over his face. He told me to lay off the creepy pasta (I didn’t know what that meant at the time).
“Go to sleep dude, it’ll do you some good.” He remarked as he left.

*names not displayed because these are people who may still work for the company. I no longer do. So, on the offchance that someone in management actually finds this, if you want to change my record from quit to terminated you can go right ahead.

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