Welcome to Crappypasta! This is the companion site to Creepypasta.com, and here is where you’ll find stories that we deemed not quite ready for the big leagues. If I believe that a story has potential but just isn’t quite there yet, I’ll post it here with some tags explaining my reasoning. The community at large can then offer their feedback and constructive criticism to aid the author in fully realizing their story’s potential.

However, if the community is in agreement that I made an error in judgement and the story should be accepted for the main site as-is, they may upvote the Crappypasta. If a story hits the (undisclosed for obvious reasons) correct ratio of positive to negative votes, I’ll move it to the primary Creepypasta archive, complete with a note of my taste fail!

You may read a more in-depth explanation of this process here.

I use the categories to give succinct feedback on each story posted. Rather than write out comments on every pasta, I make my feelings known via the categories that I assign to each specific post. This is done manually and on a per-pasta basis, so if you received a certain category on your story, that is my feedback to you.

You may read full descriptions of each category and how to interpret them as feedback/criticism here.

Note that due to how the sites have evolved, many categories are now outdated. In the dawn of this website, I didn’t get nearly as many submissions as I do now. As such, I was able to post and categorize every single eligible rejected story, even stories that I personally felt had a snowball’s chance in hell of being moved to the main site.

Nowadays, however, this would be an unrelenting sea of nonsense – most open-submission days garner well over a hundred submissions, and it’s statistically likely that only one or two of those will be more than a short, low-effort, all-lowercase paragraph. To prevent a flood of slush, I now only post stories that I believe have potential to be rewritten or upvoted to the main site.

All this is to say that some categories will almost certainly be archive-only from now on, simply because I can’t imagine a situation where I’d actually be posting a story that would deserve the “THIS IS STUPID” tag – it just doesn’t match up with how the site operates anymore.

The most frequent issues raised by new visitors are those of intended meanness and author permission. Please be reassured that if a story was posted here, it was submitted to me directly (I don’t go trawling the internet for stories to mock) with the author giving EXPLICIT permission for me to post their work here if it didn’t make the cut for the main creepypasta archive.

While we do allow comments that dabble in snarkiness as long as they are still entirely constructive criticism, the mod team will not approve comments that contribute nothing to the refinement of a pasta. Likewise, this means that comments left simply to be nasty or bully the author will be deleted. In cases where a commenter continually attempts to leave abusive comments towards authors, they will likely be banned entirely. This website is, first and foremost, about helping people succeed with their writing projects. Unnecessary nastiness does not help us accomplish this goal and, as such, has no place here.

That said, there will always be people who do not grasp the site’s function and leave comments accusing everyone leaving even benign, helpful feedback of bullying. Such comments are at each individual mod’s discretion on whether or not they will be approved, but if a comment section gets completely derailed due to misunderstanding-based white knighting, I will likely remove the comment chain in order to get the post back on track: we are here to give feedback, not argue with people who can’t be bothered to read this very blurb!

There are several ways for the community to contribute their constructive criticism to the works here:

  • Comments: If you want to leave an overall review of one of the pastas posted here, you may use the most traditional method – the comment form. We use DISQUS, so if you want to be an active and recognizable member of the Crappypasta community, I do recommend registering a free account, however commenting without an account is allowed. The comments are moderated, and all commenting guidelines from the main site are in effect here as well.
  • Sidenotes: If you want to leave your feedback in a more fine-tuned fashion, please use sidenotes. Sidenotes (also called annotations) should be familiar to anyone who has visited Rap Genius (now Genius) – you can highlight a portion of the story and leave specific feedback for the highlighted portion. You can also simply click the speech bubble after each paragraph to leave your feedback for that paragraph. Sidenotes are only shown and available on the pasta’s individual page, so you will need to click through a pasta’s title in order to access this function. If you wish to retain a consistent identity when leaving sidenotes, you can sign up for a Livefyre account within the sidenote UI.
  • Star Voting: This is pretty self-explanatory, I think. Just like on the main site, you can give a pasta a star rating from 1-10. 1 being the worst, 10 being the best.
  • Upvote/Downvote: Use the upvote (thumbs up) if you believe a pasta is good enough, in its current, as-is state, to be posted on the main site. Use the downvote (thumbs down) if you believe the story needs more work before it’s eligible for moving to the main site.
  • Emoji Response: If you’re on mobile or just don’t feel like typing but still want to give slightly more nuanced feedback than the stars and up/downvotes, you may also use the emoji feedback options. These, like the sidenotes, are present only on the pasta’s individual page, and can be found in between the pasta and the comments section. Eventually, we will be able to display content lists based on these reactions, much like do presently with the up/down and star ratings, so please use this function!

March 2016 – Crappypasta Overhaul

Well, I’m sure most of you noticed that Crappypasta went totally dark for a few months. Basically, I’ve been plotting to rebuild the site somewhat, add some new functions, but didn’t quite have the time and energy to see it through until now. I...
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Comments Undergoing Upgrade (99% Finished – Feel Free to Comment Again)

UPDATE 9/19: The automatic upgrade didn’t work, so I ended up having to export the comments in small batches. At the time of this update, the upgrade is 99% complete. Only a few comments should be missing, and hopefully they will show up soon enough. By and...
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Admin Post: Crappypasta Changes Announced

Okay, guys. After giving myself some time off from Crappypasta to clear my head (I can’t even express the level of burnout I’ve been experiencing), I’ve finally created and posted the new Crappypasta guidelines over on the main site. I’ve...
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A Warrior’s Death

A Warrior’s Death
By: Tatsukawa no Sadanori

I am a warrior. I was born and bred to be among the elite fighters in the world. Many people believe that if you simply fight, or practice a martial art, that you fall into this category; that is wrong. A warrior is not only a fighter, but also an academic, a poet, and a follower of a strict code of ethics and honor.
At the age of seven I was taken in by my master, a traditional kenjutsu instructor. He was from a small family from Japan, one with a long history. I was very fortunate, most never train with masters such as himself. At the time I lived in Virginia, within the United States. My master began to train me among his other students at his small dojo well outside of town. Every day, when I was not in school, I would train and hone my abilities. I enjoyed training, it became my passion. My master would have us train with every traditional weapon, in armor, and even on horseback. My master would say that we were the next in the lineage of samurai, guardians of honor. Every day we would study Bushido. We would practice calligraphy, tea ceremony, meditation, and study classical literature. For many years I train with my master until the day I was granted the title of master and granted permission to study other styles.
I travelled for a bit, studying Aikido and Isshin Ryu Karate, among other styles I dabbled a bit in. I eventually enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. I fell in love with the warrior culture within the Corps, embracing it as a good home for me. I saw two separate deployments to Iraq, fighting in the Al-Anbar province area. After my contract ended I decided to leave the Corps and begin teaching my style. At this point I had over two decades of training, and still yearned for more. I began to travel when I could, going to as many masters as possible. Now this introduction is to help you understand my mentality, and to help you see why I did not flee from my final fight.
There is a lot of mythology and rituals in traditional kenjutsu, many bordering on pure religious in its practices. In the mythology the very first human samurai was granted his strength from Amaterasu, the sun goddess. Samurai were not only supposed to serve their respective daimyo or masters, but also protect all humans from Oni, or demons, and the evils that they bring. Now, I am an atheist, and did not believe much in this mythology. I felt that it was written in when the original warriors wanted to believe they were part of something much greater than themselves.
As I travelled to as many of the different masters that I could find it usually ended up in a small duel. Almost always these fights were with mutual respect and simplistic, using training bokken, or wooden swords, just to test each other’s abilities. I truly felt alive during these fights. I admit, after experiencing true combat, I yearned for a true battle between warriors.
One day I was working at my dojo, cleaning up for the most part, I notices a rolled up scroll on the front stoop. I became very curious since this is 2016 and no one even uses regular mail nowadays. As I unrolled the scroll I found that it was written very traditionally in kanji, Japanese calligraphy. The scroll was a challenge, one that promised a fight that I could not win. I laughed to myself and marveled at the thought of who would take this amount of time to challenge a relatively unknown kenjutsu instructor. Never the less, I was intrigued and continued to read. The scroll instructed that if I was truly a warrior that I would meet at near an old lake in seven days. The scroll stated one last thing, something that really caught my attention, it said to only bring true katana. No duel I had ever fought in used a ‘live’ blade. A katana could cut another man down with a simple flick of the wrist, and was not to be toyed with. I figured that this challenge came from a younger person, one who wanted to really force me to coming.
I was truly enthralled in the thought of this fight. On the seventh day I went to the lake as the scroll had instructed. It was just after sunset as I was sitting quietly by the lake meditating. I had brought two bokken on top of my traditional weaponry. I figured that the challenge was just an idle statement and that we would need the bokken. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting I finally heard footsteps approaching. I stood up and turned to face my guest, I was instantly struck with the sense of danger. My eyes fixated on a shadowy figure standing thirty feet away from me. Every instinct I had was screaming at my internally that the person in front of me was a threat.
My eyes strained in the low light to try and make out who was standing in front of me. Out of nowhere the figure spoke, its voice echoed through the evening. “I told you that you would not need those,” indicating to the bokken laying the ground next to me. I was now committed to showing this person, whoever they were, that I was not too impressed with their games. I smiled and said, “I did not think you would be foolish enough to challenge me in such away.”
The figure stepped into closer to me, however, the shadow falling over them did not lessen at all. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I knew that, whoever this was, they were here for blood. The figure stood motionless for a bit, seemly observing me. “Throughout the ages warriors have agreed to my challenges, you will be among a long line of defeated.” That statement sent a cold chill down my spine.
There was a long silence between us, I could feel the wind blowing ever so slightly. Adrenaline began to course through my veins, and I began to sweat. I knew, deep inside of me, that this was not going to be a fight that I was used to.
The figure moved in a flash, closing the distance in lighting speed. Its blade drew from his sheath and glinted in the pale moonlight. I reacted with as much speed as I could, drawing my katana and parrying its attack. I shifted to my right in a violent counter attack. The thought of not drawing blood, or a friendly fight was gone. This was a fight to the death, every part of me knew it. The figure moved, almost effortlessly, away from my attack. The figure stepped back away from me as I took a guarded stance. “Interesting,” was all that it said.
It attacked again, this time with what seemed like greater speed. I moved in counter bringing my weapons up from a low ready. I only stuck air, as I quickly realized that the figure was behind me. I turned quickly and blocked an attack just in time. The force of the blow vibrated my katana and sent its energy throughout my body. I had no time to recover before the next attack came with intense ferocity. I was placed on the defensive rapidly, doing my best to simply avoid its attacks. I knew that I had to recover, and push back with a counter offensive. As its next attack came I struck out my katana in a simple jab. As the figure moved back to dodge my jab, I attacked. I struck from above, forcing to figure to dodge to its left. I was prepared for the dodge and rotated in a rapid follow through. My blade connect, slicing diagonally down its chest. I expected blood, even though it was a swallow wound.
Instead I only saw black. The figured reached up and touched its chest. “Well struck. I will definitely be entertained by this,” it stated flatly. “Who the hell are you?” I asked with frustration. “That cut would disable most men,” I stated. The figured laughed, its laugh was hallow and cold, sending a chill through me. “I am beyond your skill, and beyond you petty wounds.” The figure moved slightly and revealed its face. Its face was blank, in that it had no eyes, no mouth, and no nose, just blank. “You are not my equal, and I enjoy seeing what you pathetic race can provide in the way of a fight.” I stood as still as a mountain. “What are you?” I raised in question. “I am Noppera-bō, and I will enjoy taking your life this lovely evening.” I stared intently at this creature. “A… an oni? Why have you come to me demon?” I asked with slight hesitation, still not wanting to fully believe what was in front of me. “You are a warrior of some skill, I would like to defeat you. It is not much simpler than that,” it said without any emotion.
My mind was racing with all of the mythology that I had learned, then it snapped into thought. The rituals that I had to practice over and over. Blessing of the katana was needed to truly defeat an oni. I began to utter the prayer under my breath as I took a center guard stance. “Oh? Do you think even with that you will have the ability to defeat me?” The creature asked mockingly. “You will fall tonight demon,” was the best reply I could utter. Though, deep inside, I was not as confident.
The demon flashed forward, striking from my left. I maneuvered to avoid the attack and counter. My counter failed and I took a deep cut on my left forearm. Blood ran down my arm and seeped into the wrapping on my katana. The demon slightly cocked its head, almost in amusement. “You see how weak you are? Accept your fate now. You will not survive this storm.”
I tightened my grip, “I am the storm.” I launch in a full attack. The demon dodged every strike I could muster. In a flash the demon lashed out, striking a glancing slice to my right leg. I began to feel the burning pain from the cut. I pulled away from the engagement, keeping my eyes locked on the creature. This is not a fight I will walk away from, was repeated over and over in my head. The only way is to take the demon with you. That thought brought my body to a still calm. The realization of that statement made me solidify. I knew that I would fall, but, if I was to fall I would bring the demon straight to hell with me. A smirk formed on my lips, my heartbeat was steady. I withdrew my katana and stood in a ready stance. I closed my eyes for a mere second and reopened them locking in place with where the demon’s eye should be.
“If we are both to die, then you have picked a beautiful place for it,” I uttered calmly. The demon did not respond. I was truly in mushin, or no-mind, I was free from fear, or any other thought really. I was ready for this final assault to begin.
The demon almost seemed to hesitate, but not for long. Its attack came swift, but I was not looking to dodge it. With a mighty shout I drew my katana and attacked in the same motion, harnessing all of my training in iaijutsu to maximize my speed. I had to be perfect, it was the only way to strike out. The demon’s blade sliced across my chest, just as my blade sliced deep into its abdomen. I used what energy I had left and completed my cut, pulling my blade clean through its body.
I collapsed onto my one knee, breathing heavily and with intense pain. The demon had fallen with my attack, but was now starting to stir. I rotated around using my katana to hold myself up. Blood was pouring from my wounds, and I was unsure if I could muster another attack. My sight was fading and I knew that my time was coming quickly. The demon’s strikes had been effective, its last strike was fatal, and I knew it. The demon was now able to steady itself onto its feet. “You pathetic pile of dirt,” its anger was clear. I began to smile, I knew my blow had been effective. “I will take your head as my trophy,” the demon stated as it moved in attack towards me again. However, it was wounded, and much slower. I rallied all of my strength and counter fast. My katana pierced its throat cleanly on its left side. The demon stopped moving, I had it. I rotated my blade and moved to complete my cut. In a flash I separated its head from its shoulders. The demons body collapsed on the ground as I fell for the last time.
I rolled the best I could to a sitting position, propping my katana on my shoulder. I looked up at the night sky as my vision faded. A smile broke my lips, I die a true warrior’s death. I continued to smile happily as my life faded away. Dying while defeating an oni was not a bad death.

Credit: Tatsukawa no Sadanori

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Under The Bed

When I was about twelve, maybe younger, I remember my mother always sending me to retrieve things for her. Easy tasks really. She’d simply ask if I would get something upstairs for her, like a brush, or some sandals. Nothing too complicated if I can recall. She wouldn’t do this very often though, so when I was asked, I didn’t really have any complaints.

Though I do remember one night, for some reason, I didn’t understand-and still to this day, don’t, I didn’t want to go into her room. Her room, was on the second floor of our home, and I was only allowed to enter it when she asked. There were no long hallways, or creaky stairs, nothing that could logically make a kid wet their pants. But for some reason I felt on edge, maybe even frightened to go to her room.

Needless to say I did go, I took my time on the stairs and opened her door with caution, I felt so foolish at the time, like a paranoid idiot, all I was asked to do was grab her laptop. It was something so simple. Yet I had a nagging feeling of fear at the back of my head. I recall opening a few drawers, obvious places she would likely hide the expensive thing. Though, it wasn’t in any of the nightstands.

I even checked the dressers in slight irritation, I didn’t want to be in there after-all, though I knew my mother would be more irritated than I. So, I decided to make sure I checked everywhere before addressing my mother empty-handed. Walking to the left of the queen-sized bed I propped myself with my knees to my chest and peered under the bed. I could the see the faint shape of the laptop against the shadow of the dangling sheets.

Admittedly, I remember giving a sigh of relief before standing and walking around the bed. Kneeling beside the bed I lifted the hanging sheets I reached my hand under the bed. A small breeze passed over the side of my face, I looked to see the closed window just across the room, that was when I suddenly felt a tight grip at my wrist, It was cold and felt odd, like a wet glove. I gave out a scream for my mother as i fell back. I tugged and pulled, trying to free my arm from the hard grip on it.

Just as fast as it had latched itself onto my wrist, it was gone. I panted as I hastily looked under the bed again. I saw nothing except the laptop. I remember grabbing it and running out of there as fast as I could.

After I had given my mother her laptop I told her about the hand that had grabbed me, though there was no mark on my wrist, to my surprise. Though she held a calm, almost impatient stare as I told her of what had happened. When she did speak, she held her fingers pinched at the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed calmly.

“I asked you to get my laptop yesterday night,” she had said. As it had dawned upon me she continued.

“You’ve been asleep since then.”

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A Bump In The Night

THUD! Every night I heard that noise. I heard it when I was little. When I asked my mother about the noises during the night, she would say that houses make noises, the wind creaks the floorboards, the boiler rumbles, the pipes in the walls screech. It was nothing to get scared over.

‘But what about the thud mummy?’ I would ask.

‘The thud?’ She questioned.

‘The noise the house makes when you and daddy have gone to sleep.’

That one, loud, thud, like when a large cat jumps down from a windowsill. Except we’ve never had a cat. I heard it when I was little and I hear it now.

About a week ago the noise began, once again, to push itself into my subconscious and intrude my dreams. Slowly I became more and more aware, instead of falling straight back to sleep, I kept my eyes open a few moments, held my breath, then I’d wait. Nothing. Once or twice I’ve opened my door, stood in the door frame, a cold sweat threatening until I decide it’s silly and laugh it off.

Tonight I hear it. Opening my door I look at the strips of moonlight across the hallway floor and see the camera I set up a few hours earlier, it’s red eye focused and blinking. Walking back to bed I hear footsteps and stop. Silence. My footsteps I realise and get back under the covers. Before my heavy eyelids fall, I think I catch another sound, the wind through a crack in the window perhaps – must be.

It’s morning and I’m out of bed at 9:00 walking past the camera to brush my teeth. The red light has gone out and it will need to be charged. There’s probably nothing on it anyway. Bending down to pick the camera up I notice the lens has a sticky clear substance smeared across it. I touch it with my finger, it feels like the skin that forms on the surface of a hot chocolate. It smells sweet, like toffee. I wash my hands and clean the lens and take it to my bedroom.

Sitting on the floor, leaning against the end of my bed, I look out of the window already bored of waiting for the camera to charge. PING! The camera pulls me out of my daydream, telling me it’s on and to ‘watch me’. Shuffling through some footage I find last night’s.

The image on the screen is of the darkened hallway and a warm orange light from street lamps. Placing the camera to my ear I fast forward until I hear it. THUD! Quickly I hold the camera back in front of me. The hallway lit by strips of moonlight. A few seconds go by and I’m deflated and I’m relieved.

Nothing.

And then…something.

My eyes widen and I pull the camera closer. A hand, in the corner of the screen, long and skeleton-like. An arm, stick thin. My bedroom door opens and I look at myself standing in the doorway looking at the camera and I see a creature next to my door, against the wall, looking through the camera at me. Upright on its legs, the creature is human-like in form but skeletal, has red raw, scabbing skin as if it has been constantly scratching, and a deathly amused smile. Its eyes shine with quiet excitement, its ribcage moves rapidly under the flesh.

I shut my door and the creature moves down on all fours. Moving steadily towards the camera it stops, faces my door, waits for my footsteps again. Back to the camera now and the creature’s dark red tongue delicately slides out of its mouth and gently licks the lens up and down. The creature curls the tongue back giving me a view of blood stained gums and two large fangs. It creeps backward with hissing laughter. Dropping the painted smile, child-like eyes never part from mine as the creature glides down the stairs.

The screen is black.

Silent seconds stand. My hands are clammy, my eyes sting, my throat feels choked, I scream. Whimpering, my body swivels round to face the hallway. My breathing is too loud! Dad’s blurry figure stands in the doorway.

‘What the hell is going on!’

I look beyond him, waiting, for a reaching arm, a spiked grin. I listen.

Later, dad will search the attic and find nothing, the footage will contain no monster, there will be no more thuds in the night and there will never be any peace for me.

But there is always an attic, a man sized square that separates the place you pass across every day from a place above your head that you may have never seen. There will always be an attic. There will always be a creak, or a hiss, or scratching, a hum, a whistle. Or a thud.

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4th floor

I’ve been staying at a friend’s this week as I haven’t found a flat just yet. She lives on the fourth floor in one of those shitty rooms at the university campus where you share the toilets and showers with every living soul on your floor. We hardly ever see anyone down the halls when we go out to the loo. The only times I’ve seen people is when we go downstairs. It’s almost as if her floor is empty except for the two of us. However, at night, I always hear the doors open and close, followed by footsteps and then the bathroom door opens. Sometimes, before I go out to pee, I hear a door open and close, and I gladly step out thinking I’d finally meet a neighbor or two, but when I’m in the hall there’s no one.

Today, I had enough and went to the first cleaning lady I could find and asked her if there were anyone except my friend living on the fourth floor cos I never see anyone. “But this building only has three floor, your friend must have been lying to you!”, she said with a chuckle. I’m still questioning whether I should go up there again or leave the country asap.

Credit: ChloeRivs
Credit Link: https://chloerivs.tumblr.com

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Chain Ring

I don’t wish this upon anyone. The fear that has consumed me these past few weeks seems almost unrealistic. I haven’t been able to sleep. Eating has been out of the question, but I guess that’s what put me here. The doctor says I’m not healthy. I’ve had nurses force feeding tubes down my throat, which is the price to pay, I guess.

It started about a month ago. I was scrolling through eBay and looking through the different categories; collectibles, electronics, music, etc. while something caught my eye. The listing said “Chain Ring”, but I figured it was something that the seller did to explain that it came with some sort of chain. The seller was located in Hong Kong, so I assumed that it was going to take some time for it to be delivered. It was a blue mood ring, with Japanese writing on it. I assumed it went to some sort of anime, so I decided to buy it.

A few days had passed, and I had forgotten about the order. The ring wasn’t very expensive, so it didn’t really matter. I went to the post, and checked the mail, when a small, white envelope fell onto the floor. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about this.” I said, picking the parcel up. I grabbed the rest of my mail from the box and locked it. I had a few more errands to run before going home, so I just set the mail on the passenger seat.

I went into a market to pick up some milk and a few other things. It was a typical Thursday afternoon. The market was packed from rush hour, shelves were being stocked, and many young children crying and screaming. I just wanted to get out of this damned place, so I grabbed everything I needed, quickly paid, and rushed out to my car. I set the groceries in the back seat, and then I opened the driver’s door, when the parcel fell onto the ground. “What the hell?” I remembered asking to myself. I shook off the thought and put it back into the car, shoving the incident to the back of my mind.

Getting home, I brought everything inside. I set my mail on the coffee table and put the groceries away. I was neat in organization, so everything had it’s place. My parent’s always thought I had some form of OCD, but I don’t think that’s the case.

In the other room, I heard my cat hissing and growling, which is unlike his character, so I immediately rushed into the living room. He was standing on the coffee table, all fluffed up, growling at nothing. He began to back up until he fell off the table and went running to my bedroom to hide from whatever was bugging him. I went back into the kitchen and finished putting things away. I sat down on the couch, picking up my mail, and quickly looking through it: bill, bill, junk, bill. Nothing new. I set those aside and picked up the white parcel. I started opened it, and as promise, there was the ring. It came with a silver chain to wear around your neck, which is what I planned on doing, anyway.

I looked closer at the ring. Everything was in Japanese, but their written language seemed… beautiful. I ran my thumb over it a few times before inspecting the rest of the ring. It was so beautiful that is was hard for me to look away. I inspected the chain that came with it, and it didn’t seem cheap. It felt a little heavy, and it seemed it would last a while. I threaded the chain through the ring and put it around my neck. It felt like this ring was made for me.

A few days had passed when I noticed my cat didn’t want to be around me. He was always hissing and running away. I didn’t understand what was going on, at the time, so I continued to proceed with my life.

One night, while walking through a park, I saw something, out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t know what it was, but it had an unpleasant atmosphere. I walked faster, ignoring that thing. When I got home, I decided to lock my doors, just in case that thing decided to follow me. As usual, the cat hissed and ran away.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I just felt like I was being watched from all directions. The air seemed thick, so I walked into the bathroom to try and calm down. I splashed water into my face, looking into the mirror to see that my eyes were bloodshot. In the mirror, I see a figure behind me. I quickly turned around, terrified, to see nothing. At this point, I started to panic. I quickly went back into my bed, and shut my eyes. Anything would be better than the fear I was feeling. Except, it wasn’t.

I fell asleep rather quickly. All I could hear were voices and screams from the shadowy figures I saw. They were reaching toward me, almost pleading for my presence. I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. The figures got closer to me and their screams were getting much louder. My head felt like it was going to explode. I tried moving again, but like the first attempt, it failed. It seemed like I was standing there, frozen, for hours, but in here, there was no concept of time. The shadowy figures reached out to me, and one of them went as far as to grab me. That’s when I let out a terrifying scream. The pain from its touch was unbearable.

The pain and the fear had woken me up. I sat up, panting from that terrible nightmare. I was relieved to see the sun shining through the window, while I was processing everything that had gone on. I looked down to my left arm, which was still burning, to see a large bruise in the shape of a hand. I ran my other hand on it, lightly, and it was real. This is when it clicked.

I reached for my neck, and pulled on the ring, breaking the chain, went to my bedroom window, and throwing it as hard as I could. I hope a 19 story drop to the city highway would be enough.

A few days went by, and everything seemed to be go pretty normal. I went to work, went shopping, checked the mail, and went home. My cat still had nothing to do with me and ran whenever I saw him, but I’ve grown used to it. The incident of what happened nights before had been on my mind. I kept trying to shove it to the back of my mind.

I decided to go to bed, and try and get some rest. I haven’t been able to sleep much since that night, so I was exhausted. I closed my eyes and I almost immediately fell asleep. I don’t remember much of my dream from that night, but I’m not sure if that’s what you can call it. All I remember was being surrounded by darkness and hearing some sort of malicious laughter. When I woke up, it was day time. I opened my eyes, to see some sort of figure at the foot of my bed, looking at me. I closed my eyes quickly and opened them up again, only to discover that it was gone. Something here wasn’t adding up.

I don’t exactly know what compelled me to do what was next. I reached toward my neck to feel a chain being weighed down by a ring. I tried pulling it off many times, but each time, the chain would dig deeper and deeper into my neck. I threw the blanket off, and rushed to my computer. My email was already on the screen, and it there was an email from eBay. The subject was Re: Chain Ring. My heart sank into my stomach. I clicked on the email to read the following:

“Dear Buyer,
According to our tracking system, you have received our parcel. It would be wise if you were to check your mailbox again, for follow up instructions. Please leave a 5 star review if you enjoyed the item,
Thank you,
DigitalZone.”

I was absolutely terrified. I grabbed my keys and went to check the mail, even though it was Sunday. Sure enough, there was an envelope that was plain white. All that read on it was Chain Ring. I went home and read the follow up instructions.

Step 1: Do NOT wear the ring. This ring is designed to be used upon someone you do not like. It is NOT a personal accessory.
Step 2: Give the ring anonymously. If the designated person knows that you’re the one to give them this ring, you will also receive the consequences.
Step 3: While the ring leaves your possession, recite the following: Watashi wa karera no tamashī o nusumi, kōzan to shite sore o shuchō shite imasu. This translate to I steal their souls, and claim it as mine.

I looked at the paper, in shock.That curse must have been what was on the ring. That was my breaking point. I set the paper down, walked out of the apartment building, and walked into traffic. I woke up in a hospital to tubes being crammed down my throat.

During this moment of darkness, I discovered the true curse behind this ring. The ring was like a chain letter, being passed from one person to the next. But while it’s travels from one person to the next, it doesn’t only take their lives; it consumes their souls. And I was it’s next victim.

Credit: Samantha Rasmussen

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The Legend

The legends say that up on the mountain, deep in the woods, there is an abandoned camp for what used to be a circus troop that frequented the area. The camp was abandoned when the entire troop was murdered. The official story is that, about 100 years ago, the troop was mualed by a tiger who’s cage was left unlocked, but if you ask the locals, there is a different story. The local story says that the tiger wasn’t responsable for the deaths of that troop. They say that one of the members of the circus went crazy and brutally murdered the whole troop; so brutally in fact that the tiger was blamed based on how disfigured the corpses were. The story changed a lot over the years. They blamed the ring master saying he was angry after a horrible proformance, the acrobat saying he had recently lost a child, even the bearded lady but nobody had a reason for that one. All common circus sights. Well the camp is real, all the locals even know where it is, and the deaths reallly happened, but the next part of the legend is obviously fake…right?

The second part of the legend states that, if you go up to the camp, first you’ll see the picture of the 3 people claimed to have committed these atrocities, which isn’t surprising because it was their camp. Next, you’ll see old, blown out light bulbs appear in the creek behind the camp. Then you’ll find the paper article from the day the bodies were found, blaming the tiger. Finally, you’ll see the real culprit in the shadows of the camp. Naturally you’ll try to run, but the moment you look away from the shadowy figure it will be in front of you, blocking your means of escape. You’ll try to scream but, before the air can escape your lungs, you’ll already be dead. This is what the locals believed explained the disappearence of about 15 people over the past century. Of those 15 people no body was found.

Me and four of my friends were very skeptical of this legend. We were so skeptical that we decided to check out the camp over the summer. We all piled in one car in late June and went up to the camp for the night. When we got there we scoured the camp for a bit and found the whole place had strings of lightbulbs hanging over everything, we figure that’s where the lightbulb part of the legend came from. Then we found a framed picture in the cabin. In the picture you could see a ringmaster with 2 other people. One was obviously the acrobat because he was doing a handstand in a leotard and the other must’ve been the bearded lady (although it just looked like a lady holding a fan in front of her face). So another part of the legend was figured out. Then the next part, the lightbulbs appearing in the water. We all stood by the river that ran behind the camp to see if any would just pop up. After about five minutes of nothing we gave up on that. We figured the rest of the legend was fake. We weren’t expected back until the next day (some didn’t expect us back at all) so we all split up to scope out the areas around the camp. I decided to follow the river to see if there was a place to go swimming. After about fifteen minutes of walking I found an area of the river that had opened up into a pond of sorts where the river fed it and there were high banks all around it. I walked up the bank and found out that if you were out walking a trail you wouldn’t be able to see the pond. It would just look like a hill. I went back to the camp to tell everyone about the pond.

Two of them decided to come with me to cool off in the water for a bit but the other two said they were going to gather some wood for a fire tonight. The three of us went to the pond and were swimming for about an hour. Then, one of the lightbulbs seemed to float down the river from camp. It looked the same as the ones from camp but this one had a lot of rust on it. We blew it off saying that one of the other two decided to throw it in the water. After about another fifteen or so minutes lightbulbs were just kinda showing up. They weren’t following any currents but there must’ve been twenty or so bulbs in the pond. We decided it was time to head back. We were in a slight hurry to get out so we got out on the other bank of the river. We figured we’d cross when we got to the camp. On our way back we found a news paper laying on the bank. I picked it up and read the headline (Circus Troop Mauled By Tiger). We were starting to get a little jumpy at that point and we were still about a ten minute walk from the camp so we picked up the pace a little bit, until I saw a sillouette in the woods, then we started to move quite a bit faster. But we made it back to the camp safely and told the other two about what happend. They offered decent theories for what happened. The light bulbs have probably fallen to the bottom of the pond and when we were all swimming around we disturbed the mud and some of them floated to the top again. As for the paper, it was obviously left there when someone came up here to check the place out. The sillouette? Being paranoid can play tricks on your mind and I probably just saw some branches or a bush. With all our minds at ease we lit the fire and started to gather more wood to last through the night.

As we were sitting down around the fire we hear a vehicle pull up just outside camp. A slightly large man came into the camp. We were still a little on edge and asked the man to leave and come back another time. He insisted that all he wanted was to look around the camp a little to see what the legend was all about. He told us how he was from out of town and heard this crazy legend when he asked about good camping spots in the area. So we showed him around showing him the lights and the paper I had found earlier. We explained the legend in greater detail and answered his questions. Lastly we showed him the picture from inside the cabin. He looked at the photo for a solid six minutes before asking who the legend says the killer is now. Last we heard it was the ringmaster. Everyone thinks he went crazy after a bad proformance. The man laughed. “So they gave that old geezer all the credit for my work? Hell I’m not even in this picture.” We all froze. “But the legend took place over eighty years ago, you look like you’re only in your thirties.” I said. “Oh I am, or was anyway. I just couldn’t leave after killing all of them. So instead of dying I just decided to stick around. But you’ve come onto MY land. This camp is my home.” We were all visibly shaking. He told us not to run but one of my friends ran anyway. We turned to see where he was running but he was already gone. Not too far away to see, but just gone. We couldn’t hear footsteps or the screaming that would accompany the terror we all felt. We turned back to the man. He just grinned. “Where is he?” I asked, voice trembling. “Gone”, is the only response I got. After that all he did was laugh. So we knew we couldn’t run. Me and the remaining three shared a look, steeled ourselves, and charged right at him, never letting him leave our sight. We tackled and pinned him to the ground. I told him to bring our friend back. “I can’t bring him back. He’s gone.” He stopped and stared at us shortly then started to laugh even more maniacally than before. In a fit of rage and fear I swung at him and were I should’ve connected, I missed. He was no longer in our grasp. We heard his laugh from behind us. We all turned around and he said to us, “Two of you are going to leave to tell this story.” As soon as he finished that sentence I looked at my friends and only three of us were there. “If you don’t spread the story, I’ll be forgotten. And if I’m forgotten then nobody will come to visit me anymore.” Just two of us left. I’d survived. “If you don’t spread this story then I will find you and there will be no survivors from this camping trip.” And with that he was gone. Me and my last remaining friend ran to the car and sped back to the town.

The police swept the area around the camp and couldn’t find anyone and only one set of tire tracks. None of the police believed our statement, but with no bodies and no evidence of foul play we were let go. The police think we got away with three murders, but everyone in town believed what we said. My friend refused to tell anyone except the police about what happened and ended up hanging himself because he couldn’t deal with the loss of our friends, or that was the official story anyway. Now I write this to warn people to stay away from that camp. I won’t even say where it is because I know people think this is just a story or silly town legend. But, from one skeptic to another, remember that legends have to come from somewhere, hold some truth. And sometimes the legends are completely true.

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Stay Quiet

Sitting in the backwoods along a slow moving stream the event started. First a small vibration than a large shake and then finally the hillsides and mountains cracked and parted. The land itself changed causing rivers and tributaries to dry out in favor of easier routes that led into the gaping maw and eager mouths of the earth. Things left sleeping for centuries awakened by the water rose with new vigor and started making their way to the surface. Nature has come to reclaim its self from man and for this purpose it gave birth to the monstrosities that now roam free killing anything in their path.

How do I know all of this you ask? I’ll answer you. it was because I was there along that slow moving creek fishing. The first little rumblings of the event seems like nothing more than then myself getting a buzz from the beer I picked up before I took my fishing trip. Then came the large shake. standing up to reel in my line a large a crack sounded through the valley followed by a a jolt in the ground that sent me straight to my ass. I stared in awe watching the river before me start to disappear into the giant crevice that had formed on the other bank and I stood for what seemed like hours watching the muddy creek bed slowly being exposed after hundreds of years being of submerged. Little did I know this event echoed throughout all the land on Earth and would soon bring down a living hell on all the life that stood above the surface.

As the remaining water disappeared into the earth my ears were greeted with a cacophony of wailing and howling. The other fishermen stood frozen along the bank trying to make sense of what they were seeing but every nerve in my body screamed for me to get away so I ran. Pushing through the trees I hear people running behind me being taken. Their cries of pain coupled with a chorus of inhuman roars as one by one they were ran down.

Bursting through the trees I sprinted to my waiting car hitting the side of my door hard enough to knock the wind out of myself. Slamming the door shut and catching my breath I see the first of the creatures break through the branches. It stood only a little over four feet tall on its hind legs. Covered in tiny, writhing hairs. It’s face bore a oversized jaw pointing up into a giant oversized nose. It’s large ears scanned the area as its long tongue hung out the side of its mouth from between two of its jagged teeth.

I held my breath as the thing slowly walked forward, ears jolting back and forth, scanning in every direction. It seemed like it couldn’t see me but it stayed in place sniffing and listening. Just at that moment my phone rang. Both ears focused in my direction and the monstrosity screeched bearing its teeth as it launched its self through the air with surprising speed driving its gore covered claw through my windshield. Starting the car was met with another chorus of screams from the woods. I threw the car in reverse throwing the monster off my hood as I slammed the car in drive and sped off.

The only direction I could think to go was to my girlfriend. She lived only a half an hour from where I was fishing and after checking my phone I saw that she left me a voicemail asking if I had felt the tremor. I called her and explained what had happened to her and to my surprise she didn’t question what I told her. All along the road I started to see pillars of smoke start to rise from the towns that bordered the highway and the realization set on me that this horror was only the beginning.
It seemed like forever before I pulled up to her house in the middle of town. My heart sank seeing the streets empty. Stepping out of my car tears started building in my eyes as I looked at the vacant spot her front door once stood. “I can’t be too late, I can’t fail her like this!!” I screamed in my head. Cautiously I stepped in the house to see it torn apart. “Amber, where are you!?!” I cry out into the darkness then I hear a small whimper from under the overturned couch.

In one quick motion I flipped the couch back over and lifted her to her feet. Showering her with relieved kisses and “l love yous”. “What happened?” I quickly asked “they…. they just came through the door, Milly was running around barking….. Oh my god Milly!!!” She said frantically gaining a sense of consciousness. “Baby there was nothing you could do” I said stopping her. it was clear what had happened. The little dog barked distracting those monsters as she ran away leaving an unconscious Amber laying in the whirlwind of wreckage that used to be her apartment. Tears filled her eyes as I said “she was a good dog baby, she saved you”. I held her close as she cried for her lost friend.

After a short time we regained our senses and I had her help me look for supplies we could use. Boxing everything up as fast as we could we gathered what we could find but as we were about to exit we heard glass shatter from the basement. My mind went from zero to sixty instantly and by accident I tipped a cup over to its side. The monstrosity tore upstairs and stopped in the hallway blocking our exit.

It sniffed the air and salivated, ears ever twitching, listening for something alive, something to kill. Amber and I stood frozen, scared that any sound would have it lunging forward. Slowly it shambled into the room and to my horror right past me in Ambers direction. “No, not her it can’t take her!!!” The voice in my head screamed as my panicked eyes darted back and forth looking for something, anything to change our situation eventually falling on the butcher’s block on the counter next to me.

Reaching out to the shiny handle of the closest knife I could reach I grasped it. The knife made a small scraping sound as I freed it from its block. The creature turned to face me only to whip back around at the sound of Amber gasping in fear. That was my moment. with every primal instinct in me boiling to the surface I lunged forward onto the creature’s back knife in hand. screaming, stabbing
and twisting as much as I could until the creature was nearly decapitated. With a final gargling cry the creature choked on its own blood and ceased to live.

rising up from the scene of gore I had created I was met by the loving embrace of Amber who immediately kissed me and pulled off her shirt to bind a wound on my arm that I had not even noticed obtaining in the struggle.
We washed in the sink and found fresh clothes for ourselves. Quickly moving everything we had packed into the back seat of my car. Behind the choir of inhuman howling we sped off with the few supplies we had, our lives and each other.

if you find this note I thank you for reading I had to tell someone that we are alive and about how this all started. The phones, radios and all electronics have stopped working and we have long since went north. the creatures are everywhere but don’t seem fit for the cold. I have nothing to back up this observation but it’s better than nothing I guess. Good luck, stay down, keep your loved ones close, and most of all stay quiet.

Sincerely
David

Credit: David Keys

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