The scary thread

[Tomas Krystinik]

Greetings, girls and ghouls. Happy holidays to each of you, but you've been very naughty. So Santa is sending you something special this year, but I don't think you'll like it. It will really like you though. It does so love the taste of fear!

And now, without further ado, I present: Camera Obscura, a very creepy series about a camera that can capture demons. Not to be confused with Fatal Frame, because those were ghosts not demons.
http://www.dailymotion.com/Camera_Obscura

Enjoy yourselves, and hide under the covers when you hear noises coming from the roof, because that isn't the sound of merry hooves.

 

[Kind Polar Bear]

This thread is great, but I don't think I will be sleeping for awhile.

 

[CrashTestZombie]

Because I would hate to see this thread die and I've lurked for months, I suppose I'll contribute something. It's a "true" story, something that happened to me a few months ago.

Spoiler: The Pause Method

I remember reading somewhere in this thread that gamers have more creative control over their dreams. While I don't know whether this is true, I do know that people have different ways to cope with nightmares. My friend, for example, has to feel pain before he can wake up from his nightmares. Having been a gamer since I was 3, I would "pause" my nightmares when I was in a state of panic. I would yell, "Pause!", and a generic options menu would appear. I never took the time to read the options, since I would wake up as soon as the menu popped into view.

However, one dream I had was different. I knew it was a nightmare, but I couldn't control it.

Have you ever played a horror game and thought "I can't go over there, but I know I have to"? It was exactly like that. I tried my usual method and yelled "Pause!". I was taken out of the dream, left to stare at the screen I was trapped in only moments ago. I let a sigh of relief and gazed at the menu.

Something grabbed my shoulder.

Before I had time to react, this thing fucking screamed. Like a little girl kind of scream.I could swear I actually heard it inhale before it let out its shrill cry. You can bet I woke up kicking and screaming.

Hahaha, oh wow. That's fucking scary. A good writer can turn that into a pretty scary creepypasta. Especially with the "Something grabbed my shoulder" bit that sent chills up my spine.

Thanks, I rushed the ending somewhat since I didn't know exactly what to type. It did happen though, and I'm glad I haven't had a nightmare since.

 

[Nouw]

Goddamn it I fucking hate gifs! It's BLOODY CHRISTMAS! That 'Go to Sleep' one is creepy/scary as hell!

Anyway, Merry Christmas fellow brick shitting Escapists and laughing posters.

 

[Mcupobob]

I would also like to hear more personal/own writings please.

With love and fear - Mcupobob.

"I'm writing a horror story, would that count?"

Yes, personal experiences or just your own creative story would be fine. I think most of the creepypasta on the net has been used up here.

 

[the clockmaker]

Kinda weak actually, a good sort of middle ground for people who want to leave the scary thread, but need a sort of low level scary decompression chamber in order to get back to the surface.

Spoiler

Actually, I think this is all kinda funny. It?s a sort of barrier that we build to keep ourselves from getting too scared. Think about it, if we are scared of the big, unknowable things, then why should we worry about the little things. Why worry about getting mugged by a crack head on the way home, the slenderman is way scarier. No one is going to be scared about whether or not that lump on their chest is growing, because... Well shit, now all I can think about in terms of scarieness is the slender man. See what I mean.


Going on from that, we all know that these things aren?t real, honestly. Even if we do move through hte darkened hall just that little bit faster, we know that they are all little stories in the end. And so we aren?t scared of the real, because the fictional is of course so much worse and we can move away from the fictional because, well, it isn?t real. Does that make sense?

Seriously though, ask yourself, why is wolf creek scarier than Friday the thirteenth? Because there isn?t even the smallest chance that Freddy is real.

Take me for example, five years ago, I was just your average, slightly clever nerd. I went out with my mates, played games and did a fair bit of writing. Of course I had my little oddities, we all do. I was a bit of a perfectionist, kinda smug and had a very physical way of talking. You know, slamming my hand down on tables and that sort of thing.

Then, because no one wants to fade out and just be a face in the crowd, I allowed the oddities to define me. People called me the human dictionairy, which of course I corrected them, I was a thesaurus after all.

Over time, the oddities started being less and less voluntary, I HAD to correct mistakes. I HAD to slap the table when saying hello, I HAD to knock on it when I got up. I HAD to check that the car door was closed.

Eventually, people started to notice, it stopped being funny, it stopped being charming and my friends drifted away. A few said that they were embarrassed to see me like this, going over strange routines every time I took a slash. One actually said that it was unfair on who
I used to be to encourage me to continue to act like this, but I think it just unsettled them. Like I said, five years ago I was normal, so I guess they saw a very real threat to who they were in me.

So now here I am, sitting at teh same table that I have for the last seventeen hours, wanting to get up and wash and eat and sleep, but not wanting to knock on the table first. I am DEAN ********** and I will not let pathetic shit like this beat me. I don?t care how long it takes, I will stand without following the ritual and.....

Fuckit, you?re focused on my spelling mistakes aren?t you. Have a fun couple of years.

 

[My name is Fiction]

I would also like to hear more personal/own writings please.

With love and fear - Mcupobob.

"I'm writing a horror story, would that count?"

Yes, personal experiences or just your own creative story would be fine. I think most of the creepypasta on the net has been used up here.

"Creepypasta, sounds delicious!"

 

[David_G]

Here is one that I wrote for my English work. It was not coursework or anything like that. It was a simple assignment.
Be Careful, its a biggun.

Spoiler

So what have I got to do?
It was 12.00 at night. Mark and I stood across the field from the small shack, right now it was just a quiet speck on the horizon, but we both knew something much more sinister had happened there, just a few months ago. A body was found, no witnesses, no suspect, and no idea. Over time the shack had become a sort of legend among the people of this town, a haunted building that will bring great pain to anybody who dares venture there.
All you have to do is spend the night there! Mark said with a smirk. Do it and you get £50, you said you would do it, are you going to pussy out now?
Mark was an arsehole, but he was a manipulative arsehole. With a sigh of discomfort, I picked up the sleeping bag with all my stuff in it and started across the field, the bag slung over my shoulder like a bag of potatoes. If there are any problems, all you have to do is call me. Good luck! He shouted mockingly as he walked along the path back to his flat.
I wondered to myself on the way over. Why do I do these things? If I just turn back now then I won?t have to do it, but then he would know I was a coward and he would never let anybody forget it. I could just tell him I did it and then nobody would know. No, he will be up bright and early to make sure I don?t do that. It?s fine, right? I can do this, right?
I arrived at the side of the shack, it was a well know place for the homeless to kip, until that girl was slaughtered. Don?t know why it has not been torn down yet, it?s basically a arrangement of congregated metal, nobody had lived here for decades. I took a torch out of my sleeping bag and, reluctantly, I went through the doorway and into the shack. It was just one room, along the walls there were lots of different graffiti marks, made by people like me, no doubt. The most noticeable thing in the room was a large cupboard in the corner, large enough to permit entry to somebody my size. I wondered why it was here, it was in pretty good shape and I was surprised it had not been taken yet.
I put my sleeping bag on the muddy floor and extracted the supplies that I brought out with me. Two pillows, a water bottle and a few snacks. I opted to get to sleep as fast as possible so to end this soon. After I had emptied the sleeping bag, I laid it down flat on the floor in such a way that it would permit easy entry. I then pulled it over so I was facing the door; I did this under the assumption that if anything came through the door I would be able to see it and react accordingly, it was very naïve of me. I took the two pillows and laid them down next to the opposite wall from the door. After I had placed the pillows, I noticed something on the wall. I moved in for a closer look and I saw it.
Scratches, scratches that looked like they were made by an extremely angry person.
Or possibly an extremely terrified and desperate person.
No, I shook my head to get such a thought out of my mind. It was just an animal. After a quick bag of crisps and a drink, I got into the sleeping bag (moved a couple of inches to the right to avoid sleeping under the scratch marks) and turned off the torch.
I must have been laid there for about two hour before I managed to get some sleep. But no sooner had this relaxation arrived it was quickly snuffed out as I head the unmistakable sound of crunching leaves outside. I immediately sat bolt upright in my sleeping bag. I reached for the torch, my hand clumsily feeling it way around the floor before I finally grabbed it and shone it around. There was nothing, not even a whisper. I shrugged it off as just a passing cat. I took my water bottle and had a few more sips before I put it back down and prepared to get back to sleep. About ten minutes later, something woke me up.
Footsteps, but not ordinary footsteps. These were not coordinated, not balanced, not human, and they were approaching the doorway. I quickly and clumsily, kicked away the sleeping bag and jumped to my feet. The slouching footsteps were getting closer and a small choking rumble had begun to accompany it. In a panic now, I waved my torch around the room in an attempt to find somewhere to hide. My touch made out the cupboard in the corner of the room, without thinking I ran over to the cupboard, swung the door open crouched inside and slammed the door shut. For ten seconds that felt like ten minutes, silence reigned. But then I heard it, it was scratching against the door of the cupboard. Those horrific scratching sounds on the door, persisted for about fifteen minutes without letting up and I could hear the horrible groan of whatever it was. After fifteen minutes, it began to slow down, get weaker until it stopped altogether. I was curious, but not curious enough to open the door. I sat there with my head in my hands silently cursing myself. Why did I come out here? Why!?
It was probably about eight o?clock when I finally worked up the courage to open the door. Slowly, I applied pressure to the door with my foot. It would not move, as if something was blocking it. I was slightly frustrated and tired at this point so I just wanted to get out of there. I pulled my leg back as far as it could and kicked the door open, pushing whatever was stopping me to one side. Slowly, I emerged from the cupboard, and saw it. It was Mark, dead in front of the cupboard door, his throat cut. I simply stared; I did not know what to do The shock had made me go completely silent. In silence, tears welling up in my eyes, I edged around the room attempting to keep as much distance between me and Marks lifeless body. I noticed the scratch marks against the wall where I had been sleeping earlier. I then looked over to the cupboard, scratch marks almost identical to the ones on the wall. It was abundantly clear what had happened. Mark had been scratching the cupboard while I was in there, but I did not help him. He could have been saved.
And with that thought, I finally found the lung power to scream.

That's nice, I liked the tense feeling the story provoked in me.

 

[CrashTestZombie]

I hate this thread. And I hate that "Go to Sleep" picture.

I woke up at 3:40 a.m. seeing and hearing things. I stayed up until 6:00 trying to get that picture out of my thoughts. Then I decided to make a run for the light switch, and I figured whatever was trying to scare me wouldn't hurt me if I acted as stupid as possible.

Spoiler: I jumped out of bed yelling this, waking up everyone in the house

 

[kroldok]

[http://img713.imageshack.us/my.php?image=1282994669147.jpg]

My family has gathered for christmas, it's me and my parents, so that's three people, also my three sister's are here, two of witch brought their better halves and four small children, so that's twelve people in all and also two cats.
I heard a thump as I read this, and despite all logic telling me it's nothing I cannot help but peek towards the doorway of the room I am in.
I have been switching between this forum thread and the PC game F.E.A.R for the past four days, I am already insane though so I doubt I will get worse....... not much worse.

Thanks for the stories.

 

[David_G]

[http://img713.imageshack.us/my.php?image=1282994669147.jpg]

My family has gathered for christmas, it's me and my parents, so that's three people, also my three sister's are here, two of witch brought their better halves and four small children, so that's twelve people in all and also two cats.
I heard a thump as I read this, and despite all logic telling me it's nothing I cannot help but peek towards the doorway of the room I am in.
I have been switching between this forum thread and the PC game F.E.A.R for the past four days, I am already insane though so I doubt I will get worse....... not much worse.

Thanks for the stories.

You're welcome, it was fun for me, too to read those stories before posting them.

 

[David_G]

Sorry, but already has been posted. Still, it's a great story, it really keeps you on the edge of your seat.

 

[Ultress]

One of my personal favorite creepy pasta stories:

Spoiler: White with Red

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.

This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn?t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, ?Did you look through the keyhole?? The man told her that he had and she said, ?Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.?

Also, if this thread is getting too creepy for you, here's [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIsh1J4FbKU] a palette cleanser of sorts to help you sleep better (it's a video of a cute little girl).

It's the world's creepyist Rick Roll.


As for Scary things the only thing I could put up would be the car commercial but everyone and there dog has probably posted it already. On second thought there is this: http://www.cracked.com/article_15628_the-5-creepiest-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html

 

[David_G]

One of my personal favorite creepy pasta stories:

Spoiler: White with Red

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.

This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn?t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, ?Did you look through the keyhole?? The man told her that he had and she said, ?Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.?

Also, if this thread is getting too creepy for you, here's [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIsh1J4FbKU] a palette cleanser of sorts to help you sleep better (it's a video of a cute little girl).

It's the world's creepyist Rick Roll.


As for Scary things the only thing I could put up would be the car commercial but everyone and there dog has probably posted it already. On second thought there is this: http://www.cracked.com/article_15628_the-5-creepiest-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html

Great choice, mate. Also, there are other parts of that article, and I'd recommend reading through them. They're fascinating, really. Also, while we're on the topic of Cracked, here are other articles I'd recommend:
http://www.cracked.com/article_18381_the-5-creepiest-unexplained-broadcasts.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_16871_6-insane-discoveries-that-science-cant-explain.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_18459_the-5-creepiest-unsolved-crimes-nobody-can-explain.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_18871_12-things-youll-wish-youd-never-seen-under-microscope.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_15816_the-5-most-horrifying-bugs-in-world.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_16868_the-6-deadliest-creatures-that-can-fit-in-your-shoe.html
http://www.cracked.com/article_18471_5-animals-that-are-terrifyingly-hard-to-kill.html

 

[sgtshock]

One of my personal favorite creepy pasta stories:

Spoiler: White with Red

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.

This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn?t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, ?Did you look through the keyhole?? The man told her that he had and she said, ?Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red.?

Also, if this thread is getting too creepy for you, here's [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIsh1J4FbKU] a palette cleanser of sorts to help you sleep better (it's a video of a cute little girl).

It's the world's creepyist Rick Roll.


As for Scary things the only thing I could put up would be the car commercial but everyone and there dog has probably posted it already. On second thought there is this: http://www.cracked.com/article_15628_the-5-creepiest-urban-legends-that-happen-to-be-true.html

I love how people are still getting creeped out by that video 6 months after I posted it.

 

[ReservoirAngel]

Spoiler: Here be some creepy shit

?All it is is an idea, but a lethal one, all it needs is to be in your head, for you to know about it? and you can?t escape?

This was a sentence in my friend?s diary that most caught my attention. He died the other day; he had no family so I inherited his possessions and had been flipping through it, trying to shed some light on what happened. It was a bite to the back of the neck, along with some other scratches and scrapes, the teeth mark apparently was almost like a dog?s but the wound was much too wide. Here are the entries from when it all started, a couple of weeks ago,

February 2nd

I can?t believe I?m letting that stupid story get to me, it wasn?t even scary! But now I?m jumping at the slightest thing and always seem to be alert, my imagination?s getting the best of me too, more than once today I thought I saw something out the corner of my eye, at the risk of sounding cliché, I think I must be over-doing it?

February 3rd

I?m going mad, I must be! All day today I was hearing noises and seeing things, flickers at the end of the corridors, creaks on the floorboards. Anyway, I?ve made an appointment with the doctors and taken a day off work, I?m not about to let a kiddie?s horror story make me lose my senses.

February 4th

I?m not going to the doctor?s, they?ll agree with me, tell me I?m mad, I?ll get locked up, because it?s not a story, it can?t be, three days and I can?t forget about it, and I?m terrified ALL THE TIME! And there?s more? I?ve started to see it, the thing from that story, a couple of times I?ll turn a corner and there it?ll be, huge and dark, like a human with a mad look on his face, but taller and covered in black hair, then I?ll blink or rub my eyes and it?ll be gone, I?m not imagining it, it?s toying with me, oh god I?m so scared?

(It goes quiet for a few days now)

February 10th

Oh god, it?s going to kill me I know it will! I can see it all the time now! It?s always there staring at me like it?s deciding how it will do it! I haven?t left the house in days, every time I go to the door it just stands there between me and the door, with that mad grin on it?s face, and the same if I go near a window or the phone, it won?t let me escape or tell anyone about it, I don?t know why it lets me write in my diary, but it just stands there staring and nodding while I do, come to think of it, I don?t even know why I?m writing in my diary now, it seems so pointless when it?ll kill me soon anyway, oh please, someone help me please!

(Incidentally, I have now figured out the source of my friend?s desire to document his affliction, but more on that later)

February 11th

It?s started getting aggressive now, standing very close and occasionally taking a swipe with black, clawed hands, like a cat playing with a mouse before it kills it. The worst thing is that face. Ever since this started it?s had that horrible face? A huge, mad grin and wide, unblinking eyes, like it?s wearing some terrible Halloween mask, god I wish it would just kill me, I can?t stand any more of this?

(Again there are a few days of silence)

February 15th

This is it. For the first time, its face has changed, it?s opened its mouth revealing rows of long, sharp teeth, now it just sits there, like it?s waiting for me to finish writing. But I?ve figure it out now (and I hope it lets me write this), because all it is is an idea, but a lethal one, all it needs is to be in your head, for you to know about it? and you can?t escape. Looking back, I can remember the fear on my friend?s face when he told me that horror story, it had been tormenting him and now he?s probably dead, but god he is such a t*** for telling me! Because this is what it is, a story, you hear about it and then you can?t get rid of it, and then, before it kills you, you tell someone else and it moves on to a new victim. Well, that?s it, that?s all I can think to write, the creature?s walking towards me now, still showing those terrible teeth? Goodbye, I guess.

This page is splattered with blood, I guess the creature really did kill him once he finished writing. Now back to what I?ve figured out. What my friend didn?t realise was that the creature, apart from scaring the living crap out of you, gets inside your head, subtly influences your decisions. In the case of his friend, making him recount the story onto him, the next victim, and in his own case, making him document the events in his diary, despite the futility of it. This way, the creature is never forgotten and it always has a new victim before the previous one is killed.

Now you might be wondering why I speak of this creature not as if it?s just a story, but as if it?s fact, well, as you should have figured out by now, the next victim was me, in fact it?s here as I type this, standing behind me with it?s hand on my shoulder and it?s teeth bared just like in the last entry of the diary, and because it?s making me publish this for someone else to read, I know what?s about to happen. Soon it?ll kill me and move into its next victim.

Oh god, I?m so sorry, but I had no choice? it?ll be with you soon

That fucked with my brain on 3 different levels.
1) It's just scary as hell naturally
2) I recently started writing a horror story that is incredibly similar to the idea of this and the idea of the creature
3) I have an old Halloween mask that is this giant furry monster face with a massive, giant-sharp-teethed fixed grin and...let's just say opening the cupboard door to have THAT mask fall out at you just after reading this is crap-your-pants-and-cry-for-mummy terrifying.

Oh, and I feel I should extend my praise with this statement: I didn't sleep the night after reading this. I have a pretty overactive imagination, and that, combined with this to fuel it, combined with being slightly scared of the dark, combined with being alone in the house, combined with my house making loads of weird noises...I wanted to flee for my life, but was afraid to go near the front door in case 'it' appeared to stop me.

In short: well done on scaring me shitless.

 

[interspark]

Spoiler: Here be some creepy shit

?All it is is an idea, but a lethal one, all it needs is to be in your head, for you to know about it? and you can?t escape?

This was a sentence in my friend?s diary that most caught my attention. He died the other day; he had no family so I inherited his possessions and had been flipping through it, trying to shed some light on what happened. It was a bite to the back of the neck, along with some other scratches and scrapes, the teeth mark apparently was almost like a dog?s but the wound was much too wide. Here are the entries from when it all started, a couple of weeks ago,

February 2nd

I can?t believe I?m letting that stupid story get to me, it wasn?t even scary! But now I?m jumping at the slightest thing and always seem to be alert, my imagination?s getting the best of me too, more than once today I thought I saw something out the corner of my eye, at the risk of sounding cliché, I think I must be over-doing it?

February 3rd

I?m going mad, I must be! All day today I was hearing noises and seeing things, flickers at the end of the corridors, creaks on the floorboards. Anyway, I?ve made an appointment with the doctors and taken a day off work, I?m not about to let a kiddie?s horror story make me lose my senses.

February 4th

I?m not going to the doctor?s, they?ll agree with me, tell me I?m mad, I?ll get locked up, because it?s not a story, it can?t be, three days and I can?t forget about it, and I?m terrified ALL THE TIME! And there?s more? I?ve started to see it, the thing from that story, a couple of times I?ll turn a corner and there it?ll be, huge and dark, like a human with a mad look on his face, but taller and covered in black hair, then I?ll blink or rub my eyes and it?ll be gone, I?m not imagining it, it?s toying with me, oh god I?m so scared?

(It goes quiet for a few days now)

February 10th

Oh god, it?s going to kill me I know it will! I can see it all the time now! It?s always there staring at me like it?s deciding how it will do it! I haven?t left the house in days, every time I go to the door it just stands there between me and the door, with that mad grin on it?s face, and the same if I go near a window or the phone, it won?t let me escape or tell anyone about it, I don?t know why it lets me write in my diary, but it just stands there staring and nodding while I do, come to think of it, I don?t even know why I?m writing in my diary now, it seems so pointless when it?ll kill me soon anyway, oh please, someone help me please!

(Incidentally, I have now figured out the source of my friend?s desire to document his affliction, but more on that later)

February 11th

It?s started getting aggressive now, standing very close and occasionally taking a swipe with black, clawed hands, like a cat playing with a mouse before it kills it. The worst thing is that face. Ever since this started it?s had that horrible face? A huge, mad grin and wide, unblinking eyes, like it?s wearing some terrible Halloween mask, god I wish it would just kill me, I can?t stand any more of this?

(Again there are a few days of silence)

February 15th

This is it. For the first time, its face has changed, it?s opened its mouth revealing rows of long, sharp teeth, now it just sits there, like it?s waiting for me to finish writing. But I?ve figure it out now (and I hope it lets me write this), because all it is is an idea, but a lethal one, all it needs is to be in your head, for you to know about it? and you can?t escape. Looking back, I can remember the fear on my friend?s face when he told me that horror story, it had been tormenting him and now he?s probably dead, but god he is such a t*** for telling me! Because this is what it is, a story, you hear about it and then you can?t get rid of it, and then, before it kills you, you tell someone else and it moves on to a new victim. Well, that?s it, that?s all I can think to write, the creature?s walking towards me now, still showing those terrible teeth? Goodbye, I guess.

This page is splattered with blood, I guess the creature really did kill him once he finished writing. Now back to what I?ve figured out. What my friend didn?t realise was that the creature, apart from scaring the living crap out of you, gets inside your head, subtly influences your decisions. In the case of his friend, making him recount the story onto him, the next victim, and in his own case, making him document the events in his diary, despite the futility of it. This way, the creature is never forgotten and it always has a new victim before the previous one is killed.

Now you might be wondering why I speak of this creature not as if it?s just a story, but as if it?s fact, well, as you should have figured out by now, the next victim was me, in fact it?s here as I type this, standing behind me with it?s hand on my shoulder and it?s teeth bared just like in the last entry of the diary, and because it?s making me publish this for someone else to read, I know what?s about to happen. Soon it?ll kill me and move into its next victim.

Oh god, I?m so sorry, but I had no choice? it?ll be with you soon

That fucked with my brain on 3 different levels.
1) It's just scary as hell naturally
2) I recently started writing a horror story that is incredibly similar to the idea of this and the idea of the creature
3) I have an old Halloween mask that is this giant furry monster face with a massive, giant-sharp-teethed fixed grin and...let's just say opening the cupboard door to have THAT mask fall out at you just after reading this is crap-your-pants-and-cry-for-mummy terrifying.

Oh, and I feel I should extend my praise with this statement: I didn't sleep the night after reading this. I have a pretty overactive imagination, and that, combined with this to fuel it, combined with being slightly scared of the dark, combined with being alone in the house, combined with my house making loads of weird noises...I wanted to flee for my life, but was afraid to go near the front door in case 'it' appeared to stop me.

In short: well done on scaring me shitless.

awwww, thank you! always good to hear some positive feedback