The Creepypasta thread

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Slender Man, do you want to see a movie with me next weekend?
 
Up until the Zelda thing, I had never heard of Creepypasta. I'm beginning to think it's the most awesomeist thing ever.

ETA: I'm on Episode 5 of Marble Hornets. I am VERY creeped out. :csad:
 
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I finished it, and found the video responses from totheark to really enhance the creepy. I'm gunna make Drak sit through it soon. He was asleep next to me as I was watching it this morning, haha.
 
NotAHenchwench said:
I finished it, and found the video responses from totheark to really enhance the creepy. I'm gunna make Drak sit through it soon. He was asleep next to me as I was watching it this morning, haha.
Click to expand...

awesome :up:
 
Synopsis for my Slender Man trailer.

"Private Investigator "Insert Name Here" receives an anonymous package at his office. No name, no return address, just a VHS tape. This VHS contains disturbing footage of a young man being stalked by a mysterious man. The man is pleading for help, and says he can no longer step outside of his house. Then, for a quick moment, coordinates pop up on the screen, and a simple "Help Me" written in sharpie. This could be the case "Insert Name Here" has been waiting for. "Insert Name Here" and his partner "Insert Other Name Here" travel to the source of these mysterious video tapes, to help the innocent man, and conduct a full investigation of who this stalker could be. But the 'slender man' is more than just an everyday criminal "Insert Name Here" is used to dealing with, and the investigation becomes more horrifying by the minute.

The idea is very broad, and needs a lot of tweaking.
 
I decided I would put a few of my ideas for my own Slender MAn project for review as well:

My idea is it is from the POV of a young woman(my fiance if I get this off the ground), whose husband became obsessed with symbols he found all over town. He tapes all his investigations, and keeps them filed, and eventually starts talking about something following him, watching him. Something terrible. Eventually the trail would lead to finding out that the symbols relate to kids that disappeared over time years ago, relating to the Slender Man stealing children. After more events I haven't decided on yet, the husband and the couple's newborn would disappear and the videos would be of the woman reviewing the tapes and following his trail.
Not sure what kind of conclusion I'm moving towards yet, as no ones videos or Slender Man stories tend to have him stopped, at least not yet.
 
I may borrow a little from other creepy pasta stuff as well, and I just read this, which I hadn't seen posted here.

The Rake:
During the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, humanlike creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed.
Primarily focused in rural New York state, self proclaimed witnesses told stories of thier enounters with a creature of unkown origin. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year.
In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. I’ve been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some exceprts from their upcoming book.
The Rake
A Suicide Note: 1964
As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake. Goodbye.
Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope.
‘Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed for you. He spoke your name.’
A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880
I have experience the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. They saw me and pierced me. His wet hand. I will not sleep. His voice (unintelligible text).
A Mariner’s Log: 1691
He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.
​
From a Witness: 2006
Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.
At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. I appologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. He then grabbed me and said nothing.
After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. It’s body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him.
My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature.
In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband’s face. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while) just looking at my husband. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids’ rooms.
I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.
The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said “he is the Rake”.
My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. He did not survive.
Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either.
For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent’s house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake.
It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. A ship’s log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. That was the last entry in the log.
There were, however, many instances where the creature’s visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.
I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)
On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. What I found was a shrill voice. It was the Rake. I can’t listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. I haven’t let anyone listen to it yet. All I know is that I’ve heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. I don’t remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment.
The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter’s head make me very upset.
I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. I know and fear that one night I’ll wake up to see him staring at me.
 
I'm fairly sure Slender Man only works as one of those unhappy ending horror flicks, where the bad guy wins and everyone dies.
 
JustABill said:
I'm fairly sure Slender Man only works as one of those unhappy ending horror flicks, where the bad guy wins and everyone dies.
Click to expand...
Indeed. And that is probably where it will end. Actually since posting I've decided to tweak the story in a bit of a different direction. But the unhappy ending seems likely.
 
I think I may change it up to the child already being gone, and being like 5 or 6. The first symbols the husband follows come from the last few drawings the daughter left, and the story comes from the POV of the wife putting together his evidence. Possibly, I don't want to get too close to what Marble Hornets has done. Every time I hear TribeTwelve, the words rip and off usually follow.
 
Time for more creepy pasta (unrelated to Slendie)
I was out late at night, returning home from a dinner party with my family. My way home took me past the local cemetery, and I decided to visit the grave of a recently deceased friend of mine. It was rather eerie, walking past all those dark stones and trees in that sea of sepulchers, but I wished to pay my respects.


If only I hadn't. If only I'd kept driving that night, gotten home, and buried myself under the covers. But I didn't. I was a little drunk from the party, and waltzing through a graveyard late at night registered as a fine idea in my mind.


I eventually found my way to his grave, stumbling in the dark. Upon finding that flat chunk of rock that bluntly announced my friend's departure, I was surprised to find a disk there, among the flowers.


This disk didn't have a professional label; it was the kind you could buy by the hundreds, the kind to burn files on. It was in a plain, square case, with no writing on the clear plastic. The only words were scribbled onto the CD's white sticker; using my phone to illuminate the disk, I read the two words scrawled there, hastily and unceremoniously in black marker.


They said, "Dead Fred."


What really perplexed me was the handwriting; it was clearly my friend's. He used to own a video rental store, with hundreds of old VHS tapes that couldn't be found anywhere else. He had written the receipts by hand, and it seemed to match up with the disk's title...and, after his recent suicide, his note had been found, covered in gibberish scribbled on with the same, messy script.


Intrigued, I wondered who had left this here. I hadn't seen anyone with it at the funeral.


Tears were starting to burn my eyes. I missed my friend so much, and this disk must have been something very important to him, to be on his grave like this. Then why hadn't he told me about it? We told everything to each other. It wasn't right for him to keep the secret to himself, carrying it to the grave.


How dare he leave me out?


In a fit of drunken rage, I swatted the tears from my eyes and stormed out of the cemetery, disk in hand.


Only later, when I arrived home and was already popping the disk into my computer, did I realize what I had done. I had taken something off of my closest friend's grave, something I knew nothing about. It wasn't right; this was worse than him keeping secrets from me.


Bitterly, I went to eject the disk before the WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO? OPEN DISK WITH ITUNES, VIEW FILES, etc menu popped on screen when, unexpectedly, a video opened.


This surprised me for two reasons: one, I had assumed the disk had either audio, image, or text files. I hadn't even thought it could be video. Two, it hadn't asked me if I wanted to open the video with so-and-so program. It just started playing.


It was an episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog, my friend's favorite show. I hadn't really ever been into the show myself. I found it very disturbing, and had only watched the first season or so.

So, when the title, "Dead Fred," appeared murkily on screen, I didn't know that something was wrong. I had seen the original "Freaky Fred" episode with my friend once, and I assumed this was just another episode starring the deranged, poetic barber.


Disgusted at myself for taking the disk, I went to exit the video only to find that my cursor was frozen. The keys rendered no assistance either, so I reluctantly turned up the volume on my speakers and started watching the video.


It started out just like "Freaky Fred," with Fred on the bus and Muriel spreading that yellow quilt over the bed. Fred wasn't reciting his poem, though; in fact, there was apparently no audio to go along with the video.


I thought that it must have just been the original episode with the title shooped until I saw Courage. The small dog was looking out a window, glaring down at Fred with a mixture of fear and malice in his eyes.


Courage turned from the window and looked angrily into the distance...then he started having flashbacks. All that **** he had always had to put up with, all the terror, all the abuse...it came crashing down.


Courage was crying in his frantic, animated style as he ran downstairs and to the basement. He started rummaging through a trunk, throwing out various objects (an ugly mask, a shrunken head, and other objects coordinating with the show's signature, disturbing style) until he pulled out a cartoon double-barreled shotgun, tears still streaming down his face.


Lugging the thing upstairs, he stood, aiming it at the doorway, tiny paw on the huge trigger. The adventurous background music started playing; however, the video was still without sound effects.


Muriel ran excitedly downstairs (I guessed that the doorbell had rang, as I couldn't hear anything) and swung it open to greet her nephew.


There stood Fred, with his wide grin and messy hair, looking just as freaky as ever. He opened his mouth to speak, looked down, and saw Courage standing there, trembling shotgun aimed at his chest. A look of shock and fright overcame Fred before a shot rang through the house.


By 'the house,' I mean MY house. The shot was the only thing with sound other than the music, and I shat a brick.


I had just expected a "bang" flag to pop out of the gun, but no. Fred stumbled backwards as cherry-red blood started spouting out of his chest, spraying everything in the house. Fred fell to the floor, dead. Muriel started sobbing. Courage looked horrified at what he had done, and ran upstairs to the bathroom. He was soon locked in, as what happens in the normal episode.


At this point, I was a little shocked. This was disturbing, even for courage. For the next few minutes, Courage sat on the floor, sobbing, fur spattered in blood. Then, words started coming through my speakers, long and low.


"Hello, new friend."


Courage looked up, looked around, and saw nothing.


"My name is Fred."


Courage stood up and spun around. He went to the window, trying to find the source of the voice. Muriel and Eustace could be seen dragging the body to Eustace's truck, a trail of blood streaming behind it. Muriel was still crying.


"The words you hear are in your head."


Courage backs away from the window, looking at the shotgun beside him. The flashbacks return, all the name calling, all the times he'd risked his life to receive no reward, all the horrible things he'd seen. All the things Eustace had done to him, even after he'd tried so hard.


"I say, I said, my name is Fred."


Courage picked up the cartoon weapon, balancing the barrel on the windowsill, aiming down his sights at Eustace's head.


"And you've been very..."


Courage pulled the trigger. In a fraction of a second, Eustace's head exploded into a goopy mess. He dropped on the body of Fred, his falling on top.


"Naaaaughty....."


Muriel screamed mutely. There was no bang of a shot this time, either; the audio was still off, except for the creepy poem.


As courage turned the gun on himself, I yanked the computer's plug out of the wall. I stood up, pacing the room, thoroughly disturbed. My friend's suicide note had only said the word "naughty" several dozen times.


"Hello, new friend."


I jumped. I must've left the speakers on, and just unplugged the computer. Although, the video still should have gone off, so it made no sense.


I went back to turn off my speakers, when I saw that they were off.


"My name is Fred."


I had turned them off after the first gunshot...long before I had started hearing the poem.


"The words you hear are in your head."


They were in my head. And they have been in my head ever since I watched that video.


I can't take it anymore. I'm going insane...have gone insane, I suppose....or maybe I've just gone bad.


It's too much. I'm going now. I had to tell someone, so I'm telling you..


Goodbye, my friend, for I'll be dead.
I'm putting a bullet through my head.
I'm glad that you've read all that I've said.
But, now, I must do something...
Naaaaughty......
Click to expand...
 
As a fan of Courage, that's creepy as hell. As a kid, the original episode scared the crap out of me.
 
even more creepy pasta:


Back in the 1990s, a girl committed suicide after viewing an image posted in an old newsgroup.


The image was of a figure - which some identified as a woman - standing in the middle of a lonely road. The figure is transparent to the point that its legs are barely visible and is illuminated by an unknown light source coming from the direction of the camera. Whether it's headlights, a hand-held flashlight, or the light of the camera itself isn't known for sure, as the actual source of the image has never been identified. No facial features can be made out, but the figure is most easily identified by its long, bony appendages which partly resemble a spider's legs. Those who have seen the image or know of its existence have come to know the figure in it as "The Wanderer."


The first known Wanderer account occurred in 1996. Jane, a college girl who was visiting her family during the holiday season, had an interest in the paranormal. She saw the Wanderer image on a newsgroup along with a message reading, "Do you see me? I can see you too."


Dozens of other users saw the same post. Most didn't think much of it - just that it was somehow "funny." Some actually complained that they experienced headaches while they looked at the image, and similar claims have been made by others since.


According to Jane's family, she suffered from nightmares in the nights after seeing the image. She claimed she would wake up and see the Wanderer outside her window. Sometimes it would scrape the glass with its spider-like limbs, but usually it would just stand there and stare at her. She would find herself unable to move while in its presence, as if many unseen hands were holding her down. Even if she closed her eyes, she would still see it.


Her family was sure she had just been frightened by an image online and was having nightmares as a result until Jane complained of seeing the Wanderer in her waking life as well. She was convinced it was following her. She would see it even while she was in a room full of people or out in public, even though no one else saw anything. Jane's family feared for her sanity, but only assured her that the Wanderer wasn't real.


Jane, however, only got worse. She began going to extreme lengths to stay awake at night. It started out just with caffeine and staying active, but quickly graduated to cutting herself and screaming all through the night. Before long, she wasn't sleeping at all. She was convinced that, if she slept again, the Wanderer would take her.


Her family knew they couldn't just wait and hope for the best. Jane needed help. But when Jane's mother knocked on her daughter's bedroom door, she received no answer. She carefully opened the door, not wanting to disturb or startle Jane, but still she heard nothing.


Jane wasn't in her bed. She wasn't sitting at her computer. She didn't appear to be in her room at all, until her mother checked the closet.


There, Jane was found curled in the corner. Blood reddened the front of her body, having drained from the long slit across her throat. She was clutching a bloodstained note which read, "It can't have me now."


Jane's case is not isolated. Through the rest of the 90s, dozens of others went missing or committed suicide after viewing the image of the Wanderer. Since the turn of the century - despite my best efforts at locating the image - it seems to have disappeared. Recently, though, I posted on a newsgroup asking if anyone had heard of the Wanderer. I've done this many times before and usually there's one or two people who have heard the story, but no one who has seen the image. This time was different. Shortly after posting, I received an email in my inbox.


The subject of the email was, "I CAN SEE YOU." The body only read, "Do you see me? I can see you too."


There was an image attached with the message. I can't verify whether it's the real Wanderer image or not.
Click to expand...
This "Wanderer" reminds me of the Slender man in some ways. I mean ". No facial features can be made out, but the figure is most easily identified by its long, bony appendages which partly resemble a spider's legs." Those are features that some atribbute to the Slender Man.
the "Wanderer" is in fact the Slender Woman.
 
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I just got done reading the Zelda stuff today, and am a bit miffed that the guy came out and said it was all bull, I wish he had kept that going for a while, but it was pretty good.
I found that creepypasta suicide mouse cartoon on youtube, the old Mickey Mouse one, that you are supposed to commit suicide after watching all of it, but the video kept sticking at a certain point, so I could not see it all , hence why I am able to post about it now.
I also found a bit of footage that seemed to match up with that story about the Simpsons episode, that was interesting, but it was only a little bit of it.
 
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