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Message
1
Posted on 10/17/20 at 9:05 am to BullredsRus
I replied to the post with the story in it.
These no sleep and creepypasta stories are good narratives but almost all of them read like they were written by a 13 year old. Horrible sentence structure, horrible phrasing, weird juvenile language used. It takes away from a lot of them.
Even the God has abandoned us story has some of that weird phrasing.
These no sleep and creepypasta stories are good narratives but almost all of them read like they were written by a 13 year old. Horrible sentence structure, horrible phrasing, weird juvenile language used. It takes away from a lot of them.
Even the God has abandoned us story has some of that weird phrasing.
This post was edited on 10/17/20 at 9:10 am
Posted on 10/19/20 at 10:19 am to Fusaichi Pegasus
I'm a big fan of the "if you hear footsteps,don't look back type stories".
Saw one a couple of years ago about some kids on their way home at night who heard footsteps, looked back and saw a creature with cloven hooves....scared the zhit out of me!
I've looked and looked and can't find it anywhere.
Saw one a couple of years ago about some kids on their way home at night who heard footsteps, looked back and saw a creature with cloven hooves....scared the zhit out of me!
I've looked and looked and can't find it anywhere.
This post was edited on 10/19/20 at 10:20 am
Posted on 10/20/20 at 4:01 am to oogabooga68
quote:
Saw one a couple of years ago about some kids on their way home at night who heard footsteps, looked back and saw a creature with cloven hooves....scared the zhit out of me!
Hearing noises in the dark can frick with you.
I had an uncle with a small plot of land/farm in the center-West part of Puerto Rico that we'd visit on occasion. I used to hate it because, growing up in the urban sprawl of San Juan, it was just so foreign to hear the stillness of the night. No traffic. No late-night-partying neighbors blasting salsa or merengue well past a decent hour.
I guess I grew de-sensitized to all of that clamor; so much so that hearing nothing was un-settling. Out in el campo--the boonies--you'd hear nothing, which really meant you'd hear everything.
There is one occasion that stands out. I'm walking up the long dirt driveway off the main road up to the camp in the dead of night. It's a 3/4 of a mile walk but it seems longer. I start hearing this rustling in the underbrush to one side of me. I figure it's a snake or some small animal. It doesn't sound large but it's dark and your mind fricks with you so I increase my pace. It doesn't seem to grow fainter so I start a light jog. It's not getting any fainter. I realize it's keeping pace with me. My 12 year old mind starts cycling through a catalog of folklore: I'm talking chupacabra to Jersey Devil.
I finally just book it and as I get to the top of the driveway the rustling stops. Just as I start to calm down I hear a woman scream. My uncle is having a heart attack.
Posted on 10/20/20 at 7:09 am to The Boat
quote:
These no sleep and creepypasta stories are good narratives but almost all of them read like they were written by a 13 year old.
Because they were...
Posted on 10/20/20 at 12:47 pm to Fusaichi Pegasus
The catholic religion and their centuries old bull shite of touching little boys. Sad that anyone would follow that cult these days and then defend it.
Posted on 10/21/20 at 8:33 pm to Jorts R Us
damn son
Posted on 10/21/20 at 9:30 pm to magildachunks
quote:
Also, the machete attacks in the early nineties that are believed to be committed by DTL, the boy in the attacks lived at the corner of my street. He and his girlfriend were in the cemetary parked and making out(I don't know why the cemetary, but hey, different strokes I guess) and he opened the door and starting slashing away at them. The boy got the brunt of the attack as he flung himself over the girl to protect her.
I met the girl several years after this happened. I noticed a real bad scar on her ankle which struck up the conversation. The most chilling part of her story was while he was hacking them with a machete - the boy friend was incapacitated - she scream “take my car keys!” He simply and calmly replied “I don’t want your keys” and kept attacking until approaching police car lights scared him off.
Posted on 10/21/20 at 10:50 pm to RDOtiger
I thought for sure I had posted being stalked in the woods in this thread but I can't seem to find it.
It's been almost exactly 20 years and I still don't go to that spot at night
Eta:
In case it wasn't here.
As a teenager, we were wild. Country wild. We'd all grab shotguns and take off walking literally shooting anything. We'd pile on a 4 wheeler and end up miles into the woods with no water or supplies at all. Just country kid stuff.
So one night we take off into the woods on fourwheelers. No real destination. Just stopping every now and again to smoke.
So we get about as far from the house as we can be. Cross through a fair amount of mud, cross a small bridge, and park on a high spot.
So we're standing there smoking. Shooting the shite. Harassing the hell out of each other for no real reason. It's almost pitch black except for the cigarette cherries and whatever moonlight is filtering through.
And all of a sudden we hear a pop. But not the sound of a branch breaking. Almost like the sound of an arm sized sapling getting caught between a wheel and axle. A built up force and then a loud POP as it all let's go at once. It's quiet just long enough for us to realize it wasn't an accident.
And then there's a crash. Like a wrecking ball going through the trees 10ft off the ground. Just popping and crashing. But it's headed toward us.
We jump on the bikes and take off, and promptly get stuck. And shove out. Then get stuck. For a solid quarter of a mile we struggle to make any real speed. But we keep hearing it.
We haul arse back to the house a few miles away. Everyone is creeped out.
But I'm bothered by it. It doesn't make sense. Even as a kid I had to be logical. So everyone leaves the next day, I grab a gun. Don't tell anyone where I'm going, and ride back there. Get to the spot and I can see that no trees have fallen... But 8+ feet in the air branches are broken. Big branches. Green branches. Just snapped off with zero effort.
There is nothing in south Louisiana with the size and strength to do it and not leave tracks on the ground. A pissed off bear could have the strength, but not moving gracefully through branches of that size at that height. And there isn't a bear on the planet that can cleanly bust an arm sized sapling.
To this day, if I'm in the woods I have some means of protection. A gun or a very heavy blade.
Creeped out just thinking about it.
It's been almost exactly 20 years and I still don't go to that spot at night
Eta:
In case it wasn't here.
As a teenager, we were wild. Country wild. We'd all grab shotguns and take off walking literally shooting anything. We'd pile on a 4 wheeler and end up miles into the woods with no water or supplies at all. Just country kid stuff.
So one night we take off into the woods on fourwheelers. No real destination. Just stopping every now and again to smoke.
So we get about as far from the house as we can be. Cross through a fair amount of mud, cross a small bridge, and park on a high spot.
So we're standing there smoking. Shooting the shite. Harassing the hell out of each other for no real reason. It's almost pitch black except for the cigarette cherries and whatever moonlight is filtering through.
And all of a sudden we hear a pop. But not the sound of a branch breaking. Almost like the sound of an arm sized sapling getting caught between a wheel and axle. A built up force and then a loud POP as it all let's go at once. It's quiet just long enough for us to realize it wasn't an accident.
And then there's a crash. Like a wrecking ball going through the trees 10ft off the ground. Just popping and crashing. But it's headed toward us.
We jump on the bikes and take off, and promptly get stuck. And shove out. Then get stuck. For a solid quarter of a mile we struggle to make any real speed. But we keep hearing it.
We haul arse back to the house a few miles away. Everyone is creeped out.
But I'm bothered by it. It doesn't make sense. Even as a kid I had to be logical. So everyone leaves the next day, I grab a gun. Don't tell anyone where I'm going, and ride back there. Get to the spot and I can see that no trees have fallen... But 8+ feet in the air branches are broken. Big branches. Green branches. Just snapped off with zero effort.
There is nothing in south Louisiana with the size and strength to do it and not leave tracks on the ground. A pissed off bear could have the strength, but not moving gracefully through branches of that size at that height. And there isn't a bear on the planet that can cleanly bust an arm sized sapling.
To this day, if I'm in the woods I have some means of protection. A gun or a very heavy blade.
Creeped out just thinking about it.
This post was edited on 10/21/20 at 11:14 pm
Posted on 10/21/20 at 10:59 pm to X123F45
quote:
I thought for sure I had posted being stalked in the woods in this thread but I can't seem to find it.
We need the deetz
Posted on 10/21/20 at 11:33 pm to Jorts R Us
This is pretty tame I guess, skip if you don't want a CSB.
I worked in Nevada doing biological field work. We would get sent out to different coordinates around the state, usually in remote locations. Usually primitive camping. It's a group of about 10 of us on the crew and we get sent out in teams of two for two ten day rotations and then switch up partners. After the first rotation I switched over with a team of a 22 year old woman and a 40ish year old guy. They told me this story and field supervisor confirmed.
They drive way out, a couple of hours off the paved road back to a ranch the organization has an agreement with. This guy comes out and tells them he is the caretaker and they can camp in this one spot. He leaves and comes back a couple of hours later. He compliments the girl on how pretty she is, then he starts talking about how "the boys" used to bring women over from Utah and rape them over on the ranch. Then he started talking about how many cars there are out there that have been dumped with a body in them. Starts talking about how he thinks the two biologists will be having sex later. A bunch of other creepy shite that slipped my mind in the time since. Then, after dark, he says he is going to Vegas but he will be back that night. They know Vegas is too far to drive out to and get back in the same night, as soon as he drives off the 40 year old guy looks at the girl and says "we are leaving now". They leave their gear and everything behind, get to cell service and call the cops. The locals say "He's full of shite, he's a big talker, don't sweat it". They go back at first light and they can tell he went through all their stuff that night. The organization took the ranch off their survey area and that was all I ever heard about it.
I worked in Nevada doing biological field work. We would get sent out to different coordinates around the state, usually in remote locations. Usually primitive camping. It's a group of about 10 of us on the crew and we get sent out in teams of two for two ten day rotations and then switch up partners. After the first rotation I switched over with a team of a 22 year old woman and a 40ish year old guy. They told me this story and field supervisor confirmed.
They drive way out, a couple of hours off the paved road back to a ranch the organization has an agreement with. This guy comes out and tells them he is the caretaker and they can camp in this one spot. He leaves and comes back a couple of hours later. He compliments the girl on how pretty she is, then he starts talking about how "the boys" used to bring women over from Utah and rape them over on the ranch. Then he started talking about how many cars there are out there that have been dumped with a body in them. Starts talking about how he thinks the two biologists will be having sex later. A bunch of other creepy shite that slipped my mind in the time since. Then, after dark, he says he is going to Vegas but he will be back that night. They know Vegas is too far to drive out to and get back in the same night, as soon as he drives off the 40 year old guy looks at the girl and says "we are leaving now". They leave their gear and everything behind, get to cell service and call the cops. The locals say "He's full of shite, he's a big talker, don't sweat it". They go back at first light and they can tell he went through all their stuff that night. The organization took the ranch off their survey area and that was all I ever heard about it.
Posted on 10/22/20 at 1:23 am to tiger114
quote:
The next day I looked through the previous owners Facebook page and saw old pictures of their daughter. Then asked my daughter to describe the girl in her room. Everything was a perfect match.
Damn
Posted on 10/22/20 at 5:02 am to Fusaichi Pegasus
quote:
Need to Kill Time: What's a story that you've heard that still gives you chills
Joe Biden could be president!
Posted on 10/22/20 at 7:04 am to Revelator
quote:
Need to Kill Time: What's a story that you've heard that still gives you chills
quote:
Joe Biden could be president!
That's the scariest story so far in this thread. But I can top it.
Kamala Harris could be president.
Posted on 10/28/20 at 7:06 am to Fusaichi Pegasus
Bump-en-stein.....
Posted on 11/28/20 at 10:03 am to oogabooga68
Bump for ol baw
Posted on 1/27/21 at 6:34 pm to TDcline
Bump for the current post about things you can't explain.
Posted on 1/28/21 at 7:18 pm to oogabooga68
After Hurricane Katrina there was a girl in our friend group whose home in Metairie was destroyed. Her family moved into her deceased great uncle’s house Uptown (it was way down St. Charles ). We all were seniors in HS at the time when Katrina hit. Her family was moving out of state in the summer of 2006 and so her parents were gone for the most part house hunting, etc. Anyway, that house became the place our group hung out: spent Mardi Gras there, etc.
The house just had an unsettling feel to it though. It was very old, big and felt hollow when you were in there. It was decorated as though it was stuck in the 70s or 80s. There was a decently heavy screen door that you had to open in order to open the front door.
Anyway, one day in the Spring, a few of us are in the TV room in the back watching a movie. Middle of the day on a Saturday. All of a sudden, we hear a slight rustling noise and then hear the screen door slam shut. We rush to the front, open the door and step out on to the porch only to see a guy with long hair (think Weird Al Yankovic style), a trench coat and a soft leather duffel bag walking very briskly away from the house.
My friend called out, “What’s in the bag, man!?!?” But the guy never turned around and just started moving away from the house even faster. Perhaps he just had the wrong house and was ashamed of the mistake but it still gives me shivers to think if that was not the case. Or worse yet, if we had somehow forgotten to lock the front door (could have been very possible). We were all pretty shaken by that except for the girl who lived there who only shrugged her shoulders and said, “That’s Uptown.”
The house just had an unsettling feel to it though. It was very old, big and felt hollow when you were in there. It was decorated as though it was stuck in the 70s or 80s. There was a decently heavy screen door that you had to open in order to open the front door.
Anyway, one day in the Spring, a few of us are in the TV room in the back watching a movie. Middle of the day on a Saturday. All of a sudden, we hear a slight rustling noise and then hear the screen door slam shut. We rush to the front, open the door and step out on to the porch only to see a guy with long hair (think Weird Al Yankovic style), a trench coat and a soft leather duffel bag walking very briskly away from the house.
My friend called out, “What’s in the bag, man!?!?” But the guy never turned around and just started moving away from the house even faster. Perhaps he just had the wrong house and was ashamed of the mistake but it still gives me shivers to think if that was not the case. Or worse yet, if we had somehow forgotten to lock the front door (could have been very possible). We were all pretty shaken by that except for the girl who lived there who only shrugged her shoulders and said, “That’s Uptown.”
Posted on 1/28/21 at 7:26 pm to Circle K Beggar
Thanks for actually posting a story. Instead of random bumps with nothing to add. 
I need to reread this thread start to finish one day. One of the best ever on the site.
I need to reread this thread start to finish one day. One of the best ever on the site.
Posted on 1/28/21 at 9:30 pm to CocomoLSU
I was a couple of years old when Adam Walsh (son of John Walsh from America's Most Wanted) was kidnapped and murdered. That was a huge story in the early '80s.
For those of you who aren't familiar with the story, Adam Walsh was a young boy (about 6-7 years old) who was kidnapped outside of a Sears store in Hollywood, FL., in 1981. He was inside watching some teenage boys play video games while his mom was shopping a couple of aisles over. The boys got a little too loud or rowdy and a store employee kicked them out, and Adam walked out too. While he was outside, someone kidnapped him.
His mom panicked when she couldn't find him, of course, and his parents went to the police and all that jazz and people searched all over for him. A couple of weeks later his head was found in a canal. The rest of his body was never found. It's believed that a man named Ottis Toole murdered him, but that's not known with certainty.
Because of that story, parents everywhere were very paranoid and protective of their kids. About 3-4 years after this I was about 5-6 and asleep in my room one night. I don't remember it all firsthand, but I woke up to a noise and called for my mom. She came in and turned on the light and I told her about the noise. She looked out the window and didn't see anything, but she took me into my parents bedroom and I spent the rest of the night with them. The next day my parents noticed that the screen on my window had been removed and someone had tried to break in. It was a while before they let me sleep in my own bed again.
For those of you who aren't familiar with the story, Adam Walsh was a young boy (about 6-7 years old) who was kidnapped outside of a Sears store in Hollywood, FL., in 1981. He was inside watching some teenage boys play video games while his mom was shopping a couple of aisles over. The boys got a little too loud or rowdy and a store employee kicked them out, and Adam walked out too. While he was outside, someone kidnapped him.
His mom panicked when she couldn't find him, of course, and his parents went to the police and all that jazz and people searched all over for him. A couple of weeks later his head was found in a canal. The rest of his body was never found. It's believed that a man named Ottis Toole murdered him, but that's not known with certainty.
Because of that story, parents everywhere were very paranoid and protective of their kids. About 3-4 years after this I was about 5-6 and asleep in my room one night. I don't remember it all firsthand, but I woke up to a noise and called for my mom. She came in and turned on the light and I told her about the noise. She looked out the window and didn't see anything, but she took me into my parents bedroom and I spent the rest of the night with them. The next day my parents noticed that the screen on my window had been removed and someone had tried to break in. It was a while before they let me sleep in my own bed again.
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