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    Creepypasta in its raw form. Short stories gathered from the internet to creep you out, unnerve you, and to make you question your own mortality...

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    The internet is filled with strange things just below the surface, read about the paranormal websites that lurk online. There is so much more hidden in the internet than just google..

Pokemon Lavender Town Suicides

When “Pokemon” was first released in Japan, there was an odd phenomenon between children ages 7-12, particularly in those using headphones to listen to the sound effects. Increase of nosebleeds, irritability, insomnia, and addiction to the game, playing for hours and hours on end and crying to the point of vomiting when the opportunity was taken away.

Roughly 70% of these cases ended in suicide.

In almost every case of the aforementioned symptoms, despite gameplay time recorded to the limit of the internal clock, the game had not progressed further than “Lavender Town”.

A closer analysis of the game revealed a tone in the audio of the music for “Lavender Town” at a pitch undetectable by fully developed human ear drums. Within weeks every unsold copy of the “first edition” the game were recalled silently and the game was re-released with re-mastered audio for “Lavender Town”.

The widely known version is said to be missing three extra tones, as well as the unique, binaural tone of the first edition, although this is unconfirmed due to the rarity of working first edition copies; in the known few that remain, the internal clock and ‘battery save’ have all timed out and ceased function, and in many cases the game will freeze upon entering any battle.

The details of the story began to be passed around in mid 1997, said to originate from http://www.cornus.lensig.net/index538a.html, a defunct URL without credibility.

YouTube embed is the widely known second edition version of the “Lavender Town” song, if you don’t remember how it sounds or never have known.


Listening to Lavendar Town theme song just now gave me the chills..

Another Creepy Doll

The Scariest Picture On The Internet

Scooby Doo

Okay, so I haven't talked about this in a very long time. This happened to me when I was ten or eleven.

My dad had bought us a Scooby-Doo VHS tape of an episode which I can't fully recall. All I can remember that it was about a little girl's ghost haunting a whole town. Our parents didn't go out very much, since my brother suffers from asthma and they were very protective of him, but one night they had this important party thing and decided to call a babysitter.

I remember getting upset and telling them that I was old enough to take care of my brother, but they didn't listen. They left us with this freckly 15-year old neighbor girl called Amanda or something. Before leaving, Dad gave us the tape, which got us pretty excited, as it would be the first time Dad let us use the VHS player. After they left, we all noticed that the tape was kind of weird; the art on the cover looked hand-made somehow. Scooby looked REALLY terrified and the ghost girl was really creepy. I remember Amanda calling my dad a weirdo for buying such a thing for us, but I assume he just picked up the first tape he saw.

I also remember that Amanda didn't want to play the tape, but after my brother and I insisted for almost an hour, we finally sat in front of the TV to watch the thing. The episode itself was kind of boring; there were almost no jokes and it wasn't that scary, but I do remember being surprised that the ghost from the cover didn't look at all like the one in the video. I don't really remember the plot of the episode; I guess it was pretty much the usual, and Amanda would repeat 'stupid show' every five minutes.

Close to the end, when they got the ghost and were about to unmask her, something weird happened. All of the Scooby-Doo gang stopped talking and looked at the camera with a really sad and serious look on their faces. They stared at us for a very long time in silence; even the background music had stopped. The only person not looking at us was the ghost girl, but she suddenly lifted her head and stared at the camera with her terrible eyes wide open. The final credits came abruptly after that. We all stared at the TV without saying a word until the tape finally stopped. We were shocked.

My brother looked at us and said something like, "Shit...I can't believe Shaggy died. This is so fucked up." We both looked at him, confused, and Amanda asked what he was talking about. He insisted that it was stupid to kill a character and then bring him back to life in the next episode. She got really nervous and told him that Shaggy didn't get killed, that the ghost girl disappeared right after they caught her and the episode finished with the whole gang scared to death. Nothing made any sense; I couldn't understand a thing. When I told them what I saw, Amanda freaked out. She said at least ten times that it wasn't funny and left our house, pissed off and, I assume, scared to her bones like we were.

After discussing for at least half an hour, we decided to put the tape in and watch it again. We turned all the lights on and pushed rewind. The thing is, when we got to the part when they get the girl, the episode suddenly ends. Nothing happens. They get the girl and there is no unmasking, no killing, and no staring. It just ends there. We stopped the tape and ran to our room. My brother had an asthma attack and I stayed by his bed crying and praying he wouldn't die. Eventually, we fell asleep. The next morning, my brother started acting like nothing happened. After insisting for about two days, he told me he never wanted to talk about it again, and that was it.

Damn. I think I actually never told anyone about this. It feels good to share it.

Memory Card

A few weeks ago, my parents were driving up to see my cousins. We always visit them during the summer. On the way there, we drove through a little village. Some church by the road was having a car boot sale. A massive banner told us it was in aid of charity.

My dad parked the car and got out, eager to have a little sniff around. He always had a thing for raking through people's old stuff and finding hidden treasures. While he was off treasure hunting, I decided to go off on my own little wander.

Most of the stuff on sale was the usual crap: cakes, ugly crockery, junk, etc. Someone was holding a raffle. An old woman was painting kids' faces, but only seemed to know how to do one animal; there were zebra-faced kids everywhere.

I remember a couple standing out over all the happiness and sense of community. There was just a man and a woman with dead eyes taking no interest in their customers at all. All they did was just stare into the distance.

Their table was full of kids junk. You know - toys, magazines, crap Playstation games, the usual. There were a lot of those Army Men games. A few sports games, as well. I reckon I missed all the good stuff.

I was losing interest when I spotted an old Playstation memory card out of the corner of my eye. Written on the front in chipped Tipp-Ex was the name SAM. Now this was a real hidden treasure. I bought it from the couple and tucked it into my wallet. Neither said a word or looked at me when they took my money.

After that, I found my parents once more. Eventually, we got back in the car and were once again on our way to my cousins' house. We stayed there for a few days. I enjoy hanging out with my cousins, so I was quick to forget about my purchase. In addition, neither had a Playstation, so it didn't matter anyway.

When I got back home, I retrieved my old Playstation from the attic and set it up. I had kept quite a few games, too. I had all the classics: Resident Evil, Final Fantasy, Tomb Raider, Metal Gear Solid, Future Cop, etc.

However, before I played any of them, I turned on the console without a disc in. I remembered you could do this to check out the contents of your memory card. I stuck Sam's into the slot and selected it.

There were a few save files on it. Some of them were corrupt - just strange symbols hanging there that displayed a strange series of characters instead of details. Others were games I had never heard of.

However, there was one I recognized: Metal Gear Solid. It was the VR Missions disc, to be precise. It said it had been completed 100%. I had both Metal Gear Solid and the VR Missions, so I decided to check it out.

I could remember quite a bit about the VR Missions disc, but the parts that stuck out for me the most were the giant soldiers, the murder mysteries, and the photo shoot mode. I remembered they were actually a lot of fun. I booted the game up.

When I loaded the save, something odd happened: the title music stopped. This sounded especially weird because I had turned up the volume on my TV so I could get right into the game, but there I was, suddenly plunged into silence.

On top of that, there were no sound effects as I scrolled through the menu options. It was a little eerie, but I chalked it up to the game or the console being old and worn out.

I remembered you could wait for Naomi's legs to uncross to take a photo in photo shoot mode and there was nothing there except a black space where a pussy should have been. It was a little empty void left by the creators to disappoint a million pubescent kids. Amused, I loaded up photo shoot mode and selected Naomi as my model.

When the level loaded, I remember thinking the music sounded a little strange. It was nothing eerie, just a little odd. Maybe it was slightly slowed down or something. AGain, I chalked it up to either the game or the console's old age.

I made Snake duck down and looked through the viewfinder, staring at Naomi's crotch and waiting for her to uncross her legs. I was determined to get that snap that had destroyed my perverted hopes and dreams all those years ago.

It took longer than I thought and the first time it happened, I missed it. Waiting again, I almost missed a second time. Luckily, my reflexes had been sharpened by generations of gaming.

Click. Gotcha! A perfect snap of the little black zone where her pussy should have been. I smiled to myself and shook my head. It was funny that I had gotten so excited over something all those years ago.

I was getting a little hungry, so I decided to take a break. I was just about to head downstairs for some food when I noticed something.

I could hear crying. There were little sniffles and short intakes of breath. At first, I had no idea where it was coming from. For a moment I noticed it was behind me. Then I realised it was coming from the game.

I remember getting confused, sitting there to listen to some voice coming from my TV speakers. I just couldn't work out why it was happening. It started getting louder and a little more hysterical. I figured it was coming from Naomi. I tilted the camera upwards, wondering what the fuck was going on. Just as I got to her face, a horrible wail tore from my speakers and scared the shit out of me.

Naomi was screaming at me. I just had time to register her twisted mouth and horrible eyes when I gasped and dropped the controller. It landed on the ground on a button and the game came out of viewfinder mode.

Snake was just kneeling there in front of her. I stood there, shaking, watching the characters seem to stare at one another. I could no longer see Naomi's face. I couldn't tell if she still had that horrible look across it. There was no one in my house. My parents were both still at work. I jumped forward and turned the console off.

A little while later, I was lying on my bed thinking about that horrible face when it dawned on me that the characters in the game don't actually have eyes, just a darker shade of pixels.

Their mouths never opened, either. They just nodded their heads whenever they talked. Naomi's mouth, however, had been twisted open and her eyes were almost photo realistic. What the fuck?

After a while, I convinced myself I had imagined the horrible details. You always do in situations like that. It was just some lame kid's save that he had someone fucked with and managed to scare the shit out of me with. I wondered what else he had managed to do to VR Missions.

Later that night, when I my parents were home, I finally got the nerve to turn the console back on. I selected photo shoot mode and chose Naomi as my model again.

When the level loaded, I knew right away that something was wrong. The stage was empty except for Snake. Naomi was nowhere to be seen. There was no music, either. It was just like the title screen. I ran around a little and the footsteps sounded louder than they should have been. They sounded real, too, like high-quality sound effects recorded in a great hall.

The whole thing was a little unnerving, but I kept telling myself that it was just some whiz kid's stupid experiment. Still, I couldn't shake the horrible sensation that something else was at play.

There was nothing on the stage except Snake. I decided to look through the camera's viewfinder again, to scan the level for, well, anything. Panning around, I realised that all those graphics that usually floated in the background were gone. All of that scrolling information wasn't there. The level was just floating in a black, silent abyss.

Still panning, I suddenly spotted something in the distance: a vague shape in the darkness. Before I could focus on what it was, it was gone. I had no idea what I had saw, but it reminded me of one of those ghosts from Metal Gear Solid you could see if you took photographs in the right places.

However, you could only see them when you left the game and examined the photos in the in-game photo album. They had been really creepy. I remember when I was a kid, I stopped looking for them because one had scared the shit out of me.

Still facing that horrible abyss, I took a photo roughly in the space I thought I saw something. I turned around and started talking photos all around me, a few being where Naomi was supposed to be standing. I left the game afterward. I was relieved to get out of that horrible place.

The menu still wasn't playing any music. There still were no sound effects when I scrolled through, either. I loaded up the photo album and began to shuffle through the pictures.

The first one was of the abyss that surrounded the level, or at least I think that's what it was. It was just a black image with no features. There were a few more like this, too. I remembered you could mess with the colors and contrast, so I played around with it, hoping I would see something. Nothing materialized.

Eventually, I gave up. I scrolled across to the next image - the first shot of where Naomi should have been standing. What I was faced with was something completely different.

It was a picture of a little boy, tied up against a bed. It wasn't an in-game photo, but a real one. It was a real boy on a real bed with real ropes. The picture was slightly pixellated, but nothing compared to the low-resolution of the game. Just at the edge of the picture, I could make out a leg. Someone was standing by the bedside.

Something told me to turn the game off. Something darker told me to scroll to the next photo. I listened to the latter. The next photo made my stomach jump. Gloved hands were holding the boy's eyes open. They were forcing him to look at something off-camera. The boy's expression ws of absolute terror. A part of me was glad I couldn't see what he saw.

I continued scrolling. They were torturing him now - cutting open his skin and mutilating him in ways I won't describe. The photos only became more and more disturbing, never letting up. Each one was worse than the last. They violated him and tortured his young body. I'd never seen anything like it. I never knew humans were capable of such acts.

My body was shaking and my hands could barely hold onto the controller, but I kept scrolling through the pictures. I was unable to stop myself.

I came to another image. I was relieved to see it was no longer of the boy. This relief, however, was short-lived. I squinted at the screen, wondering what exactly I was looking at.

Then it hit me. My insides did a little wet flip and I froze. I dropped the controller again, no buttons being pressed when it hit the floor this time. I was staring at the image, mouthing "what the fuck" to myself over and over. I stayed like that for a while, my body completely functionless as I gaped at the screen.

It was a shot of Naomi with her legs uncrossed. It was the very first photo I had taken after switching on the game. It was the photo that had started this horrible journey. Now, however, I could actually see her pussy. It was a real image of a pussy - not pixelated or anything. It was just sitting right in front of me in incredible detail.

If I were still a teenager, I'm sure I would have been delighted that all my hard work had paid off. I'm pretty sure every kid who tried getting a photo of her snatch back then would have felt the same, especially when compared to the black void that too many of us actually faced. However, I was far from aroused in this situation.

I noticed the pussy was moving, pulsing with every breath as though I was watching a movie instead of an image. It was like some voyeur's spy cam or something and it was squelching.

As I sat there, speechless, blood slowly seeped from the inside, dribbling over her lips and legs and spreading fast. When her pussy was completely caked in red, Naomi finally began to move her body. She was slowly leaning down towards the camera. I really didn't want to see her face, but I couldn't look away.

Then she was screaming and staring at me with those horrible eyes and twisted mouth. She wasn't looking at the camera, but at me. I screamed back before she lunged.

Out of nowhere, I found strength. I watched as my arm shot out from my body and hit the power button. Her scream cut short. The screen went blank. I tore the memory card from its slot and held it as though it was some potent drug. I realised I was breathing heavily. I kept staring at the name SAM in white Tipp-Ex as my lungs gradually relaxed. I never plugged it back in.

That was the last time I ever played VR Missions. I still have the memory card in my drawer, but I daren't open it. A part of me wants to bind the damn thing, but the other part won't let me.

Maybe one day I'll give it another go, just to see how messed up the rest of the game is. Perhaps I'll buy some of the other games and see how fucked up Sam's saves for them are. Maybe I'll try to figure out what games those other, corrupt saves are for. Maybe.

But for now...well...the memory card can stay in that drawer until I'm ready.

More Real Life Pokemon - Gengar


Other posts in this series: Ghastly

Minecraft OGG Files

During the 2010 Halloween update, Notch momentarily had an alternate download link available from the development blog. I decided to update from the blog, rather than let Minecraft update on its own. I simply extracted all of the files from the Winzip file to the game. I was about to leave for an out-of-country trip, so I (unwillingly) had to extract the files, shut down, and leave for Europe without trying the new features.

I returned two weeks later and forgot about Minecraft for a while. I needed to do a project for my Mass Communications class, though, so I wanted some somber melodies to accompany it. Instantly, I thought of Minecraft's bleak tunes and went digging into the Minecraft .ogg files. I chose calm2.ogg for the presentation, but I stuck around to listen to the other songs. In the 'resources' file, there was a folder, all on its own, entitled simply, "New Folder."

I opened the folder to find "ashes1ashes.ogg" and played it in Audacity. There was nothing really heard, just silence and faint clicking noises. I sent the song to a fellow Minecrafter who works professionally with sound editing, but they didn't find anything. I eventually started to play Minecraft again, for the first time in a month. The game updated and I played all night, making portals to the Nether and messing around.

I wanted to listen to 'ashes1ashes.ogg' again, but the folder had been removed upon Minecraft updating. I found the file in my e-mails and downloaded the attachment back onto my computer, this time throwing the song with the other music files. That's when everything went downhill.

I opened up my world to find everything on fire, including myself. My hearts would run out, refill, then run out again. Everything was on fire: the grass, the water, even the pigs and chickens. I tried reloading the world several times, but everything still burned. I deleted the world and created a new one, but that world was on fire as well. I decided to explore a bit and tried playing through a day. It was upon sunrise, the time music generally starts to play, that I heard it.

It was a man, humming a melody, clear as day. I listened to it, through the cracks and pops of the fire. It wasn't any recognizable tune, just something a father would hum to a sleepy child. Halfway through the song, the humming started to break up into a bit of a sob. Finally, the song cut off abruptly and the game shut down. There were no pop-up warnings or title screens. The world was deleted, too.

I searched for 'ashes1ashes.ogg' on the forums, to no avail. I checked the blog and noticed that the alternate download link I used on Halloween had been removed. Then I googled it, producing an angelfire page with two links: 'ashes1ashes.ogg' and 'ashes2ashes.ogg.' The first song produced the same sounds as the ones I had - silence and clicks. Hesitantly, I listened to ashes2ashes.ogg. It seemed to pick up where 'ashes1ashes' had left off. The humming turned almost directly to complete sobbing. The sobbing turned to silence, and and at the end the man spoke something in what seemed to be another language.

I transferred 'ashes2ashes.ogg' to the music folder in Minecraft, and all hell broke loose. Never again.

(Click here to go to the AngelFire site mentioned in the story. You're welcome.)

Out With A Bang

I’ve decided to kill myself.

I think it’s important someone understand why, so I’m making this video before I blow my head off. The first time I remember it happening I was nine. Johnny Weller and I were playing in his back yard. The sun was setting over his back fence, warm oranges and reds shining through the bone-white slats like a creamsicle against pearly white teeth. Johnny was the cowboy and I was the dirty redskin, stealing his horse. We ran around the swingset, him laughing and me whooping and threatening to scalp him. When he tripped, I ran to where he laid in the dirt, scooping up a handful of air, pointing my finger at his nose and proclaimed, “I got your gun now! BANG!"

Johnny’s head exploded in a tremendous blossom of crimson blood, slate-gray brain and chips of skull that sparkled in the setting sun. My hand fell to my side, and I stared, open-mouthed, unable to understand what just happened. Someone was screaming. At first I thought it must be Johnny’s mother, until she tore open the back door and I realized I was the one screaming. Johnny’s mother crumpled against her son’s headless body, adding her broken sobs to my horrified cries.

Johnny’s funeral was the next week, closed casket. I forgot the sparkling light shimmering across the cloud of Johnny’s blood. I forgot Johnny’s mother rag-dolling my little body, begging me to tell her what happened to her son. I forgot the sherrif telling my mother Johnny was hit by a falling bullet, one of twenty six cases each year. I forgot my father’s quiet talks with my mother about how they never found the round that spattered Johnny’s smile across the grass. I adjusted. I coped. I forgot.

I didn’t forget the next time it happened. I never played cowboys and indians again; in fact, I can’t remember a single instance of any shooting game played by little boys anywhere in my childhood. I do remember the little girl in the park, pop pop popping her little nerf balls as she bounced around. She ran up to me, brandishing the weapon and shouting, “Hands up!”

I smiled and complied, dropping my sandwich in mock terror. I lifted my hands to the sky and petitioned for mercy. A true homicidal maniac in the making, she executed me with a flurry of staccato pop pop pops. I dutifully played dead, sprawling across my bench. She giggled and proclaimed, “Your turn. Shoot me!”

A sudden sensation of intense discomfort slithered up my spine. I thought of flowers, glittering crimson roses, wet with morning dew. She eyed me impatiently, apparently convinced she might have to nerf me once more to provoke a response. I lifted my finger weakly, pointed at her and whispered, "Bang".

This time I wasn’t the one screaming. Her mother cradled her baby’s dismembered limbs, frantically clutching an arm, then a leg. I had pointed my finger at the little girl’s belly button. The moment the word left my lips, she ruptured like a water balloon filled with punch and soaking bits of crimson colored fruit. Johnny Weller’s decapitated body filled my vision, the slow red of sunset sliding down the front of his striped shirt. I ran.

I can’t do this anymore. I got pissed at Laura yesterday and put my finger in her face to tell her off. I didn’t even say it. I couldn’t bring myself to sop my girlfriend’s brains off the kitchen floor. I can’t do this anymore.

All I have to do is put my finger against my temple and say it.

At least I’ll go out with a bang.

Guests

Paranoia

Demon

Edward Mordrake

Edward Mordrake was reportedly the 19th century heir to an English peerage. He had an extra face on the back of his head, which could neither eat nor speak, although it could laugh or cry.


Edward begged doctors to have his "demon head" removed, because, supposedly, it whispered horrible things to him at night, but no doctor would attempt it.

He committed suicide at the age of 23.

You may think this is just a creepypasta. It is true.

Source: Edward Mordrake

The Shadow Man Comes

He came to me in my dreams…I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there. The only thing I could see was a shadow. He stood in front of me and behind me, all around me. Fear. He told me that he would go after someone I cared about. I said no, I stood up to him. I told him to come after me instead. Then he spoke. He spoke, but I cannot remember his voice, only the words. “When my messenger comes, you only have a short time until I arrive.” Then I opened my eyes and stood. I looked out the window, and I saw it. The Dancing Wooden Man. He seemed to be made out of logs or something, and his movements were blocky. I knew this was the messenger of The Shadow Man. Then I woke up. Never have I had such a dream, and never has anything scared me so. He is coming. I know it. The next time I see the Dancing Wooden Man, The Shadow Man will come.
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