Previously HellsYeaCreepyShit.tumblr.com

This is a personal photo I wanted to share of my worst idea of...

Fri, 17 May 2013 12:06:40 -0500

This is a personal photo I wanted to share of my worst idea of 2013. Yea I’m the smart guy that thought these ASSHOLES could behave themselves in the yard with a sprinkler on. Pffft yea….

I found mud on my bathroom celing this morning.

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Fri, 17 May 2013 12:02:21 -0500

eeriie: Charlie Noonan was an amateur folklorist who travelled...

Fri, 17 May 2013 12:01:55 -0500

eeriie:

Charlie Noonan was an amateur folklorist who travelled throughout the South and Southwestern United States during the early years of the 20th century, collecting tall tales and stories of the supernatural. According to his wife, Ellie, Charlie was told a story one day by an Oklahoma farmer about a strange woman who lived alone on an isolated property in the panhandle. The farmer claimed the woman was not a woman at all, but something else, something that hid its true nature beneath a headscarf and was never seen without a large dog by its side. Noonan was apparently intrigued enough to try searching for the woman during one of his research road trips. He was never seen again.

Ellie Noonan was later contacted by a Tulsa pawnbroker who remembered reading about her husband’s disappearance in the papers, after finding his name engraved on a camera sold to him by an itinerant. The pawnbroker returned the camera, and Mrs. Noonan had the film inside developed in the hopes of finding a clue as to his whereabouts. This was the only photo on the roll. Unfortunately, neither the location of the property, nor the name of the farmer who told him the story was recorded in Noonan’s notes.

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Thu, 16 May 2013 16:05:56 -0500

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Thu, 16 May 2013 16:04:44 -0500

Prey (CreepyPasta Narrated by GettinSpooky)

Thu, 16 May 2013 14:57:06 -0500

Prey (CreepyPasta Narrated by GettinSpooky):

Written by John R. I really, really, really hope you guys like my version of “Prey” such a good story and i worked really hard on it..

I'm uploading Prey right now....i worked really hard on it, i hope you like it!!!

Thu, 16 May 2013 13:56:34 -0500

I’m so excited for you to hear it!

fearof-theunknown: Famous/Historical Ghosts Thelma Todd: A...

Wed, 15 May 2013 23:33:42 -0500

fearof-theunknown:

Famous/Historical Ghosts

Thelma Todd: A captivating actress of breathtaking beauty, Thelma Todd’s dead body was discovered on December 16, 1935, in her car inside the garage of Jewel Carmen, an eminent American silent film actress. Till the date, it’s a subject of speculation that what was the exact reason of her death – suicide or murder. The cafe in which she partied for the last time was torn down and currently the land is under the possession of a production company but there have been reported sighting of her ghost, walking down the staircase of building. Moreover, the garage in which she died is said to produce noises of car’s engine. It’s a matter of fact that there were no cars inside when these sounds were reported.

Orson Welles: The undisputed leader of movie making, acting and screenwriting, Orson Welles was fond of spending his spare time at Ma Maison restaurant. 26 years have passed since he died and his favorite restaurant has been now transformed in Sweetlady Jane Bakery. This quaint bakery is famous for its “tea and crumpets” type of environment, resonating with small crowd. According to the employees of this bakery, Orson’s ghost still sits on the corner table in impeccable black suit with wide-brimmed hat. However, the appearance of his ghost is generally spotted for few seconds but the smell of his favorite cigar and brandy dwells in the environment for a long time, remarking the presence of an uninvited guest.

George Reeves: In the wee hours of June 19, 1959, the globally acclaimed Superman was found dead in his bedroom with a wound of gunshot in his head. However, this incident was ruled as a case of suicide by cops but till the date it is believed that this American macho man was murdered. After the sad departure of Reeves, his Benedict Canyon home was sold to new owners but surprisingly the Superman’s ghost decided to stay in the premises. The old room in which he was discovered dead is said to produce strange noises of a man, seeking help. Some folks have also reported his shadow in Superman’s attire, swaying in the building here and there.

Elvis Presley: An accumulate illustration of glamour, Elvis Presley set all the standards essential to be a king of rock n’ roll. After dying of heavy drug intoxication on August 16, 1977, there have been reported sighting of his ghost in an old building of Nashville which was once used to to record his super hit track Heartbreak Hotel. It is said that whenever his name is mentioned in the building, eerie activity picks up. Falling of ladders, exploding of lights and unexplained bangs in the dark corners are some of the common phenomenons related to king’s spirit.

Abraham Lincoln: After Lincoln’s assassination in 1865, his ghost began appearing to the guests and workers of White House. The big old house is believed to be the eternal abode of America’s 16th President. Lincoln’s ghost with shambling and sad face has been spotted numerous times in different halls and rooms of the White House. By all accounts of Grace Coolidge, wife of President Calvin Coolidge, she spotted his ghost at the window of Oval Office amid the chills of night air. In another incident as per described by Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands, she heard someone knocking the door of her room gently and when she approached the door, she saw President Lincoln who took off his hat and vaporized from the spot.

Adolf Hitler: The most fearsome figure that ever lived on this earth in still dwelling in Bavarian mountain retreat house in the form of aimless spirit. According to German historians, his ghost can be seen walking around the ruins of his mountain home with expressions of despair and dejection. Some people have seen him sitting on an armchair and gazing the mountains in a purposeful manner. The silence of ruins is often penetrated by his loud voice, giving orders to his men.

Marilyn Monroe: Counted among one of the most prolific stars of cinematic world, Monroe still marks her invisible presence in the lobby of Hollywood’s Roosevelt Hotel. A wide number of visitors and hotel employees believe that she still lingers in the full-length mirror which was decorated in her suite. They have also noticed her dancing in the ballroom of hotel. Many even claim that the spirit of this drop dead gorgeous lady plays a bugle while moving around on the 8th floor.

notadoge: Screenshots of monsters from Slender Fortress. SCP is...

Wed, 15 May 2013 23:22:57 -0500

slendy

don't blink, motherfucker

he really likes hugs

notadoge:

Screenshots of monsters from Slender Fortress. SCP is there as well, but I forgot that. You end up with Slenderman and The Rake the most.

Don’t worry, all of these were caught when I was in ghost mode.
(a mode that enables you to travel with the current players without being seen by them or getting hurt.)

looooook at my new toy!!!!

Wed, 15 May 2013 18:09:31 -0500

looooook at my new toy!!!!

SaNtA ClAuS

Wed, 15 May 2013 18:03:21 -0500

creepypasta that i finally linked to you ^^”

Moving to an old apartment in the city was a big thing for me, it was a way to show my parents that I was an adult and I could look after myself. We had talked about what I would do if things were to go wrong like a burglary, fire and things that my parents could see me being stupid enough to let happen.

They always said if something was to go horribly wrong, that the world is full of people and somewhere, one of those people will be willing to help.

I only wish that were true.

Never to this day can I explain what happened without doubting myself, I mean it sounds like maybe I had just had a bad dream, a nightmare and I had fooled myself into believing it was true….i am not going to deny, it was a nightmare, but this nightmare was real and it happened to me.

I remember sitting on my couch, dark shadows hung over the room; they hung over the lone armchair I sat in and coated the TV with darkness. The breeze was cold, not the chilly blanket and coffee type, but the type that send tremors over your body, as if taunting you that at any given second something terrible could happen.

I had risen to my feet and trudged to the kitchen to make a strawberry shake to try to liven the dull grey shades of the apartment. The dullness of the empty streets and flickering street lights had started to take its toll, a sharp knock at my door and seemed to perk me up slightly, the thought of some company or just having something to do. I walked to the door and swung it open to come face to face with a blinding light.

The light glared at me for a minute before sweeping behind me giving me the view of three police officers which was never good. “Excuse me mam, we have had word of a of murderer which escaped from the local mental institution, we believe he may be in this apartment block or the next so would you please grab a jacket or something to keep you warm and come with us so we can take you somewhere where you won’t be in harm’s way” I could clearly see the panic in his eyes which only sped me up.

I nodded and ran through to my bedroom, grabbing my jacket and slipping on my dirty converse, sitting on my bed I quickly. I walked back to the door reminding myself to breath, it just didn’t feel real.

There on the welcome mat lay three mangled bodies.

The one at the front, the one who had greeted me, was now impossible to recognize His shoulders were bent towards the sky (clearly dislocated) and his palms flat on the floor near his…what was his face. His eyes were seeping blood and the blacks of his pupils had clearly been dug out with a knife, his scalp had been peeled back and his leg that had been hacked off by the knee was stuffed down his throat with only his ankle and foot sticking out his mouth. A small blood red parcel sat on his back.

I ignored it as my survival instincts kicked in.

There was only one exit so only one of us was getting out here alive.

A deep laugh echoed through the long stair case and the piercing screech of metal on metal battered of the walls.

My head whipped side to side and I dashed to the side, I threw the trash store closet doors open crawled onto the open trash can, grimacing as my hand sunk into something wet and squishy , then I pulled the doors back in place but inched it open so I could still see.

My heart felt like it might break a rib or snap off and go bouncing around my body at this rate.

Finally, the figure stumbled around the corner and I could finally see who this person was. He was very overweight but not in a “beer belly” fashion, more like someone and inflated him with a pump, he looked like he could pop, explode everywhere, showering everything with his blood.

He wore a red suit that hung off his left side, exposing his green tinted skin and black boots what were blood covered and had what looked to be pink cauliflower hanging off them.

A torn up hat sat on his head, his face appeared to have no facial features apart from two black abysses

That seemed to ooze thick black liquid that dripped down his inflated cheeks. Also what used to be his lips were now torn away completely, leaving rotting; sharp teeth open to the harsh breeze.

He dragged a red splattered sack behind himself as he limped up to the next door next to mine.

He pulled out an old rusty axe from the sack and tapped lightly on the cheap wood.

As soon as the door swung open and the thing was inside, sounding the first pained scream, I took it as my queue to run. I flung open the doors and fell out onto the metal floors clumsily before stumbling forward and jumping down the stairs.

Flinging open the apartment doors, I raced onto the street that was barely lit by the crappy back ally oil lamps. I slowed down a little, catching my breath. I jogged into the street to find it completely deserted!

I ran to the closest house and banged furiously on the front door. Suddenly the door swung opened and there it stood, in the doorway. He resembled something close to a zombie Santa Claus, something that only appeared in horror movies.

He raised a knife high above his face and growled in a contorted, almost electronic voice, he hissed “Santa Claus is coming to town”. Just then all the light went out.

People said I had tripped on my way home from the blackout, people said I murdered all the police men, some even said that it was just an old legend but I know it’s true, it has to be, or why else would I be so terrified of that one sentence?

Why would when I’m all alone, hear the sound of a dragging sack?

Why would I still bare the knife scars that spelled out “naughty list” on my back?

Why would every night, before I go to sleep, here the breathy, and contorted almost electronic voice hiss in my ear

“Santa Claus is coming to town”

You're my fave blog :D! 10/10

Wed, 15 May 2013 18:02:50 -0500

oooooooh ty!!!

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Wed, 15 May 2013 14:56:07 -0500

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Wed, 15 May 2013 14:03:02 -0500

c1tylight5: Another world | Gif by c1tylight5

Wed, 15 May 2013 13:59:00 -0500

c1tylight5:

Another world | Gif by c1tylight5

“Come play with me.” That line…it’s a cliché for the horror...

Wed, 15 May 2013 13:50:36 -0500

“Come play with me.” That line…it’s a cliché for the horror genre, is it not? You all know what I mean, the unsettling apparition of a child, or maybe just the voice, beckoning to you. What is it about children that gives them the ability to be so damn creepy? Maybe…maybe it’s the fact that, generally speaking, children are helpless and anyone with a nurturing side to their personality wants to help them and care for them. I mean, if any one of us saw a child in trouble, I’m sure we’d rush to help in whatever way we could…and in normal circumstances, if a child said “come play with me” someone might just pass a ball around for a minute or two, maybe play hopscotch. Children are innocent, right? Safe enough to play with a child, right? I’m telling you you’re wrong.

This isn’t something I like to tell people, in fact it’s something only my mother and I know, but over the past few months it’s been building up inside of me…this urge to tell…someone. I need to tell someone what happened, even if it was nearly thirteen years ago.

This isn’t a story I’d consider telling people, but not because I’m afraid they’d think me crazy. I couldn’t give a damn about that. I don’t tell people this because it brings back some pretty painful memories for me, and even now as I’m writing this, it’s hard to talk about.

Anyway…I’ve avoided this long enough, it’s time. When I was a small girl, I lived in a trailer park with my mom and dad. I was an only child, and I had a normal life, for the most part. I don’t remember much. As I said, I was a small child. What I do know is that one night, my mother and father got into a big fight over dinner which resulted in my father throwing whatever my mother had cooked outside the back door and yelling at me, kicking me across the room at one point. The man had a temper, that was no secret, but he wasn’t usually like this, at least not around me. I don’t blame him or hate him for any of this, and to this day I’ll do anything to defend him. I love my father. However, this incident was a turning point for my mother. The next night when my father went to work, my mother told me we were going on a trip. She packed a small bag of my clothes, one of hers, and told me to grab anything else I might want. All I took was a small stuffed cat named Buttons that my father had given me for my first birthday. She called a cab and we went to a motel room for a few days. After that, she told me that we’d be moving into a new home called a “shelter.” She said there’d be other kids there, probably some of them around my age, and that I’d like it there.

She was right about there being other kids my age, and the house was beautiful. It was huge, with a playground out back and lots of room to run around. What I remember most though was the staircase.

I made friends quickly with all the kids there, but the one I liked talking to most was Sarah. Sarah was quiet and she always wore a dress and always stood at the top of the stairs and talked to me. She never did anything else really, and she didn’t talk to anyone else. I never went up to her, I just stood at the bottom and we’d talk like that. Sarah didn’t really like the other kids very much because she said they weren’t like us. She said they didn’t know what it was like to think like us. She didn’t really like that I played with the other kids, but she didn’t try to stop me either. She said she only wanted to play with me.

Not long after moving in, I met three kids that lived in the house next door. One of them was my age, the boy, and the two sisters were a little bit older. My mom said it was a good idea to get out of the house and go play with them for a while, so I did. They invited me to come inside and see their playroom, so of course I did. That sounded awesome! I’d never had a “playroom” of my own…a room especially made for playing? It sounded great!

The room itself was fairly empty except for a toy chest in the corner and several toys strewn on the carpeted floor. The walls were bare white, like the rest of the house, and the windows stood without a curtain just opposite the door. When we were in the playroom, the oldest sister walked over to the window and stared out, shaking her head. “Do you know what happened over there?” she asked. I walked over to where she was and looked to where she was pointing. She was pointing at the shelter, right in the window facing the one in the playroom. I shook my head. What did she mean? What happened there? “Do you wanna know?” She asked me, her brother and sister silent now. I simply nodded, keeping quiet so I could hear the story. “A long time ago, there was a little girl named Sarah who lived there…that was her room,” she said, pointing to the room across from where we stood. “Well…one night there was a fire. No body made it out. She almost did…they said they found her body at the top of the stairs, and that’s where she died.” I felt like I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to look out the window anymore. I couldn’t. “They remodeled the building a couple years ago,” she said, matter of fact.

“Stop being a know it all with your big words!” her brother said.

“Oh…” I said. That’s all I could say. Lucky for me, it was starting to get dark, and my mom came over to bring me back with her. I didn’t want to tell her because she might not let me play with my new friends again. I didn’t want to tell Sarah either. I stayed as far away from the stairs as I could.

The next night, the other family who lived in the house told us she and the kids would be gone for a couple of days. This meant that mom and I were, more or less, alone. I wasn’t feeling well, so a little break from other people would be nice. I laid down on the couch and mom turned the tv on for me, sitting at the other end of the couch. She asked me if I wanted to go upstairs to our room…I said no. I wanted to stay downstairs.

I must have fallen asleep. I can still remember that breathing was hard, my nostrils feeling crusty from running so much during the day. I woke up in the middle of the night to the fire alarm going off. Mom woke up around the same time I did and picked me up, carrying me outside. I heard sirens of fire trucks in the distance. I was pretty out of it when they got there, but I still remember what they said to my mom after they’d gone inside. They’d said “we couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary…I don’t know why the alarm went off.” How could it have been set off by just nothing? My mom said it was “probably just the weather” and took me back inside. I remember as she carried me back to the couch that I saw Sarah standing at the top of the stairs, watching me. I started to cry.

A week later, my mom said she found a new place for us to live, she said it would be our own apartment, not like the shelter. I was relieved…I hadn’t talked to Sarah since those kids told me about her, and I wouldn’t go upstairs alone. I hadn’t seen her since the incident with the fire alarm. However, I would hear her voice sometimes as I lay in bed at night. It was like she was calling out just to me. “Come play with me.”

The new apartment was close to the school I’d be going to kindergarten at and, like mom said, we had our very own place. There were three floors, each with one apartment per floor, and ours was on the very top. For several months, my mother and I lived peacefully in our new apartment, and I began to forget about Sarah. For several months, we were happy. I missed my father and thought about him all the time, but for the most part I was happy here.

Then the nightmares started. Each and every one were the same. It started as simply me lying in bed at night. This made it initially difficult for me to tell if it was a dream or real. In the dream, I would start to drift off…until the smell of smoke came to my nostrils. At this point, I would jump out of bed, coughing slightly, and looking around. I would cry out for my mom and I could hear her calling for me, but I couldn’t get to her. I stayed in the room for the longest time, waiting for my mom or the firemen to come save me. After a while, it became obvious that no one was coming to get me, and I was starting to get light headed. I managed to get out of my bedroom door to see that most of the apartment was engulfed in flames. In the dreams, I only made it to the top of the stairs before I passed out on the floor from breathing in too much smoke. The last thing I hear over the crackling of the fire before I wake is a voice. “Come play with me. I will find someone to play with me.”

The summer before I was to start first grade, my mother announced that we would be moving, yet again, to another town altogether. I wasn’t excited. This meant I’d have to make new friends and start over again. Secretly, part of me hoped it would make the nightmares go away. Mom said that we had until the end of July to move in to the new apartment, but that she wanted me to see it before we moved in. She took us both on a road trip to a town totally unfamiliar to me, and what seemed to be a long way away from what we called home. The town was bigger than what I was used to, and I remember being excited because we passed three playgrounds on the way to the new apartment. She took me inside and we looked around. This place was my favorite of all of them. It had windows everywhere that made it look bright and sunny and above all, happy. I couldn’t wait to move, and I was sad that we couldn’t move in right then and there. After a while, mom said we had to go back home, so we went and the car and drove back the way we’d come. As we pulled onto our street, it didn’t take long to notice that something was wrong. Lined up in front of our building were two fire trucks and a police car, all with lights flashing. My mom parked on the other side of the road and went over, telling me to stay in the car. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I remember staring up at the black smoke still faintly smearing the sky and feeling my blood turn cold. It was coming from our apartment. When mom came back to the car, her face was drained of all color and she couldn’t speak right away. When she finally spoke, it was more to herself, and she could only get three words out. “Why just ours?” I thought I saw Sarah up in the blackened window of our former home.

Today, I sit at my computer writing this and thinking about her. I’m shaking, and I don’t know why. It’s months before my nineteenth birthday and I’m living with my dad, attending a community college in the area. My dad remarried years ago and now has a little girl from his second marriage. She’s quite a bit younger than me—six—and she reminds me a lot of myself at her age.

I guess she’s the reason I started to write this. I haven’t been able to get the events of yesterday out of my head. I was watching her while my dad was at work and I was outside with her while she played on the swing set. I heard the phone ringing inside, so naturally I went to answer it. This isn’t the part I can’t shake off. The thing is…when I went back outside, Rebecca looked at me and said “we have to go inside.” When I asked her why, she only said four little words before running back up the steps and in the house. Four little words, but they were enough to bring chills up my spine.

“Sarah wants to play.”

Credit To – Ashleigh Margaret

Marchers in the Woods (Creepypasta)

Tue, 14 May 2013 20:14:39 -0500

Marchers in the Woods (Creepypasta):

When I was young, in the Girl Scouts, I went to summer camp in a remote spot on the Mason Dixon line. It was fameous for being on the route of the South’s retreat from the defeat at Gettysburg.

There was a story that there was a lost patrol that still marched through there, on moonless nights. Anyone they noticed would be conscripted to join them.

It was one of many campfire stories we told, and I might have forgotten all about it, except for or one night. I woke up to the sound of drums in the woods.

The camp was silent. I cracked open the flap and froze. On the path a troop was marching through a low fog. Most were wounded, all wearing civil war uniforms, rucksacks, carrying muskets slung over the shoulder; as they marched a single drummer ticked off the time.

I tried not to even breathe as they marched by. Finally the last soldier came into view, and something about it really sent a chill through me. Just as they were about to go out of sight it’s head whipped around, and I thought our eyes met for a moment.

Soon after my family moved far away from Pennsylvania, and I convinced myself it was all a bad dream. I moved back here last month, and have been hearing drums late at night.

The new moon is soon, and I figured out what was disturbing about that last soldier. He wasn’t wearing a Civil War uniform. She wore a Girl Scout uniform..

phatduckk: Rec [4] Yesss

Fri, 10 May 2013 22:12:27 -0500

phatduckk:

Rec [4]

Yesss

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Fri, 10 May 2013 22:11:38 -0500

not spooky, but I figured i’d give one away for my 500th...

Fri, 10 May 2013 19:08:18 -0500

not spooky, but I figured i’d give one away for my 500th subscriber appreciation video….and also the meez because i couldnt get ahold of any of the winners lawl….Its a awesome poster…