#creepypasta

TAG...YOU'RE IT!! The Graveyard Game Ten people. Ten people in ten different places,  doing ten different things. But all sharing one single thought... "What if it really works?"

I began my career at the military institute for applied physics, of which nation I am not at liberty to tell you. My role was as a junior research engineer at the lasers and optics department, primarily tasked with equipment maintenance, calibration, embedded programming of makeshift equipment, and procurement for a high-priority research project with long-term funding. In truth, it was an amazing workplace. I've always been fascinated by the physics of light, and working in a top of the line…

Paramedics are incredibly superstitious. It’s surprising how much people will argue with me about this simple fact. “Oh, definitely not. They’re too reasonable, too smart, too calm in a crisis to engage with something as irrational as superstitions.”

Everyone thinks they have an idea of what madness is, but in reality, you don't. I've come to accept that our physical death is nothing compared to what happens in the other plane, and there is nothing we can do about it. An unseen world that we share with our counterparts. The madness I will never understand. Yet, I was able to realize at a very young age that they will take us all a lot sooner than we think.

A hallway that never ends. Picture this. Life is great. Ten years old. Ten years of your life have been on earth. Ten years. On my tenth birthday, I got the worst birthday gift. I fell asleep that night, the night of my tenth birthday. I had gotten great gifts, and I was exhausted. The moment I woke up, however, I was in a completely different place. Laying on the ground, I slowly gained consciousness. The room was gray with dim light, and by me was a crumpled sheet of paper. I opened it, and…

I wandered through the stalls a bit, trying to use my map to figure out where I was, and the quickest way to get to the lake. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t have to struggle as much to put the candle out since it would already be surrounded by water, but first, I’d have to actually navigate my way to the lake.

They kept sending us money, that was the problem. Even after the drugs which made your mind spiral into rainbow hell, and the noxious smelling salts, and the obscure rituals, they never cut funding. Even when we got desperate, they still kept pumping in the surplus of our good taxpayers. It wasn’t just money either, they kept us in good stock of all sorts. This included the drugs, obviously, alongside the sleek and sinister machines, chrome-plated man-made horrors.

Master, please wake up. Everything will be okay. I'll just lay here next to you. Too bad you wouldn't teach me how to use the phone. I saw how to use it on TV.  You said I wasn't allowed to touch it, so I won't. I'll be a good boy.

Once upon a time. long ago. A kingdom of beauty and sirens were told. The royals were all fair, but a plague drew near. The people begged and screamed for the royals did not make a beep. Unknown to the people. The fairest daughter fell ill. The King journeyed far and away. A little doll was gifted to the fair daughter. She loved it so, the doll was odd to others, for it did not match the princess. The princess had hair of ocean blue. She wore dresses of vibrant hues. The doll, however; was…

My parents live up North, and so every Christmas my drive to their house is defined by a lot of grey, brown and white, as well as bitter cold. Never liked the cold. I spent the first 18 years of my life in it, so I think I definitely have an educated opinion on it.

I tried not to panic as I watched The Rot lurch up from the ground, hobbling as it began to search for me, its mouth twitching and its bones cracking as it moved, it limped and crawled around, occasionally taking a second or two to sniff the air. Slowly, it spoke, its voice still loud and deafening. “Where are yooooou?” It called, tauntingly, I could hear it chuckling as it searched. “Jonaaaaaah…” I slowly navigated to the exit of the warehouse, reaching for the exit and…

Chapter 3: The One Who Understands All Requiem looked down at his right hand carrying the claymore with thorned rosary binding them together. He let his blade drop next to him to hang freely by the rosary so he may use both hands to climb the vine. He dug his fingers into the vine making it bleed, and started climbing.

Chapter 2: One Hound’s Meal is Another Man’s Treasure He scanned the chamber for another door, but fell short. All while the holes in his chest and stomach began to glow with the healing white light. Requiem rested his claymore against his shoulder, then made his way to the door he had entered through seeing that it was the only way out of the chamber. The white light turned into his entrails, then muscles and finally his scarred skin until he was whole again.

Stephen Hillenburg is one of the better-known names in animation. Born on August 21, 1961, he was not only an animator but also a marine biology educator. He passed away on November 26, 2018. He is best known for shows like Rocko’s Modern Life and SpongeBob SquarePants, the latter of which continues to air to this day.

Chapter 1: The Purity of Corruption

I'm a rabbi, so you can imagine the kinds of conversation I have when I counsel my congregants. Family troubles. Marital strife. And sometimes, theology. The other day, one of my congregants―a young, sensitive woman with hair almost black and eyes just as dark―came in to see me. She was in the midst of a crisis of faith. "If only God would speak to me, or give me some kind of sign…," she was saying.

I’ve heard all about all of the little “games” from the internet, little rituals with beings that hunt you, games that people spread stories about, games that people get wishes for, I feel jealous of them, most of the time it's just a prank, or if something does happen, at least they’ll more than likely survive. I find it annoying whenever I spot one of those clickbait videos, (PLAYING BLOODY MARY AT 3:00 AM!), because they mock the people who made these stories, or in my case, encounters.

I know, what a generic thing to talk about in a story like this, as stories about creepy dolls were shared around to death, but hey, surely someone on here will be interested in what I am talking about as I have something similar to share.

“Samantha?” I heard Rosalyn ask hopefully as she picked up the phone. I was calling her because she had recently come across an anomalous VHS tape of a man burying a premonition he had written down in my cemetery, convinced that it would one day be of great value to me. She had showed it to me, and I had of course agreed to see if I could find it.

Ah! Halloween! My favorite time of year! People rushing to the stores to stock up on candy, children dressing up as monsters to scare people, the many horror films shown on TV and in cinemas... In short! A dream come true! I can't think of a more effervescent festival than this one! That was the case a year ago, but not anymore. This year, nobody celebrates Halloween anymore. The streets are completely deserted, and the city's stores are all closed on this day.