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The black light in my hand told me things I should have never known, word by word over a month’s grim fascination.

There are tons of stories out there about hacked Pokémon games. Some of them really quite neat such as the one about a version where you get a ghost as a starter. Some are ridiculous, silly stories about individuals dying after playing a game, or the game talking to them. God, don't these writers know less is more when it comes to these stories? Ah well, I digress.

Every small town seems to have its own claim to fame. Something that draws in the looky-loos to spend their big-city cash. I’m sure you’ve made your fair share of roadside stops or taken a backroad to see the World’s Largest Ball of Twine, toured the mistress’s house of Blackbeard, where he may or may not have buried his treasure, or touched the hanging tree of those poor ethereal women. Well, my town is famous for red pumpkins.

Post #1 (Sept. 7, 2010) Okay, /x/, I need your help with this. This is not copypasta, this is a long read, but I feel like my safety or well-being could very well depend on this. This is video game related, specifically Majora’s Mask, and this is the creepiest shit that has ever happened to me in my entire life.

Never get a hole in one at a mini-golf course. Trust me, the risk is not worth the fleeting sense of accomplishment. Let's be real. You probably got one on accident, anyway, so any pride you'd feel is undeserved.

“So goodbye yellow brick road Where the dogs of society howl You can’t plant me in your penthouse I’m going back to my plough Back to the howling old owl in the woods Hunting the horny back toad Oh I’ve finally decided my future lies Beyond the yellow brick road” – Elton John, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” Kansas In 1985, the Disney film ’Return to Oz’ was released in cinemas, and a few years later made its way onto home VHS.

The howls of aberrant mutants filled the night sky, low and ominous. Their disgusting skittering could be heard all around me. Inhuman forms swam in the dark, never allowing my eyes to pin down their true shapes. At once, I saw a dog, a feline, a bird, and a man. Dread filled my bowels as I watched from my perch. I checked my weapon again; the magazine was still empty. I sighed and checked my sidearm: one full-charge magazine, not nearly enough. That left my blade, a sixteen-inch, heat-sheathed…

Howdy. You can call me "Jack." It's not my real name, but that's what I'll go by for now. I reckon the time to tell my story has come. Believe it or don't, but here it is. I suggest you take away the lessons it teaches, even if you dismiss it all as bullshit like 98% of the other stories on the internet. But there's more truth in this story than any one of you could know.

The Ilchester Tunnel is located near the historic town of Ellicott City, Maryland. This old B&O Railroad tunnel also has a little known urban legend attached to it: The Legend of The Blink Man.

Sunday I’m not sure why I’m writing this down on paper and not on my computer. I guess I’ve just noticed some odd things. It’s not that I don’t trust the computer… I just… need to organize my thoughts. I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere I know that what I write can’t be deleted or… changed… not that that’s happened. It’s just… everything blurs together here, and the fog of memory lends a strange cast to things…

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. She explained that it was a storeroom, and that it was out of bounds. She reminded him of this several times before allowing him upstairs. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. However the…

The widow, Laura, walked into the garden. Cracked Stone walls surrounded her, their green vines slithering toward bushes plump with blood-red berries. At the center of the garden stood a rectangular stone basin shaped like an angel. It knelt before the pool as if to deliver water from its mouth. Yet what flowed was bleak black water, filled with sticks and the smal bodies of dying insects. When she was younger, she remembered tossing coins and watching them sink into the water's darkness.…

[Originally posted to a paranormal forum in March 2023, split across four posts because of the character limit. Reproduced here in full, with the poster's section headings.] My counsellor thinks I should write this down. Not to post, necessarily. Just to get it out of my head and onto something that isn't my head. I'm posting it because if I only write it down, it's just me and the page again, and I've spent five years being the only person who knows the whole of it.

You don't know me. But perhaps you know my voice.

As a kid, I loved the Toy Story film, and you know what else I loved? The Genesis game. Played that game every time I got back from school, before I went to bed, every time I got a chance. A fantastic game. It was pretty much Disney's answer to Donkey Kong Country.

Bedtime is supposed to be a happy event for a tired child; for me it was terrifying. While some children might complain about being put to bed before they have finished watching a film or playing their favourite video game, when I was a child, night time was something to truly fear. Somewhere in the back of my mind it still is.

In the year 2000, Disney had planned to release their first theatrical horror film for mature audiences. This was a fairly big step for the company, as they'd hoped to usher in a new era by making movies strictly for adults; alongside their usual family-friendly material, of course. On paper, it was a smart move. Disney was a household name well before the '90s rolled around, but they were mainly acknowledged for their animated material, so they wanted to surprise people with newer concepts.…

So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?" u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded." THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

The homunculus was a thin, flat, disproportionate thing that was too smooth, too round, and seemingly forever dissatisfied with its own ludicrous appearance. The first time I ever laid eyes on it, I had just arrived at my tech job, fresh from a stay of extended medical leave, mind already ablaze with the problems of yesterday’s virtual meetings. A semicircle of young and middle-aged colleagues surrounded and watched in hushed excitement as the thing changed. What I initially recognised as an…

Sometime during the night of August 16, 1952, the small town of Ashley, Kansas ceased to exist. At 3:28am on August 17, 1952, a magnitude 7.9 earthquake was measured by the United States Geological Survey. The earthquake itself was felt throughout the state and most of the midwest. The epicenter was determined to be directly under Ashley, Kansas.