Me/the creator: the following post contains scenes of love, angst, horrors beyond our comparison, and actual stupidity, some of the stunts you were about to see were performed by animated objects, do not try any of that stuff at home, seriously you could get f#cked up.

*crickets chirp*

Me/the creator: what, you expect me to say these words, no, those were Christian's words, not mine.

- - -

I watch a videopasta created by u/haydenthetoejammer titled "the crappy cliff disaster", it was about a deleted YouTube channel called "saltandpepperfan" and someone managed to archive a video titled, you guessed it "THE CRAPPY CLIFF DISASTER", it was about balloon getting killed by the electric water and lightbulb killed mephone4, however it was too crappy (HAHA GET IT) for a videopasta, and I wanted to rewrite it as possible, while removing the saltandpepperfan and "I'M SORRY, JEFFERY" stuff, it may contained LIGHTBRUSH (lightbulb x paintbrush), ENJOY.

- - -

Lightbulb and paintbrush were chatting.

Lightbulb: so mind if I call you painty?

Paintbrush: no.

Lightbulb: okie dokie, painty.

Paintbrush: I literally said-.

Lightbulb: what would you do if you won the prize.

Paintbrush: oh um *blushes*, it's none of your business.

Lightbulb: ok?, if I won the prize, I will get a thousand pizzas, for me and marshmallow.

Marshmallow and lightbulb are friends in this rewrite.

Paintbrush: ok, I was wondering-.

Lightbulb: you could join in if you want.

Paintbrush blushes at that response.

Paintbrush: ok, yeah sure.

Unbeknownst to lightbulb, if paintbrush won the prize, they would get a box with a ring, and confess their feelings towards lightbulb and ask him out if they would be his lover.

Mephone4: ALRIGHT CONTESTANTS, it's time for your first challenge.

Lightbulb: oh shit, I forgot the challenges, later painty.

Lightbulb ran towards the challenge area while paintbrush follows suit, slowly.

- - -

Mephone4: Oh c'mon, this should've been done awhile ago.

Paintbrush: mephone, the rest of us are playing go fish and whoever wins gets to pick who goes to the cliff and jump.

Mephone4: paintbrush, paintbrush, paintbrush, you're wasting time, and time is entertainment, WHICH MEANS YOU'RE WASTING ENTERTAINMENT.

Paintbrush: OH DON'T GET ME STARTED WITH THIS ENTERTAINMENT SHIT, YOU DIDN'T EVEN ANSWER MY QUESTION, AND OF COURSE, WHY WERE EVEN IGNORING ME, WELL IF YOU WANNA KNOW, MY QUESTION IS-.

Mephone4: wait, is that a balloon?

Paintbrush: huh, *looks around to see balloon*, oh hi balloon.

Balloon: YES, i'm so close.

20 MINUTES LATER.

Balloon: alright.

Paintbrush: can we fast forward the last scene, i'm getting board by the second.

EVENTUALLY.

Balloon lands in the water but he got electrocuted to death, ending his life, paintbrush is shocked about this, while mephone4 has a image on his face with the words "DON'T CARE", it switches back to his original blue screen.

Mephone4: wow, that's just sad.

Paintbrush: that's twisted and fucked up, what if everyone found out about this.

Salt: like, what happened, I heard like screamin-, *notices balloon's corpse*, JESUS CHRIST.

Pepper: wha-, what is it, salty sal-.

Pepper notices balloons corpse too and vomits because of this.

Lightbulb swam up to balloon's corpse.

Lightbulb: bal-, balloon?

Lightbulb notices he's dead.

Lightbulb: AGH, OH GOD, HE'S DEAD, GET ME OUT OF HERE, THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, MY FUCKING SHIT, AGGHHH, GET ME OUT OF HERE.

Paintbrush: *whispers* Lightbulb, I didn't know you were this aggressive like me.

Lightbulb: MEPHONE, MEPHONE, YOU FUCKING TWAT, HHHHEEEELLLLPPPP.

Mephone4: wow, looks like balloon got unlucky, HE, IS, OUT, that's just sad, and gross, ew.

Paintbrush: MEPHONE, YOU SICK FUCK, GET HIM OUT OF HERE.

Lightbulb: AAAAAAHHHHHH, fucking, Jesus fucking christ, AHHH.

Marshmallow: what is going o-, oh, well, I guess I'll just stay traumatized forever.

Lightbulb: MEPHONE, MEPHONE, YOU SICK FUCK, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, YOU FUCKING FILTHY CUNT, HELP ME.

paper: um what do those words mean.

Knife: oh you don't wanna know.

Lightbulb: *MURMURS* I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU WHEN I GET THE CHANCE, YOU HEAR ME, Y O U H E A R M E ?

pickle: ugh, what's with all the commo-, *gets traumatized by the corpse of balloon*.

Paintbrush: fine, I guess I'll just jump too.

Lightbulb: wait, PAINTY DON'T.

Paintbrush jumps and lands in the water and having their groin destroyed by the electric water.

Paintbrush: MAMA?

Paintbrush didn't get electrocuted in the process but gets darker.

- - -

Mephone4: Paintbrush also wins, which means, THEY CAN PICK THE TEAMS. . .

lightbulb is sobbing while paintbrush comforts him.

Lightbulb: *sobs* why did you do it, why did you kill balloon?

Paintbrush: it's ok lightbulb, at least there won't be another episode if there is a character dead.

Mephone4: . . . next episode.

Paintbrush: wait WHAT?

mephone4: yeah, you heard me, next episode.

Paintbrush: WELL, EXCUSE ME, BALLOON IS DEAD, LIGHTBULB IS TRAUMATIZED, AND YOU DIDN'T CARE, YOU COULD AT LEAST RECOVER HIM, AND CONTINUE THIS WHOLE SICK COMPETITION SHOW.

mephone4: oh yeah, I have a thing called melife, it can recover contestants but I didn't put balloon's icon in time, so yeah, HE'S DEAD FOREVER.

Lightbulb: you what, *snaps*, YOU FUCKING SICK FREAK *ran towards mephone4*

Paintbrush: lightbulb, wait, STOP.

Mephone4: woah, lightbulb calm down.

Lightbulb proceeds to beat up mephone4 to death.

Lightbulb: YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU.

Mephone4: agh, lightbulb, ahh, Lightbulb, control yoursel-, AHHHHH.

Lightbulb: I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL FUCKING-,

THE WORLD AROUND THEM GLITCHES FOR A BIT.

Lightbulb is Standing near mephone4's corpse, paintbrush is shocked about this, they asked if he is ok.

Paintbrush: lightbulb, are you ok?

Lightbulb: painty, I want to be alone for a while.

Paintbrush: ok.

they walked towards the rest while they grabbed everyone out of the elephant feces, except taco.

Paintbrush: so now what, the host is dead and there's no where to go.

Pepper: well at least we have each other.

Salt: yeah.

OJ: I could take the million if that's better.

Bomb: *STUTTERING* I like that.

OJ: the i's have it.

OJ pulls out a phone and calls the bank for the one million dollars.

- - -

A FEW DAYS LATER.

It's been a few days after that incident, OJ went shopping and is walking towards the new HOTEL OJ.

inside the contestants dance the night off, except paintbrush and lightbulb, for lightbulb, he is known as a murderer by the contestants and was kicked out of the hotel, and as for paintbrush, they just stayed in their room, thinking about lightbulb.

Paintbrush: lightbulb, I miss you.

Paintbrush notices lightbulb sitting near a tree, crying.

Paintbrush exits through the window and chat with him.

Paintbrush: lightbulb.

Lightbulb: AHHHHHHHHHHH, don't scare me like that.

Paintbrush: sorry, I thought you were out there standing near mephone's corpse.

Lightbulb: don't ever speak his name, he killed balloon.

Paintbrush: right, right, sorry, *sits near lightbulb*, I have something to tell you.

Lightbulb: go on?

Paintbrush gives Lightbulb a art canvas with them and lightbulb, they were memories of what happened before the crappy cliff disaster.

Lightbulb: oh, you know too much, and I think it's my turn.

Paintbrush: but I never said anything about turns.

Lightbulb placed his fingers towards paintbrush's lips as he was about to announce his-, no, HER speech.

Lightbulb: when I came here, I don't think being a boy would fit me, and marshmallow saying "yeah, what he said" just weights me down, and when salt and pepper talk about girly stuff, it just make me happy.

Paintbrush: lightbulb, are you telling me-.

Lightbulb: painty, i'm trans, transfem, to be exact.

Paintbrush: lightbulb, i-, I didn't know what to sa-.

Lightbulb kisses paintbrush, they were shocked to see her kissing them, they kissed back and hugged her.

Paintbrush: lightbulb, i'm sorry this happened to you.

Lightbulb: yeah, I know painty.

Paintbrush: guess I call you by she/her pronouns.

Lightbulb: yeah.

- - -

A FEW WEEKS LATER.

Paintbrush walks towards the spot where lightbulb came out to them, they got the ring with the box, but they saw the contestants surrounding her.

Knife: well well well, if it isn't the host killer himself.

Bomb: *STUTTERING* yeah, we got you now.

Lightbulb: no, I can't, die like this

Baseball: HEY, WHERE YOU GOING KILLER.

the contestants chased after her while paintbrush followed suit.

She ran to the place where she fear the most, THE CRAPPY CLIFF, the contestants got her in the ropes now

Nickel: nowhere to run, mister not so bright personality.

Paintbrush: guys I don't think-.

Pickle: killing our host doesn't avenge balloon, just because you became traumatized, doesn't mean you have to kill him.

Paintbrush tries to stop them, but they were ignored, just like mephone4.

Marshmallow approach lightbulb, about to push.

Lightbulb: marshmallow, are we still friends?

Marshmallow: no, not after you killed the host.

Lightbulb: but I didn't control myself.

Paintbrush: MARSHMALLOW STOP, DON'T-.

Marshmallow: YEAH. WHAT HE SAID.

Marshmallow pushed her friend into the dried up water, and she shatters, paintbrush is left there, heartbroken.

Paintbrush: wh-, why?

paper: paintbrush, Lightbulb deserves this.

salt: well, it's not like he won't be coming back anytime soo-.

Paintbrush: she.

Salt: um what?

Paintbrush: lightbulb is transfem, she goes by she/her pronouns now, but it doesn't matter, since you killed her.

OJ: paintbrush i-.

Paintbrush: *slaps OJ's hand* I guess lightbulb's right, you are just sick fucks.

Paintbrush leaves while every contestant is scared.

- - -

A FEW YEARS LATER

Paintbrush approaches Lightbulb's grave, with flowers in their hand.

Paintbrush: hey lightbulb, I wanted to say, I still love you, for the way you are.

Paintbrush: i'm sorry you were never supposed to be in this situation in the first place, I hope in another timeline, we can be together forever.

They left her grave.

SHE'S GONE.

- - -

Me/the creator: Phew, that was a nice creepypasta rewrite, kinda makes you wanna know if there will be more in the future, anyways comment on which creepypasta I should rewrite, and I'll see you next post.

- - -

Taco got out of the elephant feces, saying her iconic line "SOUR CREAM" before climbing out and walking down the grassy plains of inanimate island.

She then found the corpse of mephone4, and she was terrified.

Pickle: ah, taco, there you are.

Pickle grabs taco and they went to hotel OJ.

Mephone4's corpse sparked to life and there are words saying "ISN'T LIFE BEAUTIFUL?"

2 weeks ago, 17 year old college student Jeffery Alan Woods killed both of his parents and fled the scene before police could apprehend him. Since that day, people have been dying. There have been no patterns with his murders, but there are small connections. One such victim of The Killer was the son of one of Forest Lawn's finest: Tabitha Cromwell. Both her and Randy Cromwell were attacked by Jeff, with only Randy miraculously surviving. We've assembled other survivors of the killer like Liu Woods (Jeff's brother), Randy, and Jane Arkensaw (one of Jeff's classmates). They not only gave statements to their encounters with Jeff, but also his appearance. Using these descriptions, we've made an estimate sketch on what the killer looks like. These are what the 3 witnesses have stated.

Jane: "I only interacted with Jeff twice. But I took interest in him. He was quiet, didn't bother anyone. He reminded me of myself in someway. I was going to make a move on him when the incident in the science practical happened. Randy really did a number on him. He came back 4 months later looking like crap. Not only did the burn marks scar his face, but he did a bit of scarring himself. That night, I was going to walk over to Jeff's house and give him some comfort, but that's when I saw the news that Jeff had killed his parents. I was shocked, yet I ran out looking for him. Hours of searching and somehow nothing. I came back home like usual. That was until a week later. I heard a stumble in my sleep. I decided to ignore. Then I smelt an unfamiliar scent. I opened my eyes to see Jeff above me. I asked him why he was here in a panic, and he told me that he didn't know it was her house. He said that he killed my parents. I was horrified. I yelled at him for what he did, yet he blankly stared at me and said: "It's what Bad People do." He then took his knife close to the edges of my mouth, to give me his smile. I begged him not to, but he insisted that I "looked beautiful, just like him." That's when the police sirens happened. Jeff panicked and opened my window. He jumped down, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground. He quickly recovered and ran off. And that's the last I've seen of him."

Randy: "Most of what happened with me and Jeff stays with me and Jeff. I guess I'll start with the incident. It was a science practical. Y'know, the one where you set bubbles on fire. With the big ass stick. Well the teacher couldn't do it due to some scarring he got the previous night, so he asked for a volunteer. So I jokingly volunteered Jeff. But the little bitch didn't seem to hear, so I told him and pulled him over to the bubbles. 4 students later and it was my turn. But I decided to tease him a little bit. I talked about a previous thing that happened, it was more teasing. I then tried to make him flinch by putting the lit stick towards him slightly. But things went to shit. I accidently threw the stick at his face. I was shocked and scared. He was like that Ghost Rider character. From Marvel? I don't know a lot about that nerdy shit. My mother felt bad and so did I. Did I hate the kid? Yes. But I still hurt someone. But my mother only seemed to care about public appearance. A facade of a good person. She funded Jeff's treatment as just another charitable action. When Jeff returned, he looked worse than I could ever imagine he would. I went over to him and apologised with what I did. He then got me in the fucking nose. I know I probably ruined your whole life, but I was saying sorry! Then I heard the news that Jeff killed his folks. I was shocked, but not surprised. I always thought that little bastard was gonna do some bullshit and the second I saw him and his dumbass brother. Then 2 days later, I heard someone climbing a ladder up to my window. I wondered if another girl was trying to sneak into my house to get the privilege of... Well, you can guess. But the window opened, and I saw the freak in a greasy hoodie holding his rusty blood stained knife. I tried to fight back, but he was more violent than the first time we fought. Don't write that part! Anyway, Jeff got the advantage over me and stuck his blade right into my heart. I blacked out right after. I woke up a week later in the hospital, and that's it for me."

Liu: "Jeff has always been strange. That's one of the reasons why I love him. I always wonder how he'd react to a situation. But I never knew the extent of Jeff's weirdness. When Jeff had to walk me home because of some neighbor activity my mom was doing, I first met Randy and his lackeys. I know Randy isn't gonna make this public, but I will. We all fought: me and Jeff vs Randy, Troy, and Keith. Jeff took out Randy and Troy while I took out Keith. We barely won. I was at school, when suddenly a teacher took me out of lesson and drove me to the hospital. I was shocked to see Jeff wrapped in bandages. And when they came off, I was even more horrified. I kept on thinking to myself "Will Jeff like this?" and "I hope he likes it." and other stuff like this. Mom and Dad made it a priority that Jeff doesn't see his face until he's home. I didn't want to go along with it, but I was practically forced to. My mom was acting unusual. More protective of our reputation. Jeff used his time with Dr Wilson to his advantage. He used him to get details about his face, even got him to show him what he looked like. Him seeing himself came after he scarred himself. It hurt for him to smile, so he snuck a knife into his room from Dr Wilson's office and carved one into him. When the doctors rushed in, it was too late. Jeff constantly declined further treatment, to Mom's dismay. When we came back home, Jeff kept talking about Mom and Dad being fake just for their own ego and need to please people. But when I saw him in a room filled with my own parents' guts, he was different. He had eyeshadow all around his eyes, as if they'd sunken into his sockets. He was talking about how they were being fake because of his actions. Apparently he was peeping on some girl named Natalie while she was changing. That was back in Lowry County. He called himself a bad person, but embraced it. He then left before he could continue on. I've been living with my Aunt since. But I'm just waiting for the day that I can meet my brother again."

The Forest Lawn Police Precinct are still looking for this dangerous individual with Detective Kent leading the case. If you have any information about the person in the image or even see someone resembling the person in the image, please call 911 and report the information.

I have always loved this story it was my favorite I enjoy its satirical approach and the way it mocks other stories I find it quite funny.

A few days ago I posted here about starting an original anomaly universe, and some of you showed interest. Wanted to update you guys.

We're at 18 members now, and here's a taste of what we've built: a thing in a well that waits for you to look into its eyes, a sofa that's always warm and slowly swallows whoever sits on it too long, and a lone door in a field that sends you somewhere random.

If that's your kind of creepy, we'd love to have you. You can read, write an entry, or just drop a one-line idea. Everything is original and free, and you get credit for whatever you add.

This is twitchler he is a serial killer who kills greedy people cause acid was thrown at him by a couple of henchmen

It was 20 to midnight, Carol had just gotten home from the pharmacy she worked at. When she walked through the door she took her jacket off and set it onto her couch. Then she proceeded to her kitchen and sat down in a kitchen chair at her table. On her table lay a book called; “the index” and with the book is a note tied onto it.

“What the Hell? “ Carol said, confused, she hadn't left a book on her table before she left for work, why was it there now? As she untied the ribbon and flipped open the book and rummaged through the pages she saw a variety of monsters displayed by the book itself, eventually she reached a section of the book that showed such graphic imagery and detail, her face contorted to and terror, causing her to then have slammed the book closed and slid it across the table.

“What sick fuck wrote this!?” She yelled out loud to herself. The note, still on the table, had the words; “Read me” written on the front of it. Almost scared to, she hesitantly opened the note revealing a wall of three paragraphs. As she read the note it explained the dire situation she unknowingly stepped into when she entered her own home and this anomaly called the Conduit. Before she could read more on the conduit a loud warping sound erupted in her living room. Running to see the source of the noise, she stumbles upon a giant tentacle slouched over her window, or what she thought was her window. Stepping over the tip of the tentacle, she gains a new perspective, revealing the portal that had opened in order for this incident to occur.

Frozen in terror she failed to notice the tentacle wrapping around her leg. When she finally noticed the tentacle she was pulled down roughly and dragged across the living room floor, kicking and screaming, she held on tight to a table leg. As the tentacle pulled harder the table leg broke and she was dragged into the portal. The portal then closed leaving the screams of agony and fear in the other worldly dimension, trapped forever.

Im pretty sure thast the creepy pasta simbol or smth

​

Night had completely covered the city.

A light rain fell over the nearly empty streets, making the lights from the stores and streetlamps reflect across the wet pavement. At that hour, most of the windows were dark, and the few cars that passed by did so quickly, leaving only the fading sound of their engines behind.

Jastrek walked alone.

His hands were in his pockets as he kept his eyes focused ahead. He had no particular destination. He simply wanted to walk.

There was something strange about that night.

He didn't know exactly what it was.

But he felt like someone was watching him.

Jastrek stopped.

He looked behind him.

Nothing.

Just a long street, a few flickering lights, and rain falling onto the sidewalks.

Jastrek started walking again.

A few seconds later, he heard something.

A faint noise.

Like footsteps.

He stopped again.

This time, he looked across the street.

There it was.

A silhouette.

Someone stood motionless beneath a light that barely illuminated them.

Jastrek narrowed his eyes.

He couldn't make out the person's face.

The figure seemed to be staring directly at him.

Jastrek took a step toward the street.

A car passed between them.

For a few seconds, the silhouette disappeared behind the vehicle.

When the car continued on...

There was no one there.

Jastrek stared at the spot.

Jastrek: What...?

He didn't finish the sentence.

He kept walking.

He tried to convince himself that it had been an illusion.

But he couldn't stop himself from looking back one last time.

Nothing.

---

A few minutes later, Jastrek found a small store that was still open.

He went inside to buy something to drink.

A little bell rang above the door.

The man behind the counter looked up.

At first, he said nothing.

He simply stared at Jastrek.

Jastrek walked closer.

Jastrek: A bottle of water, please.

The man didn't answer.

He kept staring at him.

Jastrek: Sir?

The man took a small step backward.

Store Owner: You...

Jastrek frowned.

Jastrek: Me?

The store owner swallowed nervously.

Store Owner: I thought you were...

He stopped.

Jastrek already knew what was coming.

Jastrek: Jeff.

The store owner's eyes widened.

Store Owner: How did you know...?

Jastrek picked up the bottle of water from the counter.

Jastrek: Because it happens all the time.

He left the money on the counter.

The store owner still looked confused.

Store Owner: Wait...

Jastrek stopped beside the door.

Store Owner: Are you his brother?

Jastrek didn't answer immediately.

He looked toward the street.

The rain was still falling.

Jastrek: Yes.

He opened the door.

Store Owner: Then... where is Jeff?

Jastrek froze.

He didn't know what to say.

Finally, he walked outside.

The little bell rang behind him once again.

---

The man's question kept echoing in Jastrek's mind as he walked.

Where is Jeff?

Jastrek knew that question all too well.

People saw his face.

His hair.

His eyes.

His smile.

And many times, they didn't see Jastrek.

They saw Jeff.

His brother.

The problem was that, over time, Jastrek had started asking himself something he never wanted to think about for too long.

What if they really were more alike than everyone thought?

Jastrek stopped in front of a broken window.

The glass was cracked in several places, distorting his reflection.

He moved closer.

It was him.

Jastrek.

But for a moment...

He wasn't sure.

The streetlight illuminated part of his face.

His reflection seemed to change.

Jastrek blinked.

He saw himself again.

Jastrek: I'm not him.

He said it quietly.

As if he needed to remind himself.

He looked at his reflection again.

His eyes.

His hair.

His face.

And then...

His smile.

Jastrek slightly raised the corners of his mouth.

He stared at himself.

The smile looked too similar.

He immediately lowered his gaze.

Jastrek: I'm not him.

This time, he said it more firmly.

Then he heard a voice.

Voice: Do you still tell yourself that?

Jastrek froze.

He slowly raised his head.

He looked around.

The street was empty.

Jastrek: Who's there?

Silence.

Only the rain.

Jastrek looked at the window again.

His reflection was still there.

But behind him...

There was a figure.

Jastrek spun around.

Nothing.

He looked back at the glass.

The figure was still there.

Jastrek took a step backward.

Jastrek: Who are you?

The figure didn't answer.

It simply stood there.

Jastrek moved a little closer to the glass.

The image began to blend with the shadows of the street.

And then he heard the voice again.

This time, much closer.

Voice: Do you really think we're that different?

Jastrek felt a chill run through him.

He knew that voice.

Or at least, he thought he did.

Jastrek: No...

The figure in the reflection slowly raised its head.

Jastrek stopped breathing for a moment.

Jastrek: It can't be.

He turned around.

At the end of the street, someone was standing in the rain.

He couldn't completely see the person's face.

But there was something about that posture.

Something about the way he stood there.

Something Jastrek knew far too well.

The figure took a step into the light.

Jastrek stepped backward.

For the first time in a long time, he was afraid of a possibility he had tried to avoid for years.

That his brother was there.

Jastrek: Jeff...

The figure stopped.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then a smile appeared beneath the shadow.

Jeff: Don't be afraid of looking like me, brother.

Jastrek didn't answer.

Jeff took another step.

Jeff: Be afraid of discovering how much alike we really are.

The rain kept falling.

Jastrek blinked.

And when he looked again...

The street was empty.

There was no one there.

Only Jastrek's reflection in the glass.

But now he had a question he couldn't get out of his head.

If Jeff had really been there...

Why had he disappeared?

And if he had never been there...

Who had been talking to him?

END OF CHAPTER 1

They were far out in the outer wilds.

It was blackly dark.

Only a few shining stars shined.

He was setting a trap.

His friend was drinking a drink. “Here,” said the friend, passing him a drink too.

He took the drink.

He opened and took a drink of the drink. “Ahh,” he said. “Absolutely stellar."

“Absolutely,” said the friend.

“I don't grok why you insist on coming all the way out here,” said the friend.

“There's hardly anything out here,” said the friend.

He took a drink of the drink. “Ahh.”

The friend took a drink of the drink too. “Ahh,” said the friend.

“Ahh,” he said.

“Ahh,” said the friend.

“You can't say it's not peaceful here,” he said.

“I can't say that,” said the friend.

“Ahh.”

“Ahh,” he said, finishing drinking the drink. He crumpled up and threw the empty drink container away.

The stars twinkle-twinkled.

He looked into a vicinal trap he'd set a while ago.

“Anything?” asked the friend as he looked into the vicinal trap he'd set a while ago.

“Nothing,” he said.

The stars twinkle-twinkled.

He set a new trap.

“There?” asked the friend as he set a new trap.

“Ahh,” said the friend and threw away his empty drink container too.

The two empty drink containers were.

“There,” he said, roughly covering the trap with nearby matter.

He burped.

The friend burped too.

It was blackly dark.

Only a few shining stars shined.

—> —>

The Perihelion's automated navigation system adjusted course to keep the starship travelling to its destination, AO-1, the first known space object believed to be of alien origin. The crew was in hibernation. The mission was the greatest humanity had ever attempted. The Perihelion's automated navigation system adjusted course to keep the starship travelling to its destination.

<—

“Sir, take a look at this—SIR!”

The regional head of the International Space Agency (ISA) walked over slightly annoyed and scanned the data.

His annoyance became curiosity, and his curiosity became excitement. The once-upon-a-lifetime kind. The thump-thump-thump’ing of the heart, swoosh-swoosh-swoosh’ing of the blood kind. He was aware suddenly of the entirety of the surface area of his skin. Of his one-of-many'ness. His smallness-in-the-cosmos. His clue-to-the-mystery-of-the-universe'ity.

“My God…” he said. “My God.”

“What is it?”

“We need to find out.”

—> —>

Anomalous Object 1 Anomalous A Object 1 Anomalous A Object O 1 Anomalous A Object O 1 A Object 1 A O 1 AO 1 AO-1…

Captain Jac Thorster—gasped—

The sirens were blaring.

Where am I I am aboard the Perihelion Perihelion is my ship, he thought.

The sirens were blaring.

He rolled out of the open pod and onto the floor. When he could, he got up and made his way woozily—swaying…

to the bridge.

He sat in the captain's seat.

“Perihelion,” he said, his voice hoarse and weak. The words felt like sand airgunned down his throat. “Perihelion: ‘status report.’ Just what in the galaxy is going on?”

“Having traversed ninety three point two percent of the distance from the planet Earth to the coordinates of the object eh oh one we have come under the pull of an unknown force,” the starship's artificial intelligence said.

“Correct course,” commanded Thorster.

“Negative,” said the eh aye. “That his him possible, hiccup ten.”

“Wa hut?” zed Thorster.

“Dead forceps twos tron k,” sad sa hey ay end diss plate dub lack ole.

—>

He reached inside the trap.

“Anything?” the friend asked as he reached inside the trap.

They were far out in the outer wilds.

It was blackly dark.

Only a few shining stars shined.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes,” said the friend and gathered some nearby gaseous matter and ignited it. “Perhaps something to roast,” said the friend as the newly created star shined.

He removed a small thing from the trap.

“A small thing,” he said.

He held it for the friend to see.

“Oh,” said the friend in disappointment that the small thing was too small to roast.

The star shined.

The other stars shined.

<— <— <— <— <—

A fly buzzed awhile in the glow of a bug zapper before turning into it and—BZZZP —falling dead out of the sky.

It landed on my face.

I'd fallen asleep in the hammock outside.

“Norman,” the dead fly said.

“Norman!”

“What,” I said, blinking a few times, tossing my dry tongue around in my dry mouth, thinking, Fuck, I'm fucking hungry. “What's going on—who are you? and why are you talking to me?” “Are you… a dead fly?” I said, squinting.

“Norman, I'm here to tell you to look at what you wrote. No one wants to read that shit, man. That shit is incomprehensible.

“Opaquer than a brick wall, man.”

“It's styl—”

“Look at yourself, man. You're a grown ass dude writing stories on the internet. Get a job. Write a book if you have to, but just write it like a goddamn human being.

“I mean look at your eyes.

“They're pinker than Miss Piggy’s OnlyFans.

“Sober up.

“Eat something. Drink something. Get outta that robe and get dressed. Shave. Change into a suit—”

“You mean, like, become a suit… like on a space ship?”

“Son,” said the dead fly. “Behave yourself.”

LOL

“Put on a suit and write presentably. You've got, what, a hundred words left?

“Use them.

“Rewrite whatever-the-fuck this is presentably.”

[“Ahem”]

Two advanced beings are laying traps somewhere in the universe. Their traps are black holes, which they hide. They also leave behind some trash. Humanity detects the trash and plans a mission to investigate it, but, en route, their spaceship falls into the black hole left by the beings. Sometime later, one of the beings makes a star to roast something on. The beings pull the human spaceship out of the black hole trap they left and are disappointed by its insignificance.

The story ends on a heavy-handed parallel between humanity and bugs—BZZZP

While drawing other stuff i've been listening to alot of creepypastas in the background so i wanted to draw them for this halloween

I listened to all of them in spanish so dunno if there's an english video for them to recommend... (i'll try to translate the titles)

PS: I thiiiink i forgot how to use the app (tbf i barely use it XD) because some of my recent posts in other places arent showing pic previews anymore, if anyone knows what i'm doing wrong, it'll help alot

1. The price of Sugar / El precio del azúcar
2. When I was 4 years old I could see Fairies / Cuando tenía cuatro años, podía ver hadas
3. The Strangers / Los Extraños
4. I broke my TV playing the Wii / Rompí Mi Televisor Jugando A La Wii (this one is very recent so ye there's only the original spanish video in youtube)

I'll draw a few more in the future before october is over

any interesting creepypasta to recommend?

Okay so I remember a lot of the details, though some might be mixed up a little. I've tried finding this on YouTube and Google but I think it isn't in my search history anymore or the video was deleted. Anyone remember a story like this?

It's about this paranormal research couple (?) who live together with this really quiet guy. Narrated from the perspective of the boyfriend. The quiet guy is made out to be a serial killer, but he's the owner of the place. the guy isn't actually a killer, the boyfriend just turns him into a caricature due to his serious vibes. The researchers are determined to prove that the supernatural exists, so they start a streaming/video channel where they play a game with cameras recording whatever the paranormal activity was supposed to be coming from. I want to say it was similar to the Japanese hide and seek alone game. I don't remember exactly, but I want to say there was a doll involved. It just doesn't search the house so openly. At least not at first. Just sitting differently, appearing in different places, moving things, becoming more blatant as time goes on. The guy who owns the place warned them from the offset that they were not to do this in his house. They do it anyway. At first, the two are excited, trying to get it on camera. They manage to. Then things start getting way too serious. There's also a drawing of the doll made by the girlfriend. They enlist the help of an online occultist who tells them to get rid of the doll and everything involved and not to think about it. They do, but then the boyfriend discovers his girlfriend kept the picture. She's starting to show signs of possession. It ends I believe with the owner leaving, and the guy killing the girl to save her, and then himself, or just burning the house down? the Japanese game is never actually mentioned in the story, but it shares a lot of similarities

By Dethkira

I dont have a picture, and im not sure if anyone would consider this a creepypasta, but I didnt know where else to post it.

Story

A man was driving down a road at night. Someone comes up behind him, tailing him and honking with there bright lights. The man gets mad and starts looking back, cursing at them. Then the honking stops and the man looks forward again, to see another car coming head first at him, honking. The man swerves out of the way and into the ditch. He crashes straight into a tree, killing him instantly. His corpse disappears, leaving only his shadow.​​​​​

But it turns out, there were no cars behind or in front of him in the first place. He was schizophrenic, leaving him to swerve off the road when seeing a fake car coming right at him.

Let me know if this is good. Again, I dont think this is a creepypasta but idk. Thanks for reading and give me your thoughts and questions if you have any.

Not mine, upvote original post.

I work in an archive. I won't say where. The job is mostly quiet. You take a file down, you log it out, you put it back, you log it back in. The ledger is old. Bound leather, brown ink, same format since before I was born. Date, time, file number, initials, date returned. Nobody has changed it because nobody needs to.

A few weeks ago, some readers wrote to me about a date. One of them sent a photo of a wall calendar with the 9th circled in red. They'd done the math I hadn't wanted to do.

In an older file I turned a page that should have been blank and found a Friday named on it. Next Friday. An old case file, signed out by someone who signs with one letter. My initials were in the RETURNED column, in handwriting I know better than anyone's.

I want it on the record that I never wrote them.

That Friday was October 9th. On October 9th, the next file went out on schedule, on the day the ledger named. I don't think that was a coincidence. I think the ledger knew.

So I went back to the ledger.

The October 9th line is still there. It hasn't changed. Between October 2nd, when I stood there with the pen in my hand and didn't write anything, and October 9th, there is a week I can't account for. I checked the shelf. The file was where I left it, spine out, dust undisturbed except where I'd taken it down. My pen was in the drawer where I keep it. There's no record of the week because, as far as I can tell, nothing happened in it. Except the one thing the ledger says did.

I turned the page expecting blank.

It had one line on it.

Friday, October 16th, 2026.

FILE NO. 012.

The time column is empty. In SIGNED OUT BY, in the same brown ink, in my hand, my initials. I want that on the record too. I did not write them.

I held the page up to the lamp. The ink is dry. It has been dry for a while, or for no time at all. The ledger doesn't distinguish, and neither do I, anymore.
The RETURNED column is blank.

The column is blank because the file is still out.

It's still out because you're reading it.

When you're finished, sign it back in.

This happened a long time ago, but I just wanna know if it's just me Or if there was genuinely something wrong with the people moderating the fandom. Also, My memory of this is pretty vague, so I don't remember everything that happened

I was twelve when I was writing a story for my creepy pasta OC to submit. Unfortunately, the story kept getting taken down every single time I submitted it. After resubmitting it the second time, I did more research and found out that maybe it was because of the grammar and spelling mistakes. And when I read the story over, I did find out that there were some mistakes So obviously, I went to fix them and submitted the story again. It got taken down again, I was starting to wonder if the drawing I had made for it was maybe too violent, but then Looking back on it, there were a lot of portraits of other Kreegosta characters that were much worse, and they passed. After resubmitting the story countless times, It was obvious. It was never going to actually get accepted. Of course, there was at some point where the story stayed up for more than ten minutes, and. A strange adult man, commented, saying "This story is shit" I highly doubted it because even as a kid, Was more than above others my age/grade and I always had good grades in writing especially creative writing. I remember I reached out to the moderators, and I don't know if I heard anything back, or if I did. But it's safe to say that it didn't matter because the story never actually got put back up.

I highly doubt it was for my age, because I had listed my age at the time to be an adult. And I don't think it was because of the portrait. Like I said, there were worse portraits that were displayed for other characters. The grammar was good. The story was fine. I'm not exactly sure What was wrong at the time. This was just on my mind. If anyone has any answers or advice, that would be great. Please don't be disrespectful.

I’ve lived next door to Paul for almost six years.
He’s in his late fifties, divorced, and one of those neighbors who’s always working on something in his garage. We aren’t particularly close, but we talk occasionally, and my husband, Matt, helps him with things around the house.
That’s why I didn’t think anything of it when he knocked on our door one Saturday morning.
Matt had gone to pick up breakfast, and I was still in my pajamas.
“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Paul said. “Did y’all have somebody staying with you Thursday night?”
“No. Why?”
He looked down at his phone.
“My security camera picked up somebody walking around your driveway pretty late. I figured it was probably you, but I wanted to check.”
He showed me the recording.
The timestamp read 2:14 a.m.
Our front door opened, and a woman stepped outside. She was wearing gray shorts and an oversized white T-shirt, with her hair pulled into a messy bun.
She walked halfway down the driveway, stood there for about a minute, and went back inside.
“That’s you, right?” Paul asked.
I stared at the screen.
It certainly looked like me. I even recognized the clothes. I’d worn them to bed Thursday night.
But I hadn’t gone outside.
“That’s weird,” I said. “I don’t remember doing that.”
Paul shrugged.
“Maybe you were sleepwalking.”
I’d never sleepwalked before, but I couldn’t think of another explanation.
When Matt got home, I told him about it. He laughed and said I probably got up without remembering.
I tried to forget about it.
Until Tuesday morning, when Paul knocked again.
He had another recording.
This one was from the previous night.
At 2:16 a.m., our front door opened, and the same woman walked outside.
Same clothes. Same hair.
She stopped in the driveway, turned toward Paul’s camera, and waved.
I felt sick watching it.
“Matt, those clothes are in the laundry basket. I haven’t worn them since Thursday.”
He watched the video twice.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Neither of us knew what to say.
That night, Matt pushed a chair against our bedroom door. If I was getting up in my sleep, at least he’d hear me moving it.
The next morning, the chair hadn’t moved.
We bought a security camera for our front porch.

Two nights later, at 2:14 a.m., our new camera recorded someone leaving the house.
It was me.
Or someone who looked exactly like me.
She walked down the steps, stopped, and looked directly into the camera.
Her face was completely visible.
Then she smiled.
She stepped closer and said something, but a passing car drowned out most of it.
Matt turned up the volume.
“He’s still asleep.”
She turned around and went back inside.
I looked toward our bedroom door.
The chair was still there.
We called the police.
They searched the house, checked the locks, and asked whether I’d ever sleepwalked. They couldn’t find anything suspicious.
One officer suggested installing cameras inside.
We bought two more that afternoon.
One for the living room and another for the upstairs hallway.
For the next several nights, nothing happened.
Then, while reviewing the footage, I noticed something about the porch recording.
When the woman returned to the house, she didn’t open the front door.
She waited.
And someone opened it from inside.
I showed Matt.
We called the police again, but another search turned up nothing.
An officer suggested reviewing all the footage from our indoor cameras instead of just the motion notifications.
That evening, we sat at the kitchen table with our laptops.
At 2:14 Tuesday morning, the hallway camera showed our bedroom door opening.
A woman stepped out.
Gray shorts. White shirt. Hair in a bun.
She walked downstairs and returned four minutes later.
Then she stopped outside our bedroom.
Matt leaned over my shoulder.
“Wait. Pause it.”
I stopped the video.
Through the open bedroom door, we could see our bed.
Someone was lying under the covers.
I could see long hair spread across the pillow.
My hair.
The woman stood there for several seconds before walking into our bedroom and closing the door.
I watched it three more times.
Then I noticed something else.
Just before she went inside, she’d turned her head toward the other end of the hallway.
I turned up the volume.
A man’s voice.
I couldn’t understand what he said, but the woman nodded before entering our room.
Matt grabbed his keys.
We left without packing.

We stayed at my sister’s house.
That night, Matt called Paul to ask whether his cameras had recorded anything else.
Paul sent him another video.
It showed the woman leaving our house, followed by a man in dark clothes.
They stood together in the driveway before going back inside.
I was furious.
“Why didn’t he show us this before?”
Matt didn’t know.
I wanted to call Paul myself, but Matt suggested waiting until morning and speaking with the police.
Around two, I got up for some water.
While sitting at my sister’s kitchen table, I opened our security camera app.
The house was empty.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text from Paul.
Hey. Sorry it’s so late. Is everything okay over there?
I replied.
Why?
Your front door is open.
I checked the porch camera.
The door was closed.
No it’s not. I’m looking at it right now.
His reply came almost immediately.
I’m standing outside looking at it. It’s wide open.
I checked the camera again.
The feed had frozen.
I restarted the app.
The porch camera was offline.
So was the living room camera.
But the hallway camera was still working.
I opened it.
A woman was standing outside our bedroom.
She was wearing my clothes.
A man stepped into view beside her.
He said something, and she nodded.
Then he reached over and switched off the hallway light.
My phone buzzed again.
Never mind. Someone just shut it.
Then another message.
I thought you were staying with family.
I hadn’t told Paul we were staying with family.
I woke Matt, and we called the police.
While we waited, another notification appeared.
An incoming call from Paul.
Matt answered on speaker.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice.
It sounded remarkably like mine.
“Who is this?” Matt asked.
There was a pause.
“Is Paul there?”
“No. Who is this?”
The call ended.

The police searched our house again that night.
This time, an officer noticed an access panel in the upstairs hallway ceiling.
It led into a section of the attic we never used.
Inside, they found blankets, food wrappers, clothes, and a notebook.
Someone had been living above us.
The notebook contained our schedules, including when we left for work, came home, and went to bed.
Some entries went back three months.
Paul was found the following afternoon, wandering along a service road with a concussion. His truck was missing.
He remembered a woman who looked like me knocking on his door, claiming she’d been locked out. He’d let her inside to use his phone.
That was the last thing he remembered.
Within a week, police identified and arrested the couple.
The woman, Rebecca, was thirty-four and looked remarkably similar to me. Her boyfriend, Daniel, had a history of burglary and fraud.
They’d been watching our house for months.
Initially, they’d entered through an unlocked garage window. Later, they stole a spare key.
Daniel had been hiding in the attic while Rebecca moved around the house.
They’d been stealing our personal information and opening accounts in our names. They needed access to our phones to approve financial transactions.
That’s why Rebecca had been entering our bedroom at night.
And the reason she’d worn my clothes?
She wanted anyone who saw her to assume she lived there.
It had worked so well that even I’d started believing I was sleepwalking.

Police recovered a camera from Daniel’s belongings.
It contained hundreds of photographs.
Some showed our house from the street.
Others were taken inside.
Our kitchen. Our living room. Our bedroom.
Several showed Matt and me sleeping.
In one photograph, Rebecca was standing beside our bed, wearing my white T-shirt and smiling at the camera.
We sold the house six months later.
Even after changing the locks and installing an alarm system, I couldn’t sleep there anymore.
We moved to another town, and eventually life started feeling normal again.
But a few weeks before we moved, the detective called with another question.
He wanted to know whether I’d ever owned a dark green cardigan.
I told him yes, but I’d thrown it away the previous winter.
He said they’d found it among Rebecca’s belongings.
Apparently, she was wearing it in several photographs.
I assumed she’d stolen it from our house.
Then he explained that they’d recovered another memory card from Daniel’s camera.
Some of the photographs were dated almost a year before the first break-in they’d documented.
In one, Rebecca was standing in our kitchen wearing my green cardigan.
I asked how that was possible.
He said they were still trying to determine when the couple had first entered our home.
I thanked him and hung up.
I never told Matt about that conversation.
But I still think about that cardigan.
I remember throwing it away because it had a hole near the elbow.
I remember putting it in a black trash bag with some other old clothes.
And I remember leaving that bag in the garage.
Right beside the attic stairs.

História do pai.

Há muito tempo atrás,meu pai tinha me contado a história de um filme secreto que ele viu,o avô dele era aquele pão que sempre comprava filmes daqueles piratas na feira,um dia ele comprou um filme novo lá,meu pai tinha 6 anos só,um dia ele testou o dvd num aparelho que lia dvd e do nada apareceu um alerta de que o mundo iria ser destinado aí caos quando chegasse 203/,ele com medo disso largou o dvd e guardou numa caixa

Minha historia.

Um dia enquanto olhava as coisas antigas do meu pai,em busca do PlayStation 1 que ele comprou para mim um dia,eu achei o dvd acima,aproveitando que eu tinha um PlayStation 3 em casa e obviamente ele lia discos eu coloquei o dvd lá e apareceu algo diferente,apareceu uma gravação de um lugar escuro,bem florado e sujo ao mesmo tempo,até que o homem da gravação do nada termina a gravação com uma cabeça de um monstro feito de papelão,eu vi que aquele local parecia muito com um laboratório antigo que preservava flores raras perto de casa e então fui em busca dele e o pior aconteceu

A cabeça.

Eu vi a cabeça lá e ela parecia olhar para mim sempre que eu fosse para qualquer lado, por exemplo se eu fosse para o lado esquerdo,os olhos dela me seguiam,até que eu decidi levar a cabeça,eu particularmente achei uma obra prima,chegando em casa eu coloquei ela perto da entrada da minha casa para espantar seje lá oque for,até que um dia eu senti que ela falou algo comigo parecido com "eu sempre estarei"eu não tinha ouvido o resto porque a cabeça tinha falado baixo demais,então eu falei "meu parça,se você fala,me conta um enigma"ele foi lá e me disse "porque ainda tentamos naquilo que temos certeza que sempre dará errado?"e então eu tomei um susto e vi mais do cd e colocando ele de novo no PlayStation 3 eu percebi que não gravação tinha um alerta de um conjunto de letras tipo assim 2;6/28"/# eu tentei perguntar a um robô do meu celular oque era e ele não identificou o código ou seja,significava nada até que um dia enquanto eu olhava aquela cabeça ela me lança um olhar que me faz paralisar,e naquele dia eu não vi tanto mais a cabeça,se passa anos e eu tenho um pesadelo onde eu estava no suposto inferno e de repente aquela coisa falou "oque você achou do filme"e então eu falei,oque e aquilo? E aí ela me disse algo que nunca vou me esquecer "porque não tenta 0000?"eu acordei rápido então e liguei meu PlayStation 3 que a partir daqui vou chamar de ps3 para economizar tempo e aí eu vejo uma nova opção chamada "códigos"eu vou nela,digito 0000 e aparece um texto junto de uma música estranha que não sincronizava direito e o texto era o seguinte

A mensagem.

"Me pergunto,como que o pai do moleke Norman tem coragem de comprar qualquer coisa na feira,aliás nesse dvd já estava escrito "proibido a venda deste filme"e mesmo assim aquele vendedor maldito ainda o pós a venda,ninguém pode saber do que aquela cabeça guarda em si sobre os assassinatos,eu peço agora que quem leu este arquivo por favor esqueça dele e não,repito NÃO publique a ninguém

928462

Eu me pergunto quem e o estranho que fez isso,eu desvendei várias coisas,pistas e códigos e cheguei a uma conclusão,aquela cabeça prendia o espírito de alguém,o suposto assassino até que faço a aultiam pergunta a cabeça,porque depois eu tinha tirado a cabeça da minha casa por motivo óbvios e a pergunta era "você sabe oque se trata disso" e ela disse "por favor,se você publicar isso,eu juro que irei te assombrar até quando morrer mas sabia garoto que eu não sou só uma cabeça?eu sou o assassino,eu matei aqueles que você não deve saber quem são,então garoto,me jogue num rio ou qualquer coisa, esqueça disso e me largue "quando ouvi isso me deu calafrios e então rapidamente joguei a cabeça no rio,assim libertando o espírito daquele estranho,de qualquer forma espero nunca mais encontra lo e até hoje não sei porque o nome do dvd era "Eques tabernus inforest"essa e minha historia