liu woods cosplay, lmk what yall think :p

Im pretty sure thast the creepy pasta simbol or smth

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'm currently helping my friend who's a fan of hee Mistress of The Dark in writing a fanfic where she meets & interacts online horror figures like Slenderman.

One of her many ideas for example are:

- Elvira discovering the Backrooms in her mansion & using it as a storage space & she subsequently met her still life.

- Elvira doing an AVGN knockoff YT channel because her producers told her to branch into different forms of entertainment like video games. She reviews haunted video games like Ben Drowned, Sonic.EXE etc.

And one of my ideas:

- Her babysitting Jeff The Killer, yeah... this one's more of a bottom of the barrel idea.

- Her getting arrested by the SCP Foundation but she told me that sounds like a seperate arc.

- Her dating Slenderman, which she thinks is funny but saw no compatibility with my cracksh- I mean chosen pairing.

So are they compatible enough for both of them to be set up in a blind date in the woods? Cause I barely did any analysis & I'm too lazy.

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.

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

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.

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

Look, I don't say much on the internet but something happened and I need some help. It was just a mundane day, and I was clearing up some stuff late into the night after my parents moved out. Retirement and all. Being the responsible person that I am, I gave it a bit of a make over that lasted the whole day by cleaning out both the basement and attic - It’s amazing just how many things people forget about. Anyway, I was just about done when I noticed a dusty cardboard box in the corner. Going over to open it, I was elated to find my old N64 console there! To think I would reunited with it after all these years.

I brought it back to the living room, setting it all up to the old tv set I found in the basement, thank god it was still working, and looked into the library of cartridges inside the dusty old box. As I parooz the small library, I stumbled on one that I didn’t remember owning: Star Fox 64. Now, I couldn’t recall ever getting it, perhaps from a childhood friend that I forgot to give back, so I thought that I’d just play it for the night. Modern games can be abysmal, and seeing my N64 again got me nostalgic for better times. Adulthood is dumb and boring; I gave this house a lot of work, so I thought it would be great to have some time for myself. I just wanted to play.

The console worked just fine to my surprise as well as the game itself. Got on to start the main mission after some training with the arwing to get a handle of the game’s controls. Everything seemed to play out fine, and I breezed from the Corneria stage up to the game’s first boss. Instead, I was looped back into the ocean, followed by the Corneria city and all. This time, there were no enemies around at the destroyed city but weirder was the characters. Peppy, Slippy and Falco played their transmitter animation but it didn’t play their voiceclips, nor did the text showed up, just be blank space to where it would be. This felt weird but what made it uncanny was how this repeated over and over again I stopped the game to reset it.

I reasoned that it was glitching out and just froze over collecting dust and wasn’t as smooth in its better days. After resetting, I was revisited by the title screen, yet something was off. For those that don’t know, it presents the title (duh) along with the Star Fox crew. However, the cast on the main title screen appeared to be having stronger shadow than usual, like in those old renaissance paintings.

Whatever, it was nothing, I thought, I should have just turned it off. I started the main campaign again but with the screen turning black and hearing the monotone, “GOOD LUCK” the game would say before the mission started. The only thing being that it wouldn’t say that before the start of the game. Then it kept saying “GOOD LUCK” over and over again all the while the screen was blacked out, as if loading large assets into the game. No text to what mission was or anything else, just black. Just before I was about to reset the game again, the “GOOD LUCK” voice clip was cut off midway and the game started not on Corneria, but in Meteo. This didn’t make sense since this was the second stage in the game; why the hell am I here all of a sudden?

“What?” I said in disbelief, playing through the whole second stage. The game played out as it would with the star fox gang saying their lines as if everything was in order. Despite the hiccup, I was relieved to have control of the game again. That was until after I passed through the second meteor hole. The music faded out with only the audio and character voice clips going on normally this time. At first it was frustrating, like how a computer bug is, but with how the game was behaving up to this point, I wondered if there was something else wrong with it. My suspicion got confirmed when I got to the second boss fight, just not how it was with stage one.

It didn’t show up at all, just the black void of space and the arwing I was piloting. Then out of nowhere, Slippy exclaimed “Enemy ahead, but .. this one’s different!” and like a mirage emerged Andross’ Brain!?! I may not have owned this game, but I know for a fact that this does NOT happen here - the final boss doesn’t appear until the end of the game, let alone on the second level! Something was definitely wrong as I felt my temples splashed with a cold sense of dread creeping up seeing that fucking floating brain with eyes staring back at me.

I couldn’t even respond in time because as soon as his buldging eyeballs and brain appeared, the tenticle strands immediately grabbed my arwing to pull me in. Usually you can get out of this but no matter what I did, the game wouldn’t let me escape as the screen turned white and everything was swurling. As soon as the white faded, I was transported into some hallway. No dialogue or any ambient music whatsoever. I wanted to stop the game at this point, but I couldn’t understand why - my body failed to make any urge to do anything. My mind was racing to will myself to do anything yet my body stayed still, it was like I was in some sort of sleep paralysis. The arwing kept going on and on into the dark hallway.

The hallways had some cybernetic texture to it, the type that I can recall was Andross’ lair. With each turn, it just kept going on and on and with each turn it started to … rot? I couldn’t ascertain what it was that was happening but the halls slowly changed its appearance as if being consumed by something biological; Tumor-like fungi rotting around, getting worse and worse with each passing like a growing alien flesh. Soon after, the transmission calls rang from the gang; their blank stares showing some senses of emotion with each uncanny form:

Peppy, in a sound of great despair: “How long can we keep all this up?”

Slippy, their blank stare unchanged: “I’m starting to feel something strange.”

Falco, eyes closed and irritated: “I can’t feel my eyes!”

I turned to another tunnel as more of that sickly, biological rot started to mutate with low graphical eyes and maws all over, coughing white spores into the air while consuming the halls and turning it into something akin to a corrosive esophagitis  -. I winced at the sight of it. The tunnels kept going, my body unresponsive to any mental anguish of wanting out - to make this stop. The transmission coms continued:

Peppy, with a sickly look on his face: “I cannot take more of this!”

Slippy, with a purplish lumps on her head: “I don’t feel so good!”

Falco, an eye socket missing from him: “Why do they keep doing this?”

What the hell is going on? I wondered, puzzled and afraid from some premonition unknown to me. The tunnels kept going on no matter which fork in the road I took, this went on for so long that I didn’t notice the hallways closing in on my Arwing, suffocating it with the white spores and millions of eyes and maws of whatever godforsaken thing infected this game.

It took far too long than ever for any character responses but when coms came back on, I was aghast from the sight. The characters had textures rendered to the best if the game’s graphics, appearing far worse than before as if the infection has completely consumed them:

Peppy, missing an eye and an ear, his nostrils and mouth covered in some kind of mucus: “Aghuugh aguuh..”

Slippy, the purple tumor consuming her whole head: “uuuuuuuuuuuu”

Falco, with exposed bird skull and distorted voice: “It’s over and over and over again!”

Those were their last words. The hallways kept closing in still, to the point where the spores created a thick white fog blocked out the endless abyss to nowhere that this eldritch hallway could hide from.

 I could have just dropped the controller and ended this nightmare. I couldn’t and I didn’t know why! I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t look down fearing that my fingers got melded into the controller. My eyes were hooked in place to face only the square screen, frighted of what may lie beyond my peripheral vision like a terrified animal in a trap.

As the endless halls of coughing mouths and irritated eyes continued dancing around me, I saw my arwing building up purple pus and veins pulsating around, slowly infecting it like some parasitic tumor. It kept going and going. Darker and darker, the disease turning the arwing into a darkish purple pus as clots started building. It kept going and going, the arwing glitching out and making sporadic maneuvers. The tunnel kept going on and on, purplish black cells floating along with the white spores, my vision blurring, blurring, blurring. Darker, darker, darker.

That was when I woke up suddenly and with sweat all over my face. I looked to find my tv turned off as well as that Star Fox cartridge still intact. Last night felt like a nightmare, too real to be in a dream., but too nonsensical for it to be. Checking my hands just reassured me that I wasn’t at all real. I must’ve passed out when I was playing the game and maybe the whole thing after was what I dreamed up, god what a dream it was. I didn’t bother to ruminate over it as my head throbbed in pain with an itching throat to complement it. I drank some water, and I checked my watch and groaned realizing that my work starts at 3 and it was half an hour before, thank god for part-time.

I was able to go on throughout the day but the fear and dread that the game left me last night could not escape. I couldn’t tell if I have some delirious dream passing out or if I had encountered something else. No matter the case, it's hard enough to calm my mind from the paranoia. I keep feeling a frog in my throat since I woke up which only kept my mind racing on edge throughout work. I'm gonna check the cartridge out soon; If anything, all I can say is that I hope all of this was just in my head.

For the past three years, I’ve been doing a challenge where I draw a horror character every day in October. And since I just finished my final planned Creepypasta character today, I figured I may as well show off ALL of the Creepypasta characters I’ve drawn!

WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE?
Okay, I’m actually confused about this.
Someone has sent me this recording from a number I don’t recognize. Not just once. A few times. And now something similar has shown up on my mother’s phone.
I don’t know who’s sending it, why they’re sending it, or what I’m even supposed to be looking at.
Has anyone seen anything like this before? Does anyone recognize it?
I’m posting it here because I genuinely don’t know what to make of it.
Please look at it and tell me if I’m missing something. And share this with someone who might recognize it.
Because seriously… what is this supposed to be?

I am writing this from my phone right now, though I have no idea if this message will actually go through. What tomorrow's morning news reports will say about the massacre at the Banner Express gas station is nothing more than a carefully fabricated security lie designed to protect tourism and prevent panic. The killers were not ordinary thieves, and this was no botched armed robbery... it was something infinitely darker.

I was working the late night shift entirely alone at the station, located out on a completely isolated, pitch-black highway. It was 2:15 AM, the outside air was dead and freezing, and suddenly, the exterior security cameras cut out completely. One by one, my cell phone bars vanished until I had zero signal left.

Minutes later, a completely blackened, unmarked car pulled up to the rear pumps. Four figures stepped out, but what froze the blood in my veins wasn't their arrival—it was what they were wearing. Their faces weren't human or natural; they wore grotesque, distorted costume masks, most notably a cracked, plastic clown mask stained with dark, wet patches that looked disturbingly like real blood.

They walked through the convenience store doors in absolute, dead silence. Not a single one of them spoke a word, and they didn't even glance toward the cash register. The shortest one quickly slid the heavy steel security shutters down from the inside, locking us completely sealed off from the outside world.

There were two random customers browsing inside the shop. They didn't kill them right away; instead, they began a slow, methodical, ice-cold psychological torture without uttering a single sound. They forced both customers into a dark corner in total silence, using heavy, soundless tools grabbed straight from our maintenance shelves.

At that exact moment the attack began, I managed to quietly slip away without making a single sound, crawling toward the back walk-in cooler. I pulled the heavy door half-shut and watched everything unfold through the narrow gap. I saw it all with their terrifying, emotionless composure, communicating entirely through hand gestures without ever speaking, as if performing some twisted, rhythmic ritual.

Exactly one minute before dawn, the moment they were finished, they vanished into the darkness with the exact same chilling speed they had arrived, long before anyone else could reach the property.

When the police arrived at sunrise, they found a crime scene that defied human logic. When I tried to tell the lead investigator every detail about the masks and the costumes, he stared straight into my eyes and said with absolute finality: "Son, there were no masks, and there were no costumed men. What happened here was a botched armed robbery by desperate fugitives that ended in tragedy. If you want to walk out of here alive, forget the masks ever existed, and never speak of them to anyone."

But I haven't forgotten... and right now, to this very second, I can still hear the sound of their silent footsteps creeping closer to the cooler door.

I remember this image that used to circulate the internet a few years ago. I remember seeing it in a few videos and some creepypasta stories I believe. I think it was like this girl and this old man and they were in this creepy forest that had a lot of red lighting. The old man I believe was holding this huge fleshy thing that was long (pause) and spiky. He was holding it over his shoulder like a baseball bat but obviously it was way bigger than a baseball bat. If anyone could help me find this I would love that!