Creepy Pasta - BasilMarket Forum

Creepy Pasta

basilmarket.com forums : Chat | 16 posts archived

thread starter LethalJakeFTW Aug 13 2009 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Post your favorite creepy pasta. There was a thread about it but it died awhile ago. Post please

Crovis 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Whats an ITT?

LethalJakeFTW 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Internet Talk thread I think

sheebal 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

LethalJakeFTW : The world :D This object is 1 of 538? How does it relate

darkstarx7 Aug 13 2009 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Crovis : Whats an ITT? In This Thread. @above: 1 of 538, meaning there's 538 other patients with that same item. Which are the items that you shouldn't bring together.

Crovis 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

I dont get it but ok... Also, that Patient#17893 or something story doesnt seem to be finished? Or is it left to imagination?

tiganior1 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Crovis : I dont get it but ok... Also, that Patient#17893 or something story doesnt seem to be finished? Or is it left to imagination? You got it.

SwiftStratos 08/13/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Panicka : Pasta? Lasanga. You're NEVER funny. Sorry.

KoKillmu 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

"Glitch" I used to use the computer a lot. I would stay up late just surfing the web, playing games I�d beaten long ago. I guess it became an obsession. It got so bad that I would stay up till midnight just doing nothing. I tried to stop. Sometimes I could manage to go to sleep early, but lately I�ve never been in bed before eleven. It�s weird, I never feel like this during the day. I can handle not being on the computer in the morning. I get lots of stuff done; cleaning up, studying, pretty much being a productive person. But now things have gotten worse. I started feeling really bad after going to sleep. It would hit me while I was on the computer that my eyes were really burning. Only when they started tearing up would my gaze be broken from the screen and realize I hadn�t been blinking. Weirder things started happening when I blinked too. It started out harmless. Web pages would load real slowly. My mouse would freeze. Programs would start ending randomly. Nothing actually out of the ordinary. I would just refresh the page, reconnect the mouse, and press end now. But it got worse. I got on the computer one night to find it was completely shut down. I always suspend the computer when I log off, so this struck me as odd. When it started up again, it entered safe mode. After fiddling with the settings, I finally got it working again. For maybe two weeks things went on without a fuss. I was browsing a blog, just slowly reading and scrolling down when a picture showed up. It was one of those awful pictures of a dead body, like, someone who had been in a car crash or explosion. It wasn�t a pop-up or anything. It was part of the blog. I was a bit concerned, the blog made no mention of this and had never used pictures before. I scrolled down so the picture was gone, and the blog continued like nothing strange was up. I stopped going on the blog eventually. More and more gruesome pictures were showing up. I commented on one entry about it and was met with confusion. No one else was complaining. I wrote it off as some in joke to get rid of all the noobs. Other sites I frequent are taking up this shock picture trick. It�s becoming a real pain. I�m starting to fear clicking on every link. I closed internet explorer today to find my background had been changed to another horrible photo. I couldn�t help but recognize this one. It was one I saw in drivers� ed of a particularly gruesome drunk driving incident. After resetting my background, deleting the picture I had apparently saved to my hard drive, cleaning up and defragging my hard drive, I opened the recycling bin to get rid of it once and for all. I was a bit stunned. My bin was full of all sorts of random things I knew I never saved. There were illegal downloads, pictures, e-mails, and other files with extensions I wasn�t familiar with. I cleared them all and decided I get some outside help. I started looking online for any similar incidents. With no results I called Geek Squad, my Dad, and even broug

LethalJakeFTW 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

@above: wasn't his eyes missing in that epsode?

tiganior1 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

LethalJakeFTW : @above: wasn't his eyes missing in that epsode? -goes check-

AznBoi5800 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

Yay these stories entertain me!

Shugu 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

i got two funny creepypastas to share as well. Once, there was a boy who loved to read. He read everything he could get his hands on, and loved going to his favorite book store. One day, the boy realized he had read everything the store had to offer. He confronted the owner, and asked him if he had anything the boy had never checked out. The owner said why, yes, I do, and pulled out a book called �Death�. He gladly sold it to the boy at a discounted price of $50. However, he warned the boy, never to read the front page. Well, the boy returned to his house and read the book, and he was content. However, he always wondered, what could be on that front page, it was always in the back of his mind. One day, the temptation was too much for the boy, and he flipped to the very front of the book, and dropped the book in HORROR. There, in bold print, was MSRP $6.99 (MSRP= Manufacturer's suggested retail price) 2nd one- So this man and a young girl were walking alone into a dark, woodland area at night. The girl says: "it's dark, i'm scared!" - the man replies: "YOU'RE scared? I have to walk out of here alone" here's a long creepy one (contains blood, omg) Driving home from a friends house, you sit at a red light when you hear a familiar tone from your phone, sitting in the passenger seat. A text message. Probably from your friend; you always leave things at their homes. Being a responsible driver, and the light still red, you open the message and wait for a moment for the image to load. Suddenly, a photo pops into view. Red, obscured, strange contrast. And no text accompanying it. But the light is green, so you close your phone and go back to driving, wondering vaguely what that was, and who would have sent you it. Perhaps someone accidentally took a picture of the inside of their bag or pocket and sent it to you. You�re still caught wondering as you pull up to the next light, also red, and another little tone from your phone. You flip it open, hoping for an apology from a friend, but find yourself waiting as another photo loads on the screen. This one, still mostly red, but textured now with scraps of blue, yet still indiscernible. This time, it takes an impatient honk from behind you before you realize you can pass through the light and be on your way home. Closing the phone, and continue on your way. You sit uncomfortable now as the tone rings again, at yet another stop signal. You pause, hesitate, and then open the phone. The picture now is suddenly much more clear. That scrap of blue seems to be the ragged edge of a bit of denim, half blood soaked and laying across a pile of entrails, torn straight through the back of a human torso. You can only see from the bottom of the shoulder blade to the tops of the thighs, but its unmistakably human. Blue-white spinal bone smeared in blood, tubes of intestine trailing out between ragged looking spinal tissue and going out of the frame of the picture. You choke back a throat full of bile and throw the phone back

tiganior1 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

AznBoi5800 : Yay these stories entertain me! REVIVED THREAD IS REVIVED. Deeper Darkness There is a moment each leap year, at exactly three minutes past three on the morning of February twenty-ninth. If you possess the courage, await that moment in darkened room, with no other present. At that moment, the darkness will deepen. If you were to hold your hand directly before your face, you would not see a thing. But you must not do so. No, for that would be to waste the moment. Instead you must reach out, into that impenetrable darkness. And it will reach out to you. An unseen hand will grasp yours. You must not flinch away, nor tighten your grasp. To do so will only slough away more of the decrepit flesh that covers it, and anger its unseen owner. Remain perfectly still, as the withered fingers move over your palm, tracing unknown patterns. Do not move an inch as it crawls slowly up your arm. And most of all do not even breathe as it caresses your face, touching what cannot be seen. Should you remain still through this, the hand will be withdrawn and a voice will speak, so close you can feel its breath on your face, smell the scent of decay it carries. It will ask you for one simple piece of information: your name. Answer truthfully. Answer truthfully, and the presence will retreat, leaving only a whisper in the air as the darkness lifts. "It is done." From that day on, untold good fortune will be yours, and mysterious power. You will lack nothing, and have everything. But in a year, perhaps two, your eyes will sting in bright light, you will feel your skin begin to decay, and the sweet smell of death will be upon your breath...

Shugu 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

�Hello.� The doorbell rings, and you get up from where you sat staring stonily into space. You already know who is at your door, and why he is there. You open it, nodding numbly to the man. You make a note in your head that the man looks� sneaky, but you assume that must be because he�s a lawyer. You show him into your living room, dreading what is to come. The man hands you a CD he produces from his briefcase, and sets what looks like a birdcage on your coffee table. You can not see what is inside the cage, as it is covered in a blanket of embroidered silk. The man sits as you put the disc into your stereo and press play. You hear the sound of stressed breathing from the speakers as you take your seat. The lawyer hasn�t said a word, but you know the breathing to be that of your late friend, the last breathes of your friend. You can hear something in the background, behind your friend�s heavy breathes, as if someone, or something, was scratching at a door. You wonder if you�re hearing things, as the sound is barely audible in the recording. You look up as you hear her voice, as if she was in the room with you, as if she was alive. �The date is September the first of two thousand eight.� Her voice is shaky, every word she speaks is saturated with fear, �This is my last will and testament. Now, I don�t have much time. They�re almost here, so I�ll dispense the formalities and get on with what I have to say. This is the last day of my life, as you have probably already figured out.� �This began with the death of my uncle. I had never known him very well, only a few times at family reunions and Christmas parties, but he had left me something on his will. I sat awkwardly through the reading of the document until at last, my name was called. I collected a small box of knick-knacks and a covered cage. On the cage was a note saying �Please do not unveil the surprise until you are home.� So I hurried home without taking the silk blanket off of the cage. What was inside the box is of no consequence, but underneath the blanket � I warn you do not take the blanket off until this recording has ended � is an old birdcage. Inside of this bird cage , is a parrot.� �I was indeed surprised, but there were more shocks to come. When I lifted the blanket, the bird�s eyes were immediately fixed on me. Its beady eyes shone wickedly upon seeing a new face, and it said plainly in a squawky voice, �hello�. I stared back at it, and it repeated itself, �hello.� I dismissed it as a cute trick my uncle had taught it. I was very wrong.� �The next day, when I took the blanket off of the cage, I was not greeted with a �hello�. No, on the second day the bird didn�t talk at all. What it did do was breathe loudly, as if it was hyperventilating, or at least copying someone who was terrified. On the third day the bird did not speak, but made the sound of a grown man crying. I was very disturbed, and covered the cage for the remainder of the day.� �The fourth day, in a voice not unlike

yanireth 08/14/09 + PM | QUOTE | PERMALINK | REPORT

-revives thread at 11:59-