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Spooky shorts...
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Doreen Kaundur
#1 - 2014-05-11 18:16:17 UTC  |  Edited by: Doreen Kaundur
Something I had laying around my HD. -Doreen

Ever heard of a philosophical movement known as solipsism? Basically, according to the solipsist, only he exists. Since his only mind is the only thing he knows to be truly real, nothing else is.

Actually, the logic follows quite nicely. If the senses are our only means of processing information, and the senses are ultimately unreliable, then everything in your head must be - and is the only - reality.

And that's where the unsettling implications start to come in. That thing under the bed, in the attic, that your parents told you is "all in your head?" Well, your parents are also "all in your head." Your sight, your only source of reasoning, so reassuring when you turn the lights on and gasp in relief when you see that nothing's there? All in your head.

The thing in the attic, however, is another story. You've never seen it, you've never heard it, you've never sensed it, but your body really wants your mind to believe that it's not there.

Now why might that be?

Being entirely self-contained, nobody from LLN contacted the police. Upon examining Vorlok's body, they found him to be nicely preserved, with a laughing smile on his face - in fact, he could have been alive, were it not for the cuts along his arms and the gaping hole in his abdomen.

However, it was the other items in the room that disturbed the other members the most. In the windowless tower, there had been furniture, a desk and a bookcase - there was none. Sconces were no longer attached to the walls. Minus the bed, there was nothing but a notebook and a tape.

The notebook contained remarkably accurate anatomical drawings - inside and out - of each of the other members, labeled in Arabic. They were penned in blood.

The tape contained one single, ten-minute recording. It was released under the name "Mogoutre," the name on the cover of the notebook and the only legible word throughout. It contains recordings - clearly from outside the tower - of footsteps on cold ground and blowing wind.

It also contains horrible groaning, retching noises, clearly the products of human vocal cords - specifically, those of the other members of LLN. I've listened to it, I just wouldn't recommend it.


A man, at about the age of 30 went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check-in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and all, and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. So he went to his room, and went to bed. The next night he was curious as to what was in the room, so he walked down the hall to where it was and of course tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. So he bent down and looked through the keyhole. What he saw was a hotel bedroom and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning up against a wall and her head was facing the wall. He stared in confusion for a while then went back to his room. The next day, he went back to the room and looked through the keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out, all he saw was red.

At this point he was confused and a little freaked out. He went to the front desk and asked the lady about the room. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and the lady said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which are red."


Coffins used to be built with holes in them, attached to six feet of copper tubing and a bell. The tubing would allow air for victims buried under the mistaken impression they were dead. Harold, the Oakdale gravedigger, upon hearing a bell, went to go see if it was children pretending to be spirits. Sometimes it was also the wind. This time it wasn’t either. A voice from below begged, pleaded to be unburied.

“You Sarah O’Bannon?” Yes! the voice assured.
“You were born on September 17, 1827?”
“Yes!”
“The gravestone here says you died on February 19?”
“No I’m alive, it was a mistake! Dig me up, set me free!”

“Sorry about this, ma’am,” Harold said, stepping on the bell to silence it and plugging up the copper tube with dirt. “But this is August. Whatever you is down there, you ain’t alive no more, and you ain’t comin’ up.”


An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn’t certain of which direction to go, and he’d forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He’d sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: “Now your *third* wish. What will it be?”

“Third wish?” The man was baffled. “How can it be a third wish if I haven’t had a first and second wish?”

“You’ve had two wishes already,” the hag said, “but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That’s why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes.” She cackled at the poor man. “So it is that you have one wish left.”

“All right,” he said, “I don’t believe this, but there’s no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am.”

“Funny,” said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. “That was your first wish.”

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Doreen Kaundur
#2 - 2014-05-11 18:17:36 UTC
Somewhere in the world is a shelf of books. It might be a shelf in someone's attic, untouched by light for decades. It might be in the basement of a library, kept in a hidden section that even the head librarian knows nothing about. For some reason, the shelf is somewhere different every time someone finds it.

The books on this shelf range from ancient, leather-bound tomes to spiral notebooks, from modern-day paperbacks to books dating from the fall of the Roman Empire. These books are all diaries, all kept by different people from different points in history.

These people have only one thing in common: they were all serial killers. You can read any of the diaries and watch as the writer, at first seemingly normal, slowly descends into madness with every entry and gains an unquenchable thirst for blood and murder. The last pages of these diaries are invariably unreadable - barely-legible scrawlings of murderous men and women who have gone completely insane and lost all grip on reality.

You can read as many of the diaries as you want, if you feel you can stomach the horrific tales of murders and acts of sadism recounted within. Many who have found these books have even read them and walked away, remaining healthy and normal, save for being completely unnerved.

One word of warning. If you stay at the shelf and read for too long, you may notice a book you didn't see before, right at the very end of the shelf. If this happens, you should leave immediately and never return, nor never try to find the shelf again. Because if you open this book, you will find that only the first page has been written on. It is an entry describing how excited the author is to have started a new journal. And it is in your handwriting.


You get a phone call from your Mother. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken breasts.

After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. The lady cashier makes an odd remark to you, "You know, we're in no danger of a milk shortage." Upon arriving at her house you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In a couple, the chicken and the milk has gone bad. "Mom," you call out, but no answer. You make your way thru the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her head cut off and neatly resting on her lap, is your Mother.

Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. "It's not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into a series of repetitive behaviors," he says.

You think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?" Suddenly your cell phone goes off. "Hello?"

"Hi hun, it's me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too."

"No problem Mom. I'll be right over..."


One day at a shopping mall in the afternoon, a woman was coming out of the mall from a shopping spree. She was in a happy mood. She had gotten to her car and loaded her stuff that she had bought into her trunk. When she was done loading, she shut the door of her trunk and she saw an old lady standing by the passenger side of her car.

The old woman said "Would you be a darling and give me a lift home? I don't have a car and I was walking all day." The woman said "I'd be happy to." So she unlocked the door for the old woman.

As she started to make her way around the car to the driver's side, she started to feel uncomfortable. So when she got in the car, she looked in her purse and said "Darn, I can't find my credit card. I'm going inside to see if anybody found it." The old woman said "I'll wait for you here."

The woman left to go look for help. Then she found a security guard and told him the situation. They went back to the woman's car and the passenger door was wide open. On the seat of the car was a shopping bag that the old woman had been carrying. Inside of the bag was the old woman's dress and a gray haired wig, along with a huge butcher's knife and a roll of duct tape.


A few months ago a friend of mine, who is an up-and-coming nature photographer, decided to spend a day and night alone in the woods outside of our town. She wanted to get photos of the woods and wildlife as naturally as she could for her portfolio. She wasn’t afraid of being alone, as she had camped by herself many times before. She set up a tent in the middle of a small clearing and spent the day taking pictures. She filled up four rolls of film on that trip, but something was strange about them. What she saw in those pictures has stayed with her ever since, and she is still trying to recover from the trauma the have caused her.

Almost every picture was accounted for, except for one picture in each roll of film. These pictures were of her, asleep in her tent in the middle of the night.

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Doreen Kaundur
#3 - 2014-05-11 18:19:08 UTC
A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close. She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.

In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.

Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub. Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".


A passenger in a taxi leaned over to ask the driver a question and tapped him on the shoulder.

The driver screamed, lost control of the cab, nearly hit a bus, drove up over the curb, and stopped just inches from a large plate glass window.

For a few moments everything was silent in the cab, and then the still shaking driver said, "I'm sorry but you scared the daylights out of me."

The frightened passenger apologized to the driver, and said he didn't realize a mere tap on the shoulder could frighten him so much.

The driver replied, "No, no, I'm sorry, it's entirely my fault. Today is my first day driving a cab. I've been driving a hearse for the last 25 years.


You blink yourself awake. Maybe it’s time you got up, you’ve hit snooze three times already, and it’s well past noon.

You slump lazily off the bed, and make your way to the kitchen, time for breakfast. Most of the bowls are dirty, but you find one in the cabinets that’s still clean. After serving yourself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, you make your way to the living room. You don’t have anything to do today anyway, might as well see what’s on TV.

Click. The TV doesn’t respond to the remote. Click. Nothing. Click. Blank. At last you decide to set your bowl down, and manually turn the TV on.

It seems a new set of batteries is in order, but for now, you’ll finish your cereal and scope out what’s on. Your favorite, a CourtTV forensics show. Crunch. You slurp up a bite of cereal as you scope out the bloody scene; a body lying face up on the floor, a blood stained couch right in front of it.

Crunch. You realize its your couch. Crunch. You see that its your carpet that is so sanguine. Crunch. You catch a glimpse of the mirror hanging above the television. You see yourself in the mirror standing behind the couch, a hammer raised, ready to beat into the person seated.

Crunch.


You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you. You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now. You then drop the phone in shock.

There are no footprints in the snow. It's his reflection.

thats about it... Smile

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Doreen Kaundur
#4 - 2014-05-11 18:21:04 UTC
and now to really creep you out...are you sure you know who is in bed with you?:

link

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Doc Fury
Furious Enterprises
#5 - 2014-05-11 18:32:40 UTC
Doreen Kaundur wrote:
Spooky shorts...


Thought this was mebbee some kind of a Kardashian thread.

Backing out slowly....

☼

There's a million angry citizens looking down their tubes..at me.
Dorian Tormak
RBON United
#6 - 2014-05-11 18:49:47 UTC
Doreen Kaundur wrote:
and now to really creep you out...are you sure you know who is in bed with you?:

link

Damn that was a good one!

Also nice thread

Holy Satanic Christ! This is a Goddamn Signature!
Brujo Loco
Brujeria Teologica
#7 - 2014-05-13 00:33:36 UTC
Doreen Kaundur wrote:
and now to really creep you out...are you sure you know who is in bed with you?:

link


this one was good and I actually enjoyed the sheer satisfaction of the "thing" in the bed waiting to scare the bejeezus out of that poor girl Big smile

Inner Sayings of BrujoLoco: http://eve-files.com/sig/brujoloco
Unsuccessful At Everything
The Troll Bridge
#8 - 2014-05-13 19:25:48 UTC
Came expecting a Haunted Underpants thread.



Leaving to see If I can create a character named "Haunted Underpants".

Who am I kidding... its probably already made, or else will be by the time I get off work.

Since the cessation of their usefulness is imminent, may I appropriate your belongings?
Eurydia Vespasian
Storm Hunters
#9 - 2014-05-13 20:00:20 UTC
Doreen Kaundur wrote:
and now to really creep you out...are you sure you know who is in bed with you?:

link


This actually reminds me offhandedly of something that happened to me. My ex-boyfriend and I were sleeping one night a year or so ago. He had been sick with a fever a couple days tossing and turning that night. I was having trouble sleeping due to it. I finally drifted off for a couple hours. Suddenly, I woke up from a weird dream and, in the bright moonlight shining in the window, I saw him propped up on his left elbow just staring at me with these strange glazed eyes and dead expression on his sweaty face. I was too creeped out to say or do anything. Finally, I say "Honey? You ok?" Without warning his right hand flashes out and punches me right in the mouth. No mercy lol. I groan and spurt out "ugh!!! What the ****, dude??!!" He's still just staring at me and then without warning bursts out laughing and lays down and is asleep. He had no recollection of the events at all the next day.

One of the creepiest things that's ever happened to me lol.
Doreen Kaundur
#10 - 2014-05-13 21:48:20 UTC
Eurydia Vespasian wrote:
Doreen Kaundur wrote:
and now to really creep you out...are you sure you know who is in bed with you?:

link


This actually reminds me offhandedly of something that happened to me. My ex-boyfriend and I were sleeping one night a year or so ago. He had been sick with a fever a couple days tossing and turning that night. I was having trouble sleeping due to it. I finally drifted off for a couple hours. Suddenly, I woke up from a weird dream and, in the bright moonlight shining in the window, I saw him propped up on his left elbow just staring at me with these strange glazed eyes and dead expression on his sweaty face. I was too creeped out to say or do anything. Finally, I say "Honey? You ok?" Without warning his right hand flashes out and punches me right in the mouth. No mercy lol. I groan and spurt out "ugh!!! What the ****, dude??!!" He's still just staring at me and then without warning bursts out laughing and lays down and is asleep. He had no recollection of the events at all the next day.

One of the creepiest things that's ever happened to me lol.


Shocked
I can see why he is an "ex" now.

Possible cause: nighttime cold remedies will have strange effects on some people..especially if they contain codeine and are mixed with othe meds.

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Dorian Tormak
RBON United
#11 - 2014-05-14 01:54:46 UTC
Could be one of those night terrors also, my brother used to do crazy **** when he was sleep walking.

That is pretty fuk'd though/

Holy Satanic Christ! This is a Goddamn Signature!