Part of Everything posted:

100% true story:

Hazo posted:

Was that the episode where a worker claimed they once saw a torso peeking around the stacks, so they set up a full-spectrum camera in the same place, then didn't catch anything except in one specific mode (infrared maybe?) where a body very clearly and deliberately leans around the edge, stares at the camera, then leans back? I can't stand most of those I HEARD A NOISE ghost shows, but that was seriously one of the most chilling things I've ever seen.

edit: S8E05 "Due Date With Death." I had it backwards-- the regular motion-highlighting camera caught it, but nothing showed up on thermal.

Kimmalah posted:

Mr. Gibbycrumbles posted:

Also The Intruder can cast Magic Missile, but only on a Tuesday, and also if you don't look at it, the Intruder grows to twice its size but attacks half as fast. The Intruder gains the ability to teleport if you are either wearing a blue jacket, or odd socks.

Wedemeyer posted:

Is that the loving Army Man? Ctrl-f army man since it's too long to post here http://nothotbutspicy.com/para/basics/

quote:

Many Hands

Ten seconds ago it had been a sausage, now it was a single human hand, neatly sheared off at the wrist. 

Jonno had been fixing some wiring issue when the whole sausage machine started pumping backwards. The sausages on the line went in, and squealing beasts came out. The lads on the line had been having a lot of fun all morning, putting sausages into the machine and laughing as whole pigs came out all mad rolling eyes and skreeeeeeeeeeeee snk snk then charging off the belt until they could be captured, and killed again, and fed back into the machine. The men went forwards and backwards with the same pig for twenty minutes, laughing the whole time. 

Then they started putting in other meat from around the factory and it all went to hell. What had ten seconds ago been a packet of Mrs. Poppers London Garlic Pork Bratwust was a man's pale, shriveled hand. It had a single ring on one of the fingers, inset with a red stone. The jokes stopped immediately. The building was scoured for other London Brats to put through the machine. Nobody was very enthusiastic about it, but it had to be done. 

It didn't take long for them to find more: four human toes without a foot. This little piggy went to market, this little piggy went home, this little piggy got butchered and this little piggy got boned. Two toes were dark-skinned, the third had red nail-polish on it and the fourth was covered in a layer of thick hair.

“'should call the cops,” said Jonno. He smirked, “though I suppose they be more worried about the pigs, wouldn't they? That's family, that is.”

They all shook their heads. Nobody said “if we call the cops, they'll shut this down and we'll never know exactly what in the hell was going on, and it will chew at us in our dreams until the day we die,” but you can be damned sure they were all thinking it. Curiosity, meet cats. 

The foreman decided however, that it needed to be done right. Gibbo found a clipboard, and took notes.

Inventoried herewidth, results of putting Mrs. Poppers Real Authentic London Garlic Pork Bratwust Sausage Product backwards through the mincing machine, with which Jonathan “Jonno” Specker has recently tampered to produce an unusural effect. 

1) one (1) whole pig, alive, later returned to sausage state by machine
2) one (1) whole pig, alive, later returned to sausage state by machine
3) three (3) human feet, de-void of toes, dead
4) two (2) whole pigs, alive, l.r.t.s.s.b.m.
5) one (1) human eyeball, brown, dead
6) one (1) whole pig, alive, l.r.t.s.s.b.m.
7) one (1) human head, aliholyshi

The head was screaming. “I'M NO SNITCH I'M NO SNITCH I'M NO SNITCH,” it said. It had no teeth, nor a tongue, and was missing one eye. It had been neatly sheared off at the neck, and this did not appear to affect its vitality in the slightest. The men from the freezing works were made of sterner stuff, and carefully took the head aside and put it with the other uh, things. After some consideration, somebody stuck a piece of tape over its mouth. 

Please note: all previous detached human products resulting from the machine are now considered alive until further information is made available to us. It has been decided that Mister Gabrionelli, who was given all-hours access to the facility on his request -and granted due to his position as primary shareholder- is to be barred access to the machine until more information can be attained. Please also forgive any unchristian language used previously in the document, which was deployed due to the arisural of a surprising circumstance.

“What if,” said Jonno, “we got a whole bunch of these parts, and we put them on the conveyor belt, and we put them through backwards together?”

At this juncture, a vote was taken on Mister Specker's suggestion, which was agreed upon unanimously by the factory employees and the relevant union representative. It was realised by the employees that more human parts would need to be produced before the suggestion could be undertaken, and more sausages were retrieved for this exact purpose. The log of our results continues. 

7) one (1) human head, aliholyshitve
8) one (1) whole pig, alive, l.r.t.s.s.b.m.
9) Three (3) human torsos, alive
10) Six (6) human arms, alive
11) 5 (5) human legs, alive
12) seventeen (17) human hands, alive

At this juncture work was postponed while the products were sorted out. 

The hands were everywhere, skittering around the room like little spiders while the men smashed at them with shovels, and wrenches, and any damned heavy thing they could find. Several hands mobbed the foreman, and tore at his skin, gouged at his eyes. He screamed and staggered around, guided towards the conveyor belt. The men rushed to him, then tore the hands off and pulverized them until they were ruined pieces of flesh twitching on the ground. 

An incident occurred. At this juncture the foreman was given one (1) cup of tea to calm his nerves. Mr. William Lint was sent for pies at 11:30am precisely, and as of 1:14pm has not returned. His cellular phone was called and he said he was “quite alright but suddenly had a cold and needed a half-day off”. Half-day granted. 

They took inventory of the parts they had. They came from men and women of every size, age and race. Some were in states of greater decay, but some were plump and fresh. 30 people, at least, over a span of several years. Mister Gabrionelli had been up to some mischief and no mistake. The men took the parts and placed them on the conveyor belt. Somebody was praying. Somebody else was swearing. 

Jonno stood at the controls, waiting for the all-clear. The union rep gave a nod, Jonno hit the switch, then the thing chugged to life. Poor choice of words there. 

13) one (1) “human”, “alive”

At this juncture, another incident occurred. 

The beast lurched off the conveyor belt, then fell to the floor screaming on its hands and knees. Large patches of skin were missing entirely, one leg was far too short, one eye was far too mad. Hair stuck out at odd angles, jutting out between wads of scar tissue. “I'M NO SNITCH I'M NO SNITCH I'M NO SNITCH,” it bellowed, and lunged at Jonno, grabbing him around the throat with both hands. Vertebrae twisted and smashed together. “PLEASE DON'T KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME PLEASE KILL ME DON'T PLEASE DON'T,” it screamed, shaking the man's body like a child with a doll. Jonno's head flopped back and forth with a grating of bone-on-bone. 

Two men grabbed the creature by its arms. It wailed, snarled and bit as they fed it back into the machine forwards. It shook, and from inside there was a tearing of metal. Every man held his breath until the noises stopped, and the bodyparts came out the other side. They fed them through again for good measure. About 50kg of sausages sat on the belt.

“I tell you what,” said the foreman, “I'm never eating meat again.”

From the Townsville Times, June 27th 2014:

Mr. Federico Gabrionelli is facing charges of multiple homicide, and will be appearing in court today. Though the police refuse to divulge their evidence to the media, they are calling it 'substantial'. 

SurreptitiousMuffin posted:

Does everything posted here have to be in the 1st-person creepypasta "it happened to me!" style?

Backweb posted:

I always feel like fiction horror stories deserve their own threads. Fiction is great, but when so much of it gets posted I feel that it pulls the thread into a different direction... like how that "Aine" story took over the thread the other year. They really deserve their own threads.

I've been reading these threads ever since I registered and I always feel like literary fictional stories make it harder to immerse myself in the "this may be true" spookiness of these threads. I could be in the minority but I always think these types of threads should be for urban legends, folk tales, personal stories, or "this happened to my aunt..." kind of posts. There's so much real-world supernatural stuff going on that I hate to see those stories get lost.

SurreptitiousMuffin posted:

Ah alright, gotcha. It's never been entirely clear to me whether these threads are fact or fiction. The big 50FA derails of the past (and some well-known creepypastas being posted) had me thinking it might be appropriate. I'll stay out of your hair.

Zippy the Bummer posted:

What's that one story where the author is supposedly recounting a story from his childhood in which he and his friend are being stalked by some creepy dude? It involves someone being buried alive.

Wedemeyer posted:

Was it the one from reddit no sleep forum? I remember one similar where the person recounting him being stalked as a kid and one incident he heard strange clicking from woods he was playing near. Then things happened.

Venusian Weasel posted:

Yeah, that bullshit was basically kills the story. A creature duplicating your key and then trying it out is actually a really great concept for a spooky story, but the writer is just so in your face with stuff saying "hey, this thing is really scary!" that it kills any sense of dread that premise is able to build. It's all telling and no showing.

Venusian Weasel posted:

Yeah, that bullshit was basically kills the story. A creature duplicating your key and then trying it out is actually a really great concept for a spooky story, but the writer is just so in your face with stuff saying "hey, this thing is really scary!" that it kills any sense of dread that premise is able to build. It's all telling and no showing.

Zippy the Bummer posted:

What's that one story where the author is supposedly recounting a story from his childhood in which he and his friend are being stalked by some creepy dude? It involves someone being buried alive.

SlothBear posted:

Resposting one my favorites "The Patch" by Darth Tang.

[...]
Thats all there is to it.

Darth Tang posted:

The chemical angle has some merits- during WW2 our county hosted one of the largest training facilities in the USA, and chemical weapons (mostly mustard gas) were tested and deployed here. Numerous Chemical Corps units were formed and trained here.

The EPA, for local gov't, would be more frightening than a breach in the time/space continium and hounds of Tindalos pouring through.

One point- the place did not smell bad, but rather, it did not smell the way such places usually do. Of course, there were no animals living there, so the rotting feces scent and various musks were absent, which could be it.

Chemicals or spills could account for animals not liking the place. Fumes could also account for why I get lost, and why we felt uneasy. It could also explain why it was built so solidly.

Certain fumes also disrupt electrical connections, I recall from Army NBC training, by causing minute surface contamination of the connectors. Come to think of it, we never re-tested the batteries once outside-we just put them in chargers. And the spring-loaded charger connections are intended to clean the battery terminals.

And, of course, for the military, no site is remote. And back during WW2, access to that area was much easier.

Another thing, back in those days, there was no EPA-you dumped stuff wherever you felt like it. Lots of possibilities.

You know, its all getting pretty simple for me: the design of the Party House makes perfect sense.

A solidly built structure with no doors, no window openings, and an implausible interior layout:

a gas chamber. A place where you run troops in wearing chemical gear, to be exposed to tear gas (or other weapons) in order to learn that their gear works, and how to function while wearing it.

Residual chemicals would drive off animals; chemical fumes could account for a sense of disorientation and discomfort. They trained here from 1939-45, very intensively; up to 100,000 troops at any one time.

That would account for the 'wrong' way the place smelled.

drat. I debunked my own experience!

Another thought that has occurred to me since the whole chemical thing, is that we were firing into a corner. Its possible that the first hits forced the tin sheets back from their supports, createing an opening. Firing in the dark, as I noted, means that after the first shot or burst, your night vision is gone (and we were using flashlights anyway). The weak sunlight would not have been easily noticed.

Nor was it a lengthy undertaking; Flash had five shots to pump out, MD seven semis, me ten three-round bursts. It would have come as a continuous volley in the space of seconds.

If that happened, the bulk of the rounds could have passed through the gap. When the shooting stopped, the sheets sagged closed again. Given the earnumbing effects of shooting in an enclosed space, we would not have heard anything.

If I recall correctly, the missing rounds were at the apex of the corner, where the inside 'wall' sheet of tin met an exterior sheet of tin.

We did walk around the outside of the building to make sure no rounds had hit anyone (tin sheets do not stop anything), but I do not recall specifically locating the exit points. Especially since we were waiting for investigators-you don't screw with the scene of a shooting, regardless if you hit anything, or not. Besides, at the angle we were firing, the rounds woud have gone some distance before hitting ground.

If the investigators made the same assumption that we did: that the sheets were firmly fixed, it could explain the whole matter.

Then and now, Chemical Warfare spcialists are routinely exposed to a full range of chemical weapons while in full chemical gear. This is done to get them used to hostile environments, to teach them that their gear works, and the like. The US uses weaker than normal chemicals, but for example, between 1980-89 14 US servicemen died in such training exercises. The USSR routinely expected 1% losses when training with chemical weapons.

Of course any training exercise can cause deaths; at one summer AT the 49th Armored (TXNG) had 11 training deaths in a two-week period. Avation units always lose people to crashes, and vehicle accidents always take a toll as well.

The place was definately not set up in the manner of defensive works, however. Not even as simulated works.

The military camp near our burg trained a lot of Chemical Corps units during WW2. The Net and some of my own books has given me a lengthy list, and confirmed the fact that there was training with 'live' chemical weapons.

I've e-mailed some of the unit veterans' associations, but I'm pretty confident the whole matter has a logical explanation.

Frankly, it has turned my opinio around 180 degrees. While before I was fairly uneasy about the whole experience, I'm inclined now to think that the whole business was probably a touch of fumes and a lot of charged imagination.

The Playhouse is no more.

I did some net research, and it turns out there was a lot of chemical warfare training done n our area. I brought my findings to the City, and they shrugged it off-but they did accept the hard copies.

A couple weeks later, withot any fanfare, the City re-opened the accessway, punched a road in, tore down the Playhouse, and ripped the whole area up.

They dug a massive hole in the middle, which was then leased to a local factory for disposing of ceramic debries.

A further update:

The Patch is stripped of vegatation other than grass & low brush; its pretty flat, as the dumping, digging, and filling has leveled it all out, although its probably several feet higher on the average.

They've built a warehouse on one edge, and survey crews have marked it all out; with the boom that's hit our burg, it'll probably be a mall or something in the next few years.

Its smaller, now; the City sold it, and a factory complex lopped off about a sixth, and most of the rest is fenced, since the dirt they used to cover the shards is better than the old red dirt, and they graze some horses there. They put a major water main through it recently, and I expect it to be built up within a year or two, given the city growth.

I walked across it a couple times for various reasons. Its nothing unusual anymore-just open field. No getting lost, no battery failure, no 'feel' to it at all, zip.

Maybe toilet shards act as inter-diementional insulation?

One more point to support my chemical theroy: when they dug the holes, they hauled the dirt off; the dirt used for cover & raising the ground level was trucked in. Very unusual.

The red dirt they hauled off has not shown up at any of the City's various sites, includeing the huge dump complex. Nor was it sold as fill.

The only creepy thing remaining: I asked one of the investigators if they checked the tin walls to see if they were loose.

They had checked; the tin wasn't loose.

I said, "that's odd."

He said, "Not for that place."

And it ended there.

vandelay industries posted:

That was the "Penpal" collection of stories on nosleep, I believe. It was one of the creepiest and most realistic "ghost" stories I've ever read; very well written. I highly recommend everyone to read it if they haven't already. Here's a wiki of the story, which combines all of his posts into one place. I think the stories are all over the place on nosleep, so it's super handy:

http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Penpal

Edit: The dude got the story published and was also being shopped by a major producer to turn into a film. Though he announced that back in 2012, and nothing has been said about it since then.

Firstborn posted:

I also like the skinwalker one, where his voice is described as those youtube videos where cats sound like they are forming words, like it's just rote imitation with no understanding of the language.

Anansi posted:

Here's my story:

>be 16
>be black and have family down in Alabama
>they farm and own a huge amount of land down in Huntsville
>uncle owns a big house and a bunch of trailers they put out in the woods for hunting or camping
>down south cousins suggest that we go out there to camp
>know I'm a city kid from Chicago so they tease the gently caress out of me
>collect food, kill a pig and some chickens, and bring necessities to camp out for a few days
>we get to the camp and it's obvious something is weird
>air has this weird electric smell like right before a storm, like ozone
>we think nothing of it and unpack and go down to a little creek to swim for a few hours
>All of a sudden some older white guy and a white teenager come out of the bushes
>he has a shotgun in the crook of his arm and says hello and ask us what we're doing this far back in the woods
>tell him about my uncle, who he knows, and say we're camping out
>he tells us we need to be real careful out here and stick together there was a big animal in the woods
>His son, who is my age asks if he can stay and hang out with us
>he says OK

I'm going to stop greentexting because the story is fairly long and the format is harder to write in.

So we end up playing football. Dicking around with me, there's the white kid "Tanner", five of my cousins, and then four of their friends. In total, there were five girls and six boys. We all were around 15-17.

We ended up just dicking the day away. So, we head back to the camp and pulling out some stuff for a campfire, even though the trailers both had kitchenettes. Tanner says that his family's property sits up against my uncle's. He wants to run home and ask his dad if he can come out camping with us. My cousin Rooster says he's going to go with him since it's going to get dark soon. One of the girls also wants to tag along.

It's about 7 o'clock, and it's starting to get pretty dark. They take flashlights and take the trail toward Tan's property. The rest of us chill. We make smores, drink and kiss on the girls.

About thirty or forty minutes later, there's the smell of ozone again. You could smell it over the smell of the fire we had started. This really nasty, coppery smell like right after you've had a nosebleed and it's stopped. It wasn't exactly like dried blood, but it was that nasty metallic, back-of-your-throat smell.

We immediately think that it's some kind of electrical malfunction, or someone left a hotplate on or some poo poo. We search the trailers and nothing is on, and we can all smell it. All of a sudden, we can hear people booking down the path toward us, and Rooster, Tan and the girl all come running into the clearing, out of breath. And they don't even break stride; they all run into the trailer, right by where the fire is.

We all get the gently caress outta there and into the trailers. They end up calming down; even Rooster is crying his loving eyes out at this point. All the while, the fire is guttering lower and lower, so my other cousins say gently caress it and are about to go outside to get the generator out of a shed between the trailers.

Tanner goes, "gently caress no! Lock the front door, ain't nobody else going outside!" He's been crying too, and his eyes are bloodshot and puffy and his pants are dirty as poo poo.

He goes on to tell us that they went up to his house. His father said sure, he could go out camping, but to make sure they were careful on the way back, and that maybe they should take one of the hunting rifles just in case.

Evidently, Tanner had seen something in their yard a few days before. One of their pigs had come up, ripped up and half eaten. They assumed it was just some big cats or coyotes, even though they don't usually gently caress with live animals.

He had gone upstairs and packed his stuff, and told his dad they would be OK without the rifle because coyotes avoid people. So they started walking back toward where we were camping.

So, Rooster finally stops crying and shaking; the girl already had, but she was just staring out the window with a dumb look on her face. He says they had gotten halfway into the woods toward the camp when they started to hear poo poo in the forest. It was almost pitch black by this time, so they weren't sure at first what the gently caress it was. The girl says that she heard something in the bushes right off the trail and they all beamed their flashlights over there and there was someone standing back in the woods in a little hollow. Rooster said they shouted at him and told him that he was scaring the gently caress out of them and what a dick he was.

He says that's when he realized that the guy was facing away from them. So they keep walking, and they start smelling the nasty coppery ozone smell. They say that they look off into the forest on the opposite side, and it's a dude standing in the forest, backward slightly closer to the path.

So now they start powerwalking and Tan keeps going, "I should have taken the loving rifle."

As they're telling the story, the smell is still super strong even inside the cabin.

They say that after they started walking faster, a kind of low gibbering had started coming from both sides of the wood. And as they started booking it back to the trailer, the girl said she had flashed her flashlight out into the woods to the side of them and had seen something jerking itself through the woods. The gibbering just got louder and louder, and when they could see the light from our camp fire, something had come out of the woods about 40 yards behind them onto the track, and they had just flat out ran as hard as they could to the trailer.

So we're out in the loving woods, and we're assuming at this point it's some rednecks or some poo poo trying to gently caress with us.

All of a sudden, my other cousin, Junior, starts going on about how he went to school with a native kid that was telling him about the 'Goatman' or some poo poo. We promptly tell him to shut the gently caress up because we don't need any spooky talk right now.

But he just keeps going on and on about how it's the loving 'Goatman,' and how we're in his woods and blah blah blah. Now at the time, I had never heard of this goat man or any of that, but then a couple years ago -- the year before I graduated from college -- I had a Menom for a roommate and I ended up asking him about it. And to sum it up, it's basically a loving man with the head of a goat and he can shape shift and he gets among groups of people to terrorize them. It's also supposed to be kind of like the Wendigo, and it's bad mojo to even talk about it and even worse if you see it.

Keep in mind, I didn't know this back when I was sixteen. So my cousin is going, "The goat man's going to get in and loving get us." The girls are all terrified and my cousins and I are all loving trying to figure out if it's just some hillbillies or if it's some animal.

So all of a sudden the smell just goes away. Like to this day, I haven't even experienced anything like it. Like, usually smells fade away or lessen. It just literally was there one second and then not the second.

So it's after an hour, making it around 9 or 10. We've stopped making GBS threads bricks enough to go back outside and stoke the fire again. We figure it was just some assholes trying to gently caress with us, so we don't go back home, because we think if we do, they'll chase us through the woods or some crazy poo poo.

Nothing else weird happens that night. And we stay another night, and for the main part of the night nothing happens. At about 1 in the morning, we're outside getting drunk and telling ghost stories. As someone is finishing some 2spooky story -- I don't remember what about -- the smell comes back. It's so loving strong, that one of the girls literally starts vomiting.

I stand up, and you can actually feel how clammy the air is. I say we should get inside and this isn't right; we should have just loving left.

We all go back inside, and we're standing around. My cousin just keeps going on about how it's the goat man. And my cousin Rooster tries to shut him the gently caress up, and all the while I'm just feeling that something is wrong, and I can't figure out what the gently caress it is.

We end up sitting in there for a while; the smell is just as strong, and we're terrified and all huddled in this camper. We end up cooking brats for everybody because nobody wants to go outside. It's one of those packs with 4 brats. We have a total of 3 packs. I grill them up on the stove and give everybody a hot dog. I get mine. After a while, one of my cousins gets up and goes over to the pot to get another one.

He starts grumbling about about how I get two brats and everybody else only got one, and I look at him like he's loving stupid. I tell him that everybody only got one because there were only 12 brats, if he wants more he should open up a new pack and cook some more.

That's when the girl that had been out with Rooster and Tan just starts screaming, "OH JESUS, OH LORD, GET IT OUT!" She's crying and shivering, and then it dawns on the cousin standing up what the gently caress is wrong. Me and him both glance around the room, and then I feel my heart loving sink. I run the gently caress out of the cabin and the girl runs out with us. The trailer door is banging against the side of the trailer as everybody books out of the cabin.

One of my cousin's friends ask us what the gently caress was wrong. I start counting us. There's only 11 now.

"I poo poo you not," my cousin verified. There had been twelve people in the cabin. But being that everybody didn't really know each other well, nobody had really noticed the whole loving time that there was an extra person. And then I realized earlier that I had kind of noticed something was off. You know how when you're just dicking around having a good time that you don't sweat the smallest poo poo, and you don't always keep track of certain stuff? I'm dead sure that someone else had been in the trailer with us, and that they had been there for at least a loving day, eating with us. What makes it worse is, I could figure out which one because I don't think anyone ever actually interacted with the other person/the Goat-man.

The girl kept praying to Jesus and we're all sitting outside; eventually we get big-rear end sticks and go back in the cabin, but there's nobody in there. We count again, and there's 11 people. We go back into the trailer and lock the door. We explain what the gently caress happened, and the girl says that she realized too, and that when he was about to say something, the person sitting next to her had grabbed her leg hard and leaned over toward her and said something she couldn't understand.

So we are pretty much scared as gently caress as we huddle together, and I fall asleep. When I wake up, the sun is just coming up, and half the people are asleep and the other half are packing our poo poo up.

We all want to walk back home, but like 4 people want to stay until the sun is all the way up. And some people think that we're just loving around and still want to stay at the trailers. I just want to get the gently caress out of the woods.

The girl's name was Keira, the one that the Goat-man had touched. Anyway, I asked her if she really thinks it was something bad, and she says she just wants to go home and she doesn't want to be out in the woods alone for another night.

So we decide to split up; the 4 that want to go can go, but I have to stay because I have the keys to the cabin and it's my uncle's and I have to lock up. I'm super pissed at this point, because I feel like people aren't taking this poo poo seriously, and I definitely didn't want to be out in the woods for another night. I spend the rest of the day trying to convince the rest of the people -- now 4 girls and 4 guys -- to get the gently caress out of dodge. Tanner leaves with them to go get a rifle and says he's going to be back. So there are just 7 of us left by 4 PM.

At around 5 PM he hasn't made it back yet, and we're getting extremely loving antsy, and the only reason I stopped begging them to go back was because he went to get a gun.

it's about 5:30 PM or so, when the one cousin that did stay says that the girl Keira is outside. We all look outside, and sure enough, she's standing by the firepit with her back to the cabin.

I'm thinking to myself, if she was so loving scared, why the hell would she come back? And then I get this nasty feeling in my gut. Keep in mind, the whole time the coppery smell has been gone. Now I realize I can smell just a twinge of it.

I say this to the rest of them and everybody -- and these are the people that wanted to stay in the loving woods after we had the goddamn Goatman in our midst -- is laughing at me and asking if I set this up to scare them.

I'm looking at them like, "I'm not loving bullshitting you at all right now." I ask them why the gently caress would I play like that? So one of the girls goes outside to get Kiera. She gets halfway to her and stops cold. Keira starts heaving; I don't know how the gently caress to describe it. Sort of like if someone with their back turned was laughing without actually making any sound. It was this fact that made me realize there was not a loving sound in the whole woods; it was dead silent.

This was like later in September, so it was still fairly hot at the time, but it was super chilly some days too. And you could usually hear big-rear end geese honking or some kind of birds or squirrels chitchatting.

So I step out the door and tell her to come back in the loving trailer right goddamn now.

She backs up into the trailer and we lock the loving door. We pull down all the shades except one, and put a guy there in a chair to watch her. She stands there for another 20 minutes or so. The guy turns to say that she's still there. And there's a HUGE loving bang on the door.

We all jump the gently caress up and scramble around the living room of the trailer. The banging is super loving loud.

So now my cousin is holding one of the girls and the other two are kinda giggling with nervous laughter and me and the other two guys are making GBS threads brix.

Then we hear Tan. He's screaming.

LET ME THE gently caress IN STOP loving PLAYING!

So we go over to the door and open it, and he stumbles in with a rifle. There's nobody else outside.

Evidently, he had walked up to the campsite. Nothing weird happened in the forest, but he had seen a girl. Mind you, he said it was not Keira standing there. When he had gotten to the edge of the clearing, she had turned toward him with the slackjawed look and just stared him down, slowly tracking him as he walked around the outside of the clearing towards the camp. He said it wasn't till he was almost halfway to the trailer he had realized that she was getting closer to him. She had started off by the fire, and without him even seeing her move she had been turning, inching closer. He said he just ran the rest of the way back to the cabin thinking it would open. And when he got to the door and it was locked, he turned and it was about half the distance to the door.

He looks around the room and then gets super pale. He pulls me to the side and whispers in my ear, "You know there are only seven of us in here, right?" I get that feeling where you stomach drops to your nuts. It had been back inside the trailer while we were sorting out who was going where, and then when we all went outside to talk earlier in the day. It has just slipped right back in.

We looked out the window and there is nobody out there. So we recount everyone and then basically, I go over and ask everyone how many people were here earlier. And everybody says 8. I say, "Well, how many are here now?" They all do the count and then realize there are only now 7 people in the cabin.

So Tan had brought back a couple boxes of ammo and his rifle. And he had told his dad that there was some kind of animal in the forest because he didn't think his dad would believe him if he said it was Goatman. He says that his cousin is supposed to be coming down in a few hours and that in the morning we can all go back to his place and his cousin will drive us home.

Now I'm really loving terrified, but I at least feel better because we can be American and shoot the gently caress out of whatever it is if it comes back. But then my cousin gets into this huge argument with one of the girls because she thinks that I'm trying to be funny and prank them, and that she's getting really scared and that I'm not funny. He keeps telling her I'm not that kind of person, and she says, "Well, how do we know the girl wasn't just Tanner in a wig? Or if it's really the Goatman, how do we know that this is the real Tanner and that Goatman just didn't kill Tanner in the woods and take his gun?"

So we loving get into a huge argument about this, where me and Tan are like, "we could seriously be in danger because at the very least someone has been sneaking themselves into our loving trailer without us knowing and mingling with us, and at worst, something bad is in the forest loving with us."

One of the girls is crying and saying she wants to go right now, and we're trying to tell her we shouldn't because none of us are walking through the woods in the middle of the night. At this point the sun is starting to go down and it's getting a little cloudy out.

We eat something and turn on the radio for a while, but we can't really get a station out there with anything decent. So we turn it off at about the time that Tan's cousin shows up. He was like 19, I think. At this point, the sun is just barely over the horizon and he has one of those heavy duty lantern flashlights and another rifle. He walks up to the trailer and we whisper to Tan asking if he's sure that's his cousin and he says yes.

The guy looks behind him and all around the camp, then walks in. He kind of glances at all of us and looks a little confused.

He says, "Where's your other little buddy at? I figured she would meet me up at the cabin. Is she a little slow or something?" He also asked whether we had been cooking blood in the cabin, because it smelled like blood and hot pans all the way up the trail. We are all like loving "NOPE." But we ask him what the gently caress he's talking about with the girl he saw.

He had come down the same trail Tan had been using and he had come up on "one of youse guy's buddies" standing in the middle of the trail, looking at him slack jawed. He had asked her a bunch of questions, but all she did was just look at him. Then, she smiled at him and he said he kept walking. She couldn't seem to keep up with him and kept lagging a little behind him. He said he asked her if she was hurt or something, and if she needed any help. But, she had continued to stare. Eventually, he had been walking and turned around a bend in the trail. But when he turned around and went back to see if she was okay, the trail was empty. He'd assumed she had taken some short cut through the woods to our trailer.

We tell him the whole story of what's been going on. I half expected him to say we were full of poo poo, but he just listened and then sat down on the couches in the living room.

Tanner's cousin gets back to the girl. He says, when she had kept trying to lag behind him, it had kinda weirded him the gently caress out, so he tried to keep her in front of him, but no matter how slow he walked, she was always lagging a little behind. And that he smelled this nasty smell, and it got stronger as he got to the camp. Eventually it got really strong. She had said something really low that he didn't catch, and when he had turned around she had been right the gently caress up on him, and he stepped back from her.

It was at this point he asked her if she was okay, and if she wasn't, him to carry her back the rest of the way, and she just kept staring. He said he reached out for her, as in to grab her on the shoulder, but he must have "misjudged the distance" because she was off to the side of where he had put his hand, like she had moved while he was looking dead at her.

So at this point, we know this poo poo's real, unless Tan is playing a joke, which we can tell he's not because he's almost pissing his pants.

So they load up their rifles, we eat some more, and we just kind of sit around until about 11. To this loving day, every time I think about this, I really pray to God that it's some huge prank that my cousins played on me and just never revealed so I would poo poo for the rest of my life.

At 'round 11, the stink of copper turns into an actual nasty gross blood-like smell, like cooking blood and singed hair. Tan and his cousin, Reese, get the gently caress up instantly and grab the rifles.

There's like a half-knocking, half-clawing at the door, and I poo poo you not, there's this voice, and it sounds like when you see those YouTube cats and dogs whose owners teach them how to "talk." It says in this halting, weirdly toned voice, "Let me the gently caress in, stop loving playing."

It made my loving nuts creep up against my body, and one of the girls just starts crying and calling on Jesus.

It was so loving obviously not a person talking. It didn't have the right cadence, and that's some poo poo that I never realized until that moment, but all people have a certain cadence when they talk, no matter what language. All people have a certain kind of rhythm to talking.

This poo poo didn't have any kind of cadence or rhythm. One of those YouTube cats, that's what the gently caress it sounded like outside the door. So now I'm in full on terror mode. We keep yelling outside "Who is it? Stop loving around man!" and it just keeps saying, "in" or "Let me the gently caress in" for almost 15 minutes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qff9V27Weaw

It sounded like this almost, just not funny. Sorry for being on a tangent, but if you can't imagine how this poo poo sounded, then you can't imagine how hosed up the whole situation was.

So then the smell goes away for a while. And for the next hour or so, you can hear someone basically creeping around in the woods and poo poo. Every couple minutes it'll come back into the door, and say something.

Finally when the smell fades away, it's around 2 in the morning right now. Reese says, "Man, gently caress this!" and opens the door and walks outside with his rifle.

He fires a shot into the air, and says something to the affect of, "In the name of Jesus Christ, go away!" He fires two more times, and then from the woods right up against the river across from the trailer, it sounds like something is slowly jibbering and hooting.

Then it starts screaming and it sounds almost like a woman and a cat in a bag screaming together. Like I seriously have never heard any poo poo like that, and you can hear the brush over that way start to shake, Reese fires over into the treeline and then starts backing into the house.

We lock the door, and we can hear this poo poo keening and screaming. Reese says something had come out of the bushes, super low to the ground and crawling toward the cabin. He had shot at it.

Pretty much, that was how the rest of the night went; it was literally screaming constantly for the next 2 hours, and we could hear poo poo moving out into the treeline. But it never came back up to the cabin until everyone had finally fallen asleep.

Tan had been sitting in the chair watching the door with his rifle; nobody else heard or saw this, and he told me two days later, after the whole thing was over.

He said he had been nodding off after the screaming and noises finally stopped, and he had been almost asleep when he saw someone come out of the bathroom and then lay down in the middle of the floor and go to sleep. He just assumed it was one of us and he had nodded off.

Then he said he kind of realized something was wrong, and while pretending to be sleeping, he counted us. There were 9 people in the cabin. He basically didn't want to try to shoot at the loving thing in the cabin and have it kill us all then and there, or have Reese wake up and start shooting and then we kill ourselves. So he just stayed awake all night, pretending to be asleep.

He said sometimes, it would stand up and kind of do this weird jittery thing, or heave like it was laughing. But then it would lay back down.

The story closes pretty weak, because from my perspective nothing happened. We woke up. And I noticed that Tan was a little jittery, and that he was avoiding looking at all of us. But we ate some breakfast, packed up and started walking to his house. He stayed last in the cabin and said he'd lock up and bring me my uncle's keys; to just start walking and he'd catch up. Which I didn't really want to loving do.

We got a little bit up the path, and when he came running up, basically we just jogged back to his house. His cousin took us home.

There was a window in the bathroom. Tan had gone back to lock up and looked in there. We were too stupid to lock a screenless window. The window was loving up when he went in there.

I'm guessing it had been doing that all along, waiting for us to fall asleep or slip up and then getting in among us. It walked with us all the Goddamn way back to his house, and then he said it lagged to the back of the group and looked him dead in the eyes before walking into the woods.

vandelay industries posted:

That was the "Penpal" collection of stories on nosleep, I believe. It was one of the creepiest and most realistic "ghost" stories I've ever read; very well written. I highly recommend everyone to read it if they haven't already. Here's a wiki of the story, which combines all of his posts into one place. I think the stories are all over the place on nosleep, so it's super handy:

http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Penpal

Edit: The dude got the story published and was also being shopped by a major producer to turn into a film. Though he announced that back in 2012, and nothing has been said about it since then.

Accordion Man posted:

That was some good poo poo, but there is one problem with it though. It makes no sense why the stalker wouldn't have just kidnapped the protagonist a lot sooner if he was already able to break into their house and take the protagonist into the woods. It felt like the author originally planed it all to be supernatural but changed it without revising that.

Accordion Man posted:

That was some good poo poo, but there is one problem with it though. It makes no sense why the stalker wouldn't have just kidnapped the protagonist a lot sooner if he was already able to break into their house and take the protagonist into the woods. It felt like the author originally planed it all to be supernatural but changed it without revising that.

Missing Name posted:

I'm sorry, but every time I hear about Goatman, I always think about

Mr. Gibbycrumbles posted:

Well, I'd say he qualifies as a "shapeshifter"

Mr. Gibbycrumbles posted:

Well, I'd say he qualifies as a "shapeshifter"

Madkal posted:

Not a story of my own, but one thing that I read online that has always freaked me out is stories about black-eyed children.