ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT

Another sleepless night...

 I know I should be sleeping but I cannot get to sleep. My eyes grow heavier, but not heavy enough to to stay closed. I've chosen to watch X-Files episodes. This show brings me comfort and always sparks creativity. Mainly because the show is written so great. It thinks out of the box and makes you, yourself, think of possibilities.

    I know I should be sleep now, I have to wake up at 6 a.m. to face a Friday at work. Maybe they will pay is early... That would be fantastic !  But it won't make too much of a difference because I'm still going to he broke. Trying to pay my bills and save up for my upcoming trip. 

    Damn it's almost 3 in the morning! Shit. 

THE LICKED HAND

A beautiful young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. On the news that night, they announced there is a serial killer on the loose in the area. Before she goes to bed, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows, but the one in the basement won’t lock. She decides to leave it unlocked, but locks the basement door 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 her bathroom. Half-awake, the girl feels the comforting 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 wall in her dog’s blood are the words “Humans can lick too.”

 

THE ORIGINAL STORY IS LOCATED AT: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/the-licked-hand

(This is an oldy but goody!!!!! )

THE MESSAGE

Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…

Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold.. stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.

Behind all the fun, though, there is a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go into our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.

You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.

 

(I really loved this story! It is short, simple, and effective!! Love, always.)

THE ORGINAL STORY LOCATED AT: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/the-message

THE BASEMENT

I was home alone for the week, as my family had gone on vacation while I had to stay and work. It was around 2 AM, and I’d stayed up to watch a scary movie in the dark in my basement. I was intent on really scaring myself and seeing how far into terror I could really go – while still knowing I was safe in my own home.

It was then that I heard pounding footsteps on the first floor. This was a common annoying occurrence when my family was home – every time they passed through the front hallway, past the basement door, I heard their footsteps. This time, fear immediately shot through me at the sound. My reflex was to turn the television off immediately… the basement door was up a flight of steps and around a corner, so whoever it was would not have seen any light.

I heard the basement door handle click and turn as I sat in absolute darkness. I moved slowly so as to be absolutely silent, and crawled behind our large television. As I passed it inch by inch, I noted with panic that its black screen still dimly glowed. I heard footsteps coming down the carpeted but creaky stairs.

I froze in my hiding place, listening. For many long minutes, I heard nothing. Had the intruder seen the television’s afterglow, or had it faded in time? Was he standing in the pitch dark listening for me? I seemed to lie there in total silence for an interminably long time. My panic began to fade, and I began to think more clearly.

Had I really heard an intruder? Could someone possibly be standing there in silence for so long without making any noise? The basement was so exceedingly quiet that the silence itself began to hurt my ears. Could the unknown person really avoid any noise from shuffling or breathing or anything else? If there was an intruder, he was still in the basement, because the creaky stairs were incredibly loud, the door handle clicked, and he wouldn’t know to mask his footsteps on the first floor so that they couldn’t be heard down here…

I began counting in my head trying to pass the time, as drool fell from my mouth onto the carpet – I didn’t dare risk the sound of swallowing. I reached sixty seconds once, twice… thirty times… sixty times… by now my fear had faded and I was more confused than anything. I estimated I’d been crouched in the absolute black for almost two hours, and had still heard nothing. If there was an intruder, none of this made sense… finally, I decided I’d have to make a move. If I did nothing, eventually the sun would come up, and shine in through the small basement windows… and, worse, I began to smell something horrible and cloying.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began inching my way towards the stairs by way of the walls. If someone was standing there in the dark, I should be able to go around them and then make a break up the stairs… meanwhile, the horrible odor grew stronger. Had something died down here in the night? No living person would smell like that… terrible images of some sort of corpse-monster listening for me in the dark erupted in my thoughts, and I moved as fast as I could without making a sound.

Just as I finally approached the stairs, there was an enormous clatter, as of something falling or collapsing on the floor. It was at that moment I leapt forward and crashed up the stairs, running out through the open basement door and my wide-open front door. Now certain that someone was in the house, I called the police from my cellphone and watched my house from afar.

The police came, checked inside the house, and then grimly came back out to question me. They’d found a body in the house – my elderly neighbor, who seemed to have died of a heart attack. Their belief was that I must have left the front door unlocked, and he must have wandered in my house while dying, looking for help. At first, I felt horrible, thinking that I had sat there in the dark while the old man literally died a few feet away.

Then it occurred to me – what the hell was that loud noise of things falling, that last prompted me to bolt up the stairs and out of the house? I asked the police and they confirmed – the back door of my house had been left open as well, near a single bare footprint in the mud. Somehow, for some reason I’ll never know, there was someone else in that basement with us… silent, waiting, and listening in the dark over the fresh corpse of an old man.

 

ORIGINAL STORY TAKEN FROM: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/the-basement

THE BASEMENT

I was home alone for the week, as my family had gone on vacation while I had to stay and work. It was around 2 AM, and I’d stayed up to watch a scary movie in the dark in my basement. I was intent on really scaring myself and seeing how far into terror I could really go – while still knowing I was safe in my own home.

It was then that I heard pounding footsteps on the first floor. This was a common annoying occurrence when my family was home – every time they passed through the front hallway, past the basement door, I heard their footsteps. This time, fear immediately shot through me at the sound. My reflex was to turn the television off immediately… the basement door was up a flight of steps and around a corner, so whoever it was would not have seen any light.

I heard the basement door handle click and turn as I sat in absolute darkness. I moved slowly so as to be absolutely silent, and crawled behind our large television. As I passed it inch by inch, I noted with panic that its black screen still dimly glowed. I heard footsteps coming down the carpeted but creaky stairs.

I froze in my hiding place, listening. For many long minutes, I heard nothing. Had the intruder seen the television’s afterglow, or had it faded in time? Was he standing in the pitch dark listening for me? I seemed to lie there in total silence for an interminably long time. My panic began to fade, and I began to think more clearly.

Had I really heard an intruder? Could someone possibly be standing there in silence for so long without making any noise? The basement was so exceedingly quiet that the silence itself began to hurt my ears. Could the unknown person really avoid any noise from shuffling or breathing or anything else? If there was an intruder, he was still in the basement, because the creaky stairs were incredibly loud, the door handle clicked, and he wouldn’t know to mask his footsteps on the first floor so that they couldn’t be heard down here…

I began counting in my head trying to pass the time, as drool fell from my mouth onto the carpet – I didn’t dare risk the sound of swallowing. I reached sixty seconds once, twice… thirty times… sixty times… by now my fear had faded and I was more confused than anything. I estimated I’d been crouched in the absolute black for almost two hours, and had still heard nothing. If there was an intruder, none of this made sense… finally, I decided I’d have to make a move. If I did nothing, eventually the sun would come up, and shine in through the small basement windows… and, worse, I began to smell something horrible and cloying.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began inching my way towards the stairs by way of the walls. If someone was standing there in the dark, I should be able to go around them and then make a break up the stairs… meanwhile, the horrible odor grew stronger. Had something died down here in the night? No living person would smell like that… terrible images of some sort of corpse-monster listening for me in the dark erupted in my thoughts, and I moved as fast as I could without making a sound.

Just as I finally approached the stairs, there was an enormous clatter, as of something falling or collapsing on the floor. It was at that moment I leapt forward and crashed up the stairs, running out through the open basement door and my wide-open front door. Now certain that someone was in the house, I called the police from my cellphone and watched my house from afar.

The police came, checked inside the house, and then grimly came back out to question me. They’d found a body in the house – my elderly neighbor, who seemed to have died of a heart attack. Their belief was that I must have left the front door unlocked, and he must have wandered in my house while dying, looking for help. At first, I felt horrible, thinking that I had sat there in the dark while the old man literally died a few feet away.

Then it occurred to me – what the hell was that loud noise of things falling, that last prompted me to bolt up the stairs and out of the house? I asked the police and they confirmed – the back door of my house had been left open as well, near a single bare footprint in the mud. Somehow, for some reason I’ll never know, there was someone else in that basement with us… silent, waiting, and listening in the dark over the fresh corpse of an old man.

 

ORIGINAL STORY TAKEN FROM: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/the-basement

HOME ALONE

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.

 

 

TAKEN FROM THE ORGINAL STORY LOCATED AT :  http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/home-alone

GATEWAY OF THE MIND

In 1983, a team of deeply pious scientists conducted a radical experiment in an undisclosed facility. The scientists had theorized that a human without access to any senses or ways to perceive stimuli would be able to perceive the presence of God. They believed that the five senses clouded our awareness of eternity, and without them, a human could actually establish contact with God by thought. An elderly man who claimed to have “nothing left to live for” was the only test subject to volunteer. To purge him of all his senses, the scientists performed a complex operation in which every sensory nerve connection to the brain was surgically severed. Although the test subject retained full muscular function, he could not see, hear, taste, smell, or feel. With no possible way to communicate with or even sense the outside world, he was alone with his thoughts.

Scientists monitored him as he spoke aloud about his state of mind in jumbled, slurred sentences that he couldn’t even hear. After four days, the man claimed to be hearing hushed, unintelligible voices in his head. Assuming it was an onset of psychosis, the scientists paid little attention to the man’s concerns.

Two days later, the man cried that he could hear his dead wife speaking with him, and even more, he could communicate back. The scientists were intrigued, but were not convinced until the subject started naming dead relatives of the scientists. He repeated personal information to the scientists that only their dead spouses and parents would have known. At this point, a sizable portion of scientists left the study.

After a week of conversing with the deceased through his thoughts, the subject became distressed, saying the voices were overwhelming. In every waking moment, his consciousness was bombarded by hundreds of voices that refused to leave him alone. He frequently threw himself against the wall, trying to elicit a pain response. He begged the scientists for sedatives, so he could escape the voices by sleeping. This tactic worked for three days, until he started having severe night terrors. The subject repeatedly said that he could see and hear the deceased in his dreams.

Only a day later, the subject began to scream and claw at his non-functional eyes, hoping to sense something in the physical world. The hysterical subject now said the voices of the dead were deafening and hostile, speaking of hell and the end of the world. At one point, he yelled “No heaven, no forgiveness” for five hours straight. He continually begged to be killed, but the scientists were convinced that he was close to establishing contact with God.

After another day, the subject could no longer form coherent sentences. Seemingly mad, he started to bite off chunks of flesh from his arm. The scientists rushed into the test chamber and restrained him to a table so he could not kill himself. After a few hours of being tied down, the subject halted his struggling and screaming. He stared blankly at the ceiling as teardrops silently streaked across his face. For two weeks, the subject had to be manually rehydrated due to the constant crying. Eventually, he turned his head and, despite his blindness, made focused eye contact with a scientist for the first time in the study. He whispered “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and his vital signs stopped. There was no apparent cause of death.

 

ORIGINAL STORY TAKEN FROM: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/gateway-of-the-mind

DELETE

It started with my friend in Japan. He was a hacker and pirate and always left his computer on, along with AIM and MSN. When he logged out on both, I assumed his computer finally died from overload. It was then I noticed all his posts on our favorite sites were gone. All his accounts, all his videos, all his comments.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Nathan and I’m a shut-in. Agoraphobia. I live in North Carolina and I program for a living. My sister does the shopping for me and I live in a basement. No windows. That might very well be the only thing that’s keeping me safe.

I woke up a month ago, at 3 AM and sat down at my desk, ready to work a bit but mostly chat. That’s when I noticed KaosSrida was gone. I don’t know his real name so don’t bother asking. Besides some spelling issues, he was a fairly good English speaker and I enjoyed talking to him. He also knew everything about computers, stuff I could never imagine possible.

That’s why I wasn’t worried. It was well within his expertise to hack into sites and delete his own posts. I assumed he had gotten sick of the internet. He’d been complaining about it for years.

I tried discussing his disappearance with a mutual friend. He seemed confused, like he was forgetting who Kaos was. This friend was really old. I worried about his mental health. I decided to let it go and talk about sports a bit.

By this time, three or four people had stopped logging on. Not the most unusual thing in the world. People got busy sometimes or just didn’t feel like talking. Only, their posts disappeared as well.

Now, it had been a couple of days since Kaos went missing. And I was getting fairly freaked out so I turned off the computer and watched TV for a while.

That’s when shit got scary.

One of the news anchors was gone. The other would sometimes look to the spot her patner should be and look confused for a while, only to return to speaking as usual. A local show called Three Sisters or something, was now Two Sisters. And yes, the third sister was gone. As with the news, sometimes there would be times where the third sister was important and for a moment they seemed to remember. But then they just kept acting. A cooking show just showed the studio, with no host.

I am a rational man and I was quick to rationalize everything. The news anchor wasn’t used to working alone while her partner was sick and the show with the sisters was part of a plot, I wouldn’t know, I didn’t watch it. The cooking show was harder to explain. Perhaps they left the camera running while they had to leave for some reason, and the network guys didn’t notice.

I had calmed myself and decided to watch something else. I got a TV guide my sister had gotten me and flipped through it. That’s when I noticed the freakiest thing yet. The Two Stooges. I stared blankly at the name, squished between an old britcom and one of those shows about how good the fifties were.

It was soon to start so I flipped over to the channel. Sure enough, the title screen said The Two Stooges. Surely, this was some joke or a rip off.

But no. It started as I remembered it. Only with a stooge less.

I freaked out and turned off the TV.

So here I am. It’s been a month and around a hundred people are missing that I know of. My sister is gone as well. I’m posting this in every site I can, hopefully reaching as many people as I can. If you can notice the people missing as well, my name is Nate Creek and I live in a small town in North Carolina, pleas e PM me as soon as possible.

-

“Hey Bob. Bob, help me out here.”

The man stared at the computer screen, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What do want, Jim?”

Bob walked over to him, a bored look on his face.

“One of the AIs has a glitch.”

“How so?”

“I deleted several other AIs and an entertainment pack so I could install the new versions but this AI didn’t delete its memories and is panicking. I thought it was the lack of a support AI because I deleted the sister file as well, but the memory logs show it started much sooner. He’s been at his computer for hours.”

“What’s he doing? Working? Creative writing?”

“Autobiographical-diary, it says. I thought we didn’t install that module on this one.”

“It’s probably a glitch of some sort. Just delete and do a clean install with the others.”

Jim sighed.

“I kinda liked this one.”

“It’s just a program Jim. It’s not like it’s sentient.”

Jim watched the visual representation of Nate_Creek_5 type furiously.

“I guess you’re right, Bob.”

Jim right clicked the AI and choose delete.

 

 

STORY TAKEN FROM: http://www.creepypastaindex.com/creepypasta/delete

Paranormal Stories: Russian Experiments

Found this interesting story about Russian Experiments that were done to test what happens to people when they are deprived of sleep through the use of a highly addictive gas! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did. :-)

Love Always

 

Cartoon Conspiracy Theories: Aladdin

Here is a cool picture I found on the Net while surfing late one night!  If you have seen the movie Aladdin, it will make you think.. Everything this picture says is pretty cool :-)

Love Always