ok so i will post ubdates when it happens again.,.,. i had a philly cheesetake and i put in in my freezer and when i went to eat it the next morning it was gone.
so far i only have 5 possible reasons:
i think it’s the 5rd one because i don’t know why any one else would be the reason. help. i’m scared.
One time I was at an abandoned house and there was a noise that I didn't recognize. So I got scared and went back home and drank a nice cold Bepis™ from my Kenmore brand refrigerator. I had a good night sleep. The end
One time I was at an abandoned house and there was a noise that I didn't recognize. So I got scared and went back home and drank a nice cold Bepis™ from my Kenmore brand refrigerator. I had a good night sleep. The end
Hey guys norider101 here...back again with some serious scary shit that just happened to me 5 minutes ago. It has still haunted me to this day, and I find that I've been having night terrors since...so stay tuned cause what's coming next will spook you...
It all started when I woke up this morning...I was really hungry so I grabbed some cereal... I got the box out of the cupboard, this morning I was feeling a little bad so I picked Raisin Bran over Cornflakes. I got my bowl and spoon and then went over to the fridge to get my milk. I took out the milk and put it by the bowl and went back to close the refrigerator door when I noticed a list...
On it...were some of the most scariest things I've ever read:
Hello there, norider101. For the next week you're house will be forever haunted by these things:
Sunday: Your box of Caprisuns? Half of the juice packets won't have straws...and the other half...the straws will be bent when you try and put them in the hole!
Monday: Your TV volume will be either too loud or too quiet. It will never be perfect no matter how you adjust the volume!!! At night you will never find that comfortable position to fall asleep!
Tuesday: Your boss will give Randy the new promotion, and your desk will be moved away from your crush Jennifer over to the back corner! Randy will get your desk and have rough, gratuitous sex with Jennifer that night. Also you will only be able to say the word "balimbous" the whole day.
Wednesday: You will be consistently bored! Not in the mood to do anything at all! And your TV dinners will be frozen even after attempts at hearing them!!
After reading half the list, norider101 couldn't believe what was happening. It was a nightmare, a terror, he was living some of his worst fears. Blood began shooting out of his eyes and his chest cavity imploded as a mixture of vomit and diarrhea left every orifice of his body. Still he kept reading...
Thursday: You'll be forced to spend the afternoon with your socially awkward cousins! And the room will always be too hot or cold!
Friday: Your mother and father will die from the gruesome bludgeoning of a crazed serial killer. Your sister will be mauled by a bear and your two kids will die in a plane crash after your ex wife's new husband came up with the idea to do a surprise vacation.
Also you will have random boners pop out when talking to coworkers today on causal Friday!
Saturday: You'll run out of bread!!!!
By now norider101's head has thrown up his whole body, causing him to look inverted as his spinal cord and organs stick out of the wonky, twisted version of a man. The top of his head was now the back of his head, his mouth like a gateway to hell as the horrifying image of an inside out human came down from it like he was throwing up the remains of an unfortunate factory incident. His eyes were glazed, opened far and wide as he looked down at the bony figure of his own body. Organs pumping still as his insides were now his outsides, blood pumping all along the pit where his stomach once was, where it now drips its acids all over the floor, carving pussy holes in his bony feet. Norider101 was practically choking on himself, gags could be heard down throughout the house, but he could make out one sentence despite his spine clogging up his own throat:
"Subscribe 4 more doots, more spooks in pt.2!"
Hey guys norider101 here...back again with some serious scary shit that just happened to me 5 minutes ago. It has still haunted me to this day, and I find that I've been having night terrors since...so stay tuned cause what's coming next will spook you...
It all started when I woke up this morning...I was really hungry so I grabbed some cereal... I got the box out of the cupboard, this morning I was feeling a little bad so I picked Raisin Bran over Cornflakes. I got my bowl and spoon and then went over to the fridge to get my milk. I took out the milk and put it by the bowl and went back to close the refrigerator door when I noticed a list...
On it...were some of the most scariest things I've ever read:
Hello there, norider101. For the next week you're house will be forever haunted by these things:
Sunday: Your box of Caprisuns? Half of the juice packets won't have straws...and the other half...the straws will be bent when you try and put them in the hole!
Monday: Your TV volume will be either too loud or too quiet. It will never be perfect no matter how you adjust the volume!!! At night you will never find that comfortable position to fall asleep!
Tuesday: Your boss will give Randy the new promotion, and your desk will be moved away from your crush Jennifer over to the back corner! Randy will get your desk and have rough, gratuitous sex with Jennifer that night. Also you will only be able to say the word "balimbous" the whole day.
Wednesday: You will be consistently bored! Not in the mood to do anything at all! And your TV dinners will be frozen even after attempts at hearing them!!
After reading half the list, norider101 couldn't believe what was happening. It was a nightmare, a terror, he was living some of his worst fears. Blood began shooting out of his eyes and his chest cavity imploded as a mixture of vomit and diarrhea left every orifice of his body. Still he kept reading...
Thursday: You'll be forced to spend the afternoon with your socially awkward cousins! And the room will always be too hot or cold!
Friday: Your mother and father will die from the gruesome bludgeoning of a crazed serial killer. Your sister will be mauled by a bear and your two kids will die in a plane crash after your ex wife's new husband came up with the idea to do a surprise vacation.
Also you will have random boners pop out when talking to coworkers today on causal Friday!
Saturday: You'll run out of bread!!!!
By now norider101's head has thrown up his whole body, causing him to look inverted as his spinal cord and organs stick out of the wonky, twisted version of a man. The top of his head was now the back of his head, his mouth like a gateway to hell as the horrifying image of an inside out human came down from it like he was throwing up the remains of an unfortunate factory incident. His eyes were glazed, opened far and wide as he looked down at the bony figure of his own body. Organs pumping still as his insides were now his outsides, blood pumping all along the pit where his stomach once was, where it now drips its acids all over the floor, carving pussy holes in his bony feet. Norider101 was practically choking on himself, gags could be heard down throughout the house, but he could make out one sentence despite his spine clogging up his own throat:
"Subscribe 4 more doots, more spooks in pt.2!"
So, It all begins in my weekend cottage.
One day, I saw my cat staring at a staircase in the jungle. And beneath that, were a set of eyes, staring directly into the refrigerator before. I got so scared!
The next day, I went to the staircase and took a pic of the bottom of the staircase. It was a completely different image.. Here it is..
What do?
there is no food
It makes a weird noise and spooks me
I opened a new tab and clicked absentmindedly while thinking of where next to take my nosleep , it was about cults and shit, it was just starting to get good. I stood up from my desk and walked over to my personal refrigerator, and removed a code red mountain dew, when it hit me, the overwhelming sense of melancholic nonfulfillment, I turned to locate the source, and before me, atop my bed, was a ghost.
The ghost bore resemblance to David Bowie with his mullet, "You're an idiot op, wtf r u doing man?" The ghost Bowie wailed plaintively , "Stfu scrub, ghosts ain't real, who are you?" I retorted. "I'm your personal ghost of failure past, you dun fucked up again, and you know what you did!" Bowie stated matter of fact, "Hogwash, fight me, cowardly spirit!" I bellowed , and dealt him a spinning back kick to the stomach, and bowed to show respect for my felled opponent. He flew through the wall , whilst calling "You'll regret that in the FUTURE!" .
As he said that last bit about the future, an unstoppable wave of aging and disability overtook me, and I was shown images of how feeble I would become, "Ugh, this code red is cursed, I turned to place the cursed drink back into the refrigerator, but when I turned, before me was another ghastly being, not two feet away. I jumped back , brandishing the drink like a sword, the visage was... Robocop! "Le robocop, what are you doing out of the fictional universe?! I asked, incredulous at this newest specter.
"It is my prime directive to inform you that you're fucking up if you continue your current course, I am your ghost of future failure." He informed me in his robotic monotonous droning, "bollocks, robocop, you can't be so vague, how am I to heed your advice?!" I complained, "You know, you know!" He said, "GRRRRRRAAAH!" I let loose a manly bellow, and punted him with a golf swing like motion using the drink as my club, robocop flew up without a sound.
"Finally!" I put the cursed drink back, and turned to my computer , "Well well well, you've certainly put on the pounds." My voice spoke to me, MY voice, from the computer. I ran up to the computer, and in a small window was me, "But, you're the same weight as me!!!" I screamed at myself, "Shut your face and think you faggot, I am the ghost of failure NOW! What are you missing, don't you remember what happened last time you left a story you were writing on Reddit?! " Computer me said, I remembered.... "No...no....no...n.... nonononono!!!" I cried out "Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes...." Computer me spoke back as his window faded into oblivion.
I shakely navigated my mouse up to to tab bar, and clicked on my Reddit nosleep story tag.... And the page automatically refreshed as soon as I opened the tab, destroying my story... 25 paragraphs, no backup.... I turned off the computer, and crawled into the corner.
All that you love, will be carried away.
I have no idea why I've chosen now to bring this up. I guess I've just finally reached a point in my life where I can tell others about it. I'm...slightly afraid of the repercussions of outing the story, but I'm going to do it. He can't hurt me now, or at least I hope he can't.
I'll start with the fact that I had a wonderful childhood. I really did! I had all the best toys, the best games, and the best friends and family anyone could ask for. Mom, Dad, and I would often take my friends to the theme park down the road, and spend hours playing with the characters, riding the rides, and eating all the junk food we could handle. It was the best time of my life, and I still remember it fondly. Well...most of it...
Everything sort of changed when I turned 13. I mean, it didn't all change at once. It was sort of gradual. My friends began to not be allowed to go to the theme park with us as much. Soon, we stopped going at all. Mom and Dad started telling me that "we can't afford it" and "why should we pay for your friends to go?" Little did I know that Dad had taken a horrible pay cut at work. They were keeping it from me, to keep me from worrying, but it wasn't working. I was still worried. Worried that I'd done something wrong and was the reason my friends and I couldn't go anymore.
Then, I started to learn my "friends" weren't really my friends. They would ask me when we were going to the theme park next, and when I said we couldn't go, they started to treat me differently. They started making fun of me at school, calling me lame and saying that my parents don't love me enough to take my friends and I to the theme park. Of course, I already believed that, so that just made it all the worse. Over time, kids stopped talking to me. After that, they started actively avoiding me. I sat alone at lunch every day, and walked home alone every afternoon. I thought it couldn't get worse; I was wrong.
One day, when I got home from school, Mom was gone. I found that odd, because she was always working around the house when I got home at 3:30 every day. I called around the house, hoping to find her in the laundry room or the den. No answer came. I knew Dad wouldn't be home until 5:30, so I figured she must have run out for some errands. I WAS 13 now...maybe she thought I could take care of myself. Then...I smelled it.
It was a rotten smell, like someone had burnt something in the oven. I ran to the kitchen, only to find black smoke rising from the door in front. I quickly turned the knob to "off," and slammed the door open. Rocked by the wave of heat coming from the oven, I had to stand back for a second. When I was able to compose myself and see through the heat waves, I screamed. It was higher pitched and louder than I had ever screamed before. My dog, Godric (huge Harry Potter fan that I was) was sitting there, in a turkey pan, skinned and prepared. I only knew it was him because of the missing paw he'd lost before we adopted him.
That's when Mom ran in from the garage. That's where she'd been. I wasn't supposed to find this, she told me. I was never supposed to know, and she was going to tell me he'd gotten out the back and run away. Yeah, the dog with 3 paws was going to run away, Mom. Real smooth. I cried a lot that day, but I guess I understood. Mom and Dad were tight on cash, and they did what they needed to do.
5:30 came and Dad didn't come through the door. 6:30, 7:30, 8:30 all passed with no sign of my father. Mom and I were forced to eat Godric alone, and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. She told me Dad had made her do it, as he didn't have enough for meals this week. He was a good boy, and helped us even after he died, I guess.
Finally, about 9:00, Dad came through the front door. He slammed it behind him, turned directly to me, and said "OH! There's the worst little mistake I ever made! Get the hell out of my way, I'm hungry." With that, he literally threw me out of his way. I landed on my butt and sat in shock, along with my Mother. I knew she always loved me. It was Dad I was worried about.
He took the leftovers of Godric out of the fridge and put them in the microwave. As he went to hit start, all the lights in the house went off, and the screen went blank. Usually, when this happened, it was storming outside, and they'd come right back on. This time...they didn't. Dad lost it then. That's when things got really bad.
He slammed the start button on the microwave, screaming "they said I had a week! The rat bastards said I had a week!!!" Eventually, he had slammed the microwave so hard, it fell off the back of the hutch it was perched on. He turned to my mother. I knew this was going to get bad, so I ran to my room. I couldn't hear much from there, and I knew I wasn't going to want to. I slammed the door behind me, but could already hear my mom screaming in pain and dad yelling at her incoherently (of course, I made out the occasional curse word). Suddenly, Mom's screams stopped, but I still could hear a dull, but moist thud every few seconds. This finally stopped with the giant crack I heard. I heard something hit the floor, then footsteps coming to my room. I knew I had to get out of there, or I had to try to fight my dad. I don't know how I knew what had happened, but I knew I'd never see Mom again.
He finally got to my door. Thank god I had a lock. He slammed and pulled on it, screaming my name. I thought he'd break it down, but suddenly, the banging of the door stopped, and I heard footsteps moving away from my door. I breathed a sigh of relief. I still had to get out, but I didn't know how. I had one window in my room, but it was too small for me to fit through. I couldn't go out the door, as I was sure he was waiting on me. These were the days before cell phones had permeated culture, and I didn't have one, so I couldn't call for help.
While I was figuring out an escape plan, I heard footsteps coming to my door again. This time, they sounded a lot heavier, like something was weighing them down. Then, a loud crack, as my door began to cave it. I saw a shimmer of blue through a small rift in the door; he'd begun to smash it in with his bowling ball, the one from his night league.
Knowing I didn't have much time to lose, I ran to my closet to find the only thing I could use as a weapon: my Little League baseball bat. That aluminum stick (unbeknownst to me) would save my life that night. He was coming through the door, so I took my best batting stance. Bet you wish you hadn't taught me so well, huh, Daddy? I was ready to swing away, and I didn't care how hard I had to do it. He'd killed my mom, I knew that. He didn't deserve to keep his life after that.
The door finally broke after about the 10th hit. Dad loomed there, waiting for me. "Alright, you little piece of crap, I'm gonna erase the mistake I made with that WHORE 13 years ago. Come here, and make it easy..." His speech slowed a bit when he saw my stance. At this point, his head was a fastball down the middle of the plate in the bottom of the ninth. I had to hit it, and I wanted to hit it as hard as I could.
Grand. Fucking. Slam. I nailed the asshole right between the eyes, cracking his skull. He slumped to the floor. He was still breathing, but I didn't care at that point; I wanted the hell out of that house. I ran over his crumpled form and grabbed the house phone on my way out the front door. I immediately dialed 9-1-1, avoiding letting myself look into the kitchen, where Mom was. The police told me later that without me, they never would have identified her.
I ran to my next door neighbor's house (they'd always seemed to like me) and pounded on their door. Luckily, they were home and let me in, seeing the blood caked on my face from my dad's busted head. I called the police and they were there in minutes. Luckily, Dad was still laying on the floor where I left him when they got there. Apparently, his BA level should have killed him before I got the chance to try. He was convicted the next month.
That's all been 11 years ago now. Wait...11 years...he was sentenced a year afterwards, during August, and was eligible for parole after 10. Fuck...gotta go check the latest release records. Damned alcohol defense...
Hello interwebs, I am u/MARTHPRINCEOFNOTHING and I think I am being hunted by the ghost of Smash Bros. 4. Things get a bit spooky, so get a new pair of underwear in case you ass-vomit. It all started a month ago when I was sitting in my house, on my couch, playing Super Mario 3D World, on my Wii U. I loved Nintendo more than anyone else, so I decided to go to a random neighborhood to pick up a copy of Smash Bros. at a garage sale. I liked playing Brawl back in the late 2000's, but now it was time to get some new material. I got in my 1969 Ford Cadillac Charger and set off to find the right copy. I drove through what seemed like endless generic Creepypasta video game story formulas until I reached my first garage sale. I was able to nab a Pro Nunchuk and a copy of Nintendogs: Turtles Edition for $20 yen, but I didn't get a copy of SSB4, so I kept scouring. Finally, after sifting through 10 garage sales, I was at my Final Destination. The last garage sale creeped me out though because the guy running it had to be older than Mick Jagger and he only had one box that said "Memes". Things got too creepy when I saw that box, so I dashed to my car. Suddenly, someone grabbed my wrist and I saw it was the old guy. He had the Meme box in his other hand and asked, "Is this what you're looking for?" and told me to look inside the box. Inside it was a blue case for a disc and a piece of paper in it that said, "SSB4 for kids". I had no idea how he knew what I wanted, but I ignored that and I asked how much it was. He said it was $40 yen, so naturally I yelled, "FUCK YOU!", pushed him over, and stole the copy. I got in my car and sped off as fast as I could. I checked the rear-view mirror to see him, but he wasn't moving and he just laid there. Of course though, I wasn't gonna turn around to check on that guy like seriously, $40 yen for a used copy of Smash Bros.? Lol, fuck that guy. Anyway, I arrived at my house a couple of weeks later (had to stop for groceries) and I was ready to play! I popped the disc in my Wii U, then all of a sudden, my refrigerator opened up by itself! I was really scared at this point so I go and check my fridge. Step by step, I crawled all the way to my fridge and when I opened it, THERE WAS 5 BUCKETS OF KFC'S EXTRA CRISPY CHICKEN! I yelled out in horror and raced outside to have everyone look at me. They all stared at me in horror and I was really confused why but then I looked down at my legs and realized I didn't have any pants on and there was a brown streak on the front of my underwear and a yellow one on my ass! I then was truly terrified and I called the police to report the incident. That was a bad idea because they didn't believe me and also fined me for "public indecency". Public indecency my dick. But anyway, fast forward to 3 days earlier from today and I decide to give the game another chance. It was 12 a.m. and I haven't played my Wii U or even touched it since then, so the copy is still inside. I turn on the console to be met by the same start-up menu and icons, when the game icon pops up with a red Smash Bros. logo instead of the usual blue one. I'm very scared but I convince myself that some nerd hacked this game, probably that cheap old guy. I press the icon to start playing and as soon as it loads up, something was very unusual. The start up screen said, "Super Smash Bros. 666 for adults", and the background was blood red. This time, I wasn't scared and thought it was the hacker. It faded to black and started loading like it should. 12 years later, the loading is done and I look up at the screen. I was met by the same 666 start up screen and under it was a sentence saying, "Press the A button 666 times to start". After a couple of seconds of rapid button tapping, I was on the menu screen. It was the same menu, it had "Smash" and all the other in-game icons there, but it had a blood red background with a bunch of 666's floating in the back like the character portraits. Hacker obviously, trying to scare me again. I pressed Smash so I could start playing, then all of a sudden, the game crashed and a black screen appeared. All of a sudden, the old man's face popped up and started yelling like Loud Nigra. I covered my ears, still watching. Suddenly, the face disappeared and slowly, text begin to show. It said, "reddit is garbage". I screamed in fear as I knew this wasn't a hacker. everyone loves reddit and I know no human would EVER say that. Then and there, I knew the truth. Satan hacked my Smash Bros. I threw my Wii U out the window and vowed only to play PC for the rest of my life. But, the game is still haunting me. I see it in my dreams and Satan is beating me in a game. I wake up and scream every night now for the rest of my life, so I have two pieces of advice for you. Never go to garage sales ever and never submit to r/shittynosleep.
It was waiting when I came home. I knew that my refrigerator had broken the day before so all of my food was lying on my kitchen floor covered in ice or packed away in coolers. I stepped into the front door that leads into my house. I could smell the ice from all the way across house. I was hungry because work had stressed the feeling from my muscles and my head was in a haze. I walked slowly like a slow-motion action scene and eventually I entered the kitchen. I wasn't walking slowly because I wanted to, I was just so tired. The kitchen was normal until I looked down.
All the food was eaten and sprawled across the tiles. There were so many stains and smells. I looked around longer, I saw a dog. That explains what happened to the food on my kitchen floor, but what explains how the dog got into my kitchen. I don't own a dog...
About 10 years ago I was working as 911 operator. Slow night average calls. People getting boned by skeletons, goastes haunting refrigerators, and one guy got his dick stuck in his cats ass he was like "help guise I was like resident or business he say" petco" I say what emergency he say "fucking cat dick stuck won't cum out" I sat hold on help is on the way. Then I hear yelling and scratching turns out man is kill. Cat come on other line and this is when chills run up my penis. He say "meow". Right about that time I lost my shit. I ran to my car but my car wouldn't start. Cut to static. Decide to run but my legs won't start. Decide to crawl but realize the floor is lava. Then everything turns to blood. I wake up. Fast forward 9 seconds. I'm still awake. Fast forward 1 year. Quit job as 911 operator stress was too much. Now I'm a murder detective. Felt like I needed break. One night get call. Heavy breathing I say whose there. More breathing then hang up. I say weird but chalk it up to coincidence. Call back 9 weeks later same breath. I recognize that breath instantly chills shoot down my balls. It cat. I thought cat was prison for life for kill man. Oh no guise he's coming for me. I go home Crack open beer open reddit. Browsing and fall asleep. 30 seconds later still asleep. 2 hours knock on door. Open up there is cat. Then I realize....................... I never owned a home. I'm homeless. Whose house am I in and why is this cat following me who am I. I finish my beer and go back to cardboard box.
My story is from when I was home when I was a kid. I was sleeping at home with all my family when i woke up and looked outside and awoke to see a soft breathing sound. Outside of the window when I looked there was a boy who looked like he was dead but he hung from the tree like a monkey. All his other arms and legs were like they were dead just hanging there. The only clothes he wore was a torn tshirt and on the front of it it said "25" in what looked like blood.
There was a light outside so it lit him up and I thought he was trying to break in to rob me or kill me. He looked like he was very sick and all his arms and legs were hanging dead. He was very pale and his hair covered up his face so I couldn't see it, but he looked very sick. His eyes were pitch black. All of the sudden he disappeared like he was just a patch of fog and the tree was suddenly empty. I blinked and rubbed my eyes but he still wasn't there. I figured he was gone so I went to the refrigerator and got some milk to help me sleep. All of the sudden there was a girl standing next to the refrigerator but she was facing the wall. She had loong black hair so I couldn't see her face. I freaked out and put the milk away and went to watch tennis on tv then I fell asleep on the couch.
When I was sleeping on the couch I had a very realistic and scary dream. It was so real I thought I was awake. I was at a new school and I went there on my bike. When I got there it was dark and dirty like an old hospital. When I got to the classroom there were other students but the teacher wasn't there yet.
All of the sudden the other kids started yelling and pointing at me and saying "you have to stay with him!!" I didn't know what they meant but I tried to leave and they all ran out before me and shut the door. Then I turned around and saw a boy standing in the middle of the room with black eyes! He wouldn't look at me he just stared at the door, but I was scared and tried very hard to break down the door.
I got the door down and ran to my bike so I could get away from the boy. Then my mom called me on the phone and said she was coming to get me so I waited in front of the school for her. All of the sudden I saw my mom drive around the corner and she came up to the school in her car. But then she looked at me and drove off without letting me get in! Then I woke up.
This dream came back to me many times over and over, until eventually I realized the boy in the school was the one who had been hanging from my tree! I don't know about the girl or why she was there.
As the title says, Downtown Julie Brown is trying to kill me. But i don't think its the real Julie Brown. I think its a demonic spirit sent from the 1980s. I have tried to hide, to run. Nothing I do can save me now. In a few hours, I will be dead. So instead of going to the police, or a church, or making arrangements to have someone watch my cats, I choose to write to Reddit.
It all started when I was a kid. I would watch MTV all the time. When Downtown Julie Brown and all the family was gathered around the tv enjoying videos, I would excuse myself to my room and get sexy with myself. I would think of her. After I would finish, I would feel bad about the things I did. See, I was raised to be Catholic or something. So, playing the skin flute is not looked upon fondly. To make myself feel less awkward about it, I would come back out and make fun of her crappy English accent.
"ugh, look at me!" I would stutter. " I'm Downtown Julie Brown, and I smoke fags!"
My family would laugh as I had a great Julie Brown accent. Oh, and fags are cigarettes. I like gay people and would never smoke them. Unless, they were attacking me. Or IF I did drugs and had them as friends, I would make them high with weed. Anyways, I became obsessed with her. I started turning the crank every night and thought of her haughty British accent. I started calling her downtown Doodoo Brown. I would imagine her making me rich and jet-setting around the world with me. I would introduce music videos in my dreams and she would then make love to me. It was fun....while it lasted.Everything changed when I turned 13.
It was a night that my parents went out to the dance club. I was home alone and decided that tonight would be a perfect night to make love to Julie in a romantic way. I got candles and set them up in my bedroom. For Christmas that year I got a VCR. I had recorded an episode of Julie Browns show and was eager to watch it. I pressed play and she introduced the first video. I used that time to grab some baby oil, and a towel. I started going to town pretty fast. I guess I was overly excited. Then suddenly the power in the house went out. All the power...except for the TV. Suddenly Julie came on the TV. At first I tried to remind myself when I recorded this. It looked unfamiliar. Then she spoke."Dirty boy. You salt the jimmy while you watch me?"I was confused. I stopped wincing the witch for a minute. I looked deeper in the TV.
"Chris, Stop pilfering the cash pot!" She yelled.
My wang slipped out of my hand and retreated in my full bush. I felt a rush up my spine as she banged on the glass of the TV. Her eyes turned red and her tongue jetted out of her mouth like a snake. She pressed herself against the glass of the TV. Her nails grew to a fine point as she scraped them across the screen.
"If you ever pull your donkey manger out to play with it while thinking of me again, I will come and kill you and your family." She hissed.
I screamed and fell back, the baby oil splashing me in the face. I passed out.
When I woke up the next day I was sticky and covered in oil. My slippery goose was exposed and crusted over. Julies words rang in my ears. I shuddered. That night when it was family TV time, my parents wanted to put on Julie Brown. I screamed no and ran to my room. High school was rough for me. I didn't have many friends. But I got through it with straight A's and one B-plus. Thanks for nothing, Mr. Freeman. I never made wooby with girls as I was always afraid to touch a real vag. College was experimental and cool. I got to hook up with a few black girls. Oh, and they don't all like big penis. The memory of that night though haunted me. I had nightmares all the time.
Anyways. Fast forward to a few days ago. I had plans to attend a seminar where you get to meet your favorite celebrity from the 80's and 90's. Big names were there. Too many to list. I was there to see Debbie Gibson. I was waiting in her line when out of nowhere this tall, thin, sexy black woman bumped into me, spilling her drink all over my pants. I look up to see who it is, and yup, you guessed it....The real Julie Brown."Oh, my! I am so sorry! I spilled my coffee all over your pants! Now they are ruined!" She said. I was star struck. She was everything I had imagined her to be. I couldn't speak and she knew it.
"Oh, are you star struck by me? Silly young man. I am just a humble TV and movie star." She giggled. "But whatever shall we do about your pants? What size are you?" she asked.
I told her I was a 21 waist size. She told me that she had an extra pair in her hotel room."Why don't you and I go up and you can get them. I am sure we can get into some mischief along the way."
I looked down at her crotch and could tell she wanted me. I was so nervous. All the day's events melted away. I dropped my autograph book and followed her out of the line. To whoever finds my autograph book, please take care of it. It had some good ones in there.
I followed her up to the hotel suite where she was staying. It was really nice. It had a small refrigerator. She called it a mini-fridge. She said I also could have one thing from it. I guess the fancy hotel charged her for the things she took out. I chose a snickers bar. It was good.Suddenly, she was on top of me. She ripped my clothes off and started to grip on my Cobra Kai. I was in heaven. She was doing things to me with her mouth. I could tell I was dribbling. She didn't mind the bush. I fell on the bed and closed my eyes.
Then suddenly I remembered the warning from all those years ago. Ghost Julie was in my mind again. She was laughing at me. I was caught! I heard a gurgling sound and opened my eyes to see the Real Julie Brown turning into a crazed monster. She still had my Benny Hana in her mouth. She teeth were turning into fangs right on front of my eyes. I threw her off and bolted for the door. She grew wings and flew at me. I ducked and she smashed through the door! There was a bell boy in the hall and she pounced on him! She chewed off his face! I ran down the hallway. She screamed after me.
"You forgot your pants! Hahahaha. Filthy human!"
I ran to the nearest coffee shop! I needed to post my tale. I know she is coming for me. She is going to kill me and eat my sham sham. I am going to try and hide out. Maybe get out of town. I heard that three of my friends have died in the past hour! Oh no, I think she's here!
Just remember that one day your refrigerator will be empty and you will be hungrier than you ever been
At first Bill was disgusted by the thought that had quickly flitted through his meager brain. He easily pushed it out to make way for the barren loneliness, self-loathing, obsession with Lenore, and general emptiness that were his mind's usual stock and trade. But the thought returned. Rarely at first, but soon with increasing frequency. It was hard for him to remember time anymore, beyond whether it was morning, noon, or night. But now what he knew was a sick and disgusting thought crawled through and overpowered his feeble psyche for all three. He could eat, oh how he could eat. And he could certainly still drink his Alamo beer, though it was less and less effective as self-medication. But he could not sleep. Drunk, sweating heavily, and days unwashed on that hot, Arlen Texas night, Bill gave in to his depraved fantasy. He knew things would never be the same. He knew he would likely pay for what he was about to do with his life. He did not care. The only thing that mattered to him now was his need to satisfy the dark lust that he could no longer distinguish from himself, or his soul. He slowly, casually walked out of his house, not bothering to shut the door behind him, and across the alley through the starry but moonless night. Arlen was not the kind of town where folks locked their doors. But people on Rainey Street would be sure that their doors stayed locked for years after the horror that was about to ensue. Bill's over-labored heart thudded in his flabby, filthy, chest. At first he weakly tried to tell himself that he would only walk to the edge of the Hills' property, and do no more. He knew this was a lie. At first he weaved somewhat drunkenly, but as the adrenaline shot through his system with the knowledge of what he was about to do his stride straightened. And his penis hardened. Quietly, remembering his basic training for the Army, Bill stalked through the Hills' lawn and slid their back patio door open. He lifted his arms above his head and turned sideways, and as he entered the peak of his large stomach grazed the edge of the door. His fat buttocks brushed against the doorframe. Bobby's door opened silently -- Bill knew that Hank always kept the hinges well lubed with WD-40. The thought of its slipperiness and chemical odor excited Bill. Yes, he was becoming quite excited now. He stepped across the room to Bobby's bed, watching the fat boy, who he now affectionately referred to in his fantasy as "the piglet," while he slept. Bill started to reach toward the boy, but then hesitated in order to wipe his filthy hands on his grimy pants. The piglet must have smelled him, or sensed the impending danger through some other means. He took a long but shallow breath and began to yawn. Just as his eyes were clamped their tightest Bill seized the boy's chubby throat in his huge, hairy, dirty hands. The piglet's eyes blinked open, but it was too late. Bill could feel the throat struggling in an attempt to reopen, but this weak boy's neck was no match for his manly grip. The boy's eyes first showed only wild terror, then confused recognition. Then the pain must have shot through the piglet, because he grimaced, winced, and began to flop pathetically. Bill pushed down heavily on the boy's body, first with his forearms and elbows, then with his stomach -- their fat pushing together, but Bill's eventually enveloped the piglet's. Bill began to giggle, quietly, under his breath, as Bobby's eyes began to melt from pain into sadness. Bill thought the piglet was beginning to look away from him, and this made him angrier, but when he followed the boy's gaze he saw that the piglet was looking at a picture near the bed. It was of the neighbor girl, Connie Souphanousinphone. Then the piglet's eyes dulled. Bobby, for a brief break in Bill's fevered imaginations a human being again, ceased his death struggle. Now Bill could do as he wished with the piglet. Bill realized that he had ejaculated a copious amount of semen into his pants at some point during the strangulation of the piglet. He had not noticed when it happened. It did not matter. There was more where that came from. He slowly unbuttoned the piglet's nightshirt, and slid off its pajama pants. It had not been wearing underwear. Again, Bill giggled quietly under his breath. As he thrust into the tight anus he felt it split, first once, then again, leaving it a wet, ragged hole. The blood was still warm, and it further lubricated his semen-covered penis. It ran down and dripped off of his stinking testicles -- he had smelled them and his own anus even over his other foul odors as he removed his trousers. He pulled the piglet's arm back sharply, and at an unnatural angle, and heard a pop. He was wheezing in his ecstasy. He worried that he would be heard before he had a chance to begin the rest of his night's work. His anger grew again, hotter and darker this time, as he thrust into the piglet's fat little body. He further twisted the bent-backward arm and both heard and felt the tendons snap. With his other hand he punched the back of the piglet's head twice, and then pressed its face into the pillow as hard as he could, continuing to wrench the arm, now only connected by loose flesh, around. Bill clenched his teeth, seized violently three, then four, then five times, and was finished with the piglet. He slid slowly out, savoring the sensation. He wrapped the piglet in the bed covers, and whispered in the dead boy's ear, "piggys in a blanket," then he giggled again under his breath to himself and walked casually out of the room, pausing for a moment to take one last look at his work, before heading back through the living room and toward the garage. He had not bothered to dress himself, or even wipe the blood, semen or grime from his fat, hairy flesh. On his way to the garage, he stopped in the living room and defecated on the Hills' coffee table, smearing the feces around with his wide, hairy, rear end. How many times had he been in this garage, obediently doing as Hank had told him, begging only for the company and attention of his friends and their families? Bill was a stupid and forgetful man, but he knew exactly where Hank kept the duct tape, the tie-down straps for his truck, the drill bits and the power drill -- right on its charger of course. Bill gathered these things and began to walk back into the house. He stopped then, turned, and went back to the workbench for Hank's largest claw hammer, which was hanging in its place on the pegboard. Quietly he walked back through the living room, his eyes and nose fixed on the pile of filth he had left smeared across the Hills' coffee table. The reek was terrible, even by his standards. He knew he would have to hurry now, before the smell woke Hank and Peggy. This angered him, as he wanted to take his time and make the evening last. But he would only have to hurry through the next few steps. Then he could take all the time that he wanted, at least until morning. He walked into the master bedroom feeling, for the first time in years, since his high school football or early Army days, powerful. Quietly he laid everything but the claw hammer at the foot of the bed. Hank stirred. Bill strode across the room, knocked Peggy's glasses from the nightstand, raised the hammer high in his right hand, and dropped his filthy stomach, with a fair amount of his own semen and their son's blood still covering it, over Peggy’s face, as he brought the hammer down, hard and square on Hank's temple. Hank kicked and spasmed once but after that was still. Bill couldn't check if he was still breathing because Peggy was struggling under him. She was a strong woman, of course, but her strength did not match Bills' massiveness. "Peggy," Bill said breathily, "stop fighting or I will hurt Bobby." She froze, and Bill giggled through pursed lips. His penis was hardening again. "Don't you move, and don't you make a sound, or I'll hurt Bobby, remember?" Bill said as he slowly began to drag his foul weight across and off of Peggy's face. Once he was off, Peggy blinked through her grimaced face. She instinctively felt for her glasses, and whispered "Hank. Hank?" With her other hand she reached for her husband and felt sticky wetness. She gasped "Hank!" Bill had seen enough and could stand no more of this disobedience -- she was both moving and talking. Since he was holding the hammer in his right hand, he punched her savagely three, perhaps five times in the head and face with the left. As he did so he screamed, "Damn you Lenore! Do as you are told!" A wave of worry shook Bill. How loud had that been? Could any of the Gribbles, or Souphanousinphones heard? Probably not Boomhaur. He tried to remember if he had ever heard Hank yell from his house. It was no use, his dull mind could not recall. Peggy was not the kind of woman who became hysterical, even at a time like this, but Bill could tell she was scared, shocked, and dazed. He giggled. Hank groaned. Bill walked quickly around the bed and hit him with the hammer again, this time in the forehead. Peggy moaned and sobbed "Hank...please stop." As Bill tossed the hammer to the pile with the other things and pulled Hank's limp body off of the mattress and drug it towards the foot of the bed he said, "Now Peggy, I hurt you and you just kept going. So now I'm gonna hurt Bobby. If you keep going I'll hurt him worse." He giggled again, thinking to himself of the boy's already lifeless body in the bedroom down the hall. Bill could sense in the darkness that Peggy had become tense and rigid on the bed when he said that her little man would be harmed. This excited him. As Bill used the duct tape to hog-tie Hank, he realized that his penis was again fully erect. Lust filled him. He stood and walked back to the head of the bed. At this angle, his befouled, turgid penis and hairy, stinking testicles, matted in sticky wetness, were at level with, and no more than six inches away from, Peggy's face. "You've done me wrong, Lenore," Bill said, panting, "Now you're going to do me right." He reached roughly with both hands to twist Peggy's head, and with it Peggy's mouth, toward him. She resisted in disgust, but two hard punches to her jaw loosened both her neck and her mouth. Bill shoved the first three fingers of each hand into her mouth, pulling her top and bottom teeth apart, and then pushed his penis, the penis that had been in Peggy's dead son's anus less than half an hour ago, into the gap between. The combination of Bill's pent up frustration with Lenore and his long-simmering desire for Peggy lead him to ejaculate quickly down her throat. As he pulled his penis, now cleansed of the piglet’s blood and feces and his own semen but not the bluish-green fungus that grew at its tip, out of Peggy's mouth, she vomited. "Hmmm, looks like someone made a tasty dinner tonight but didn't invite me" Bill said in a friendly voice. He then took the duct tape and tie-down straps from the foot of the bed. He decided that he had heard enough from women in this life -- enough of their lies, enough of their insults, enough of their rejection, enough of their shrill arguments. He had no more use for Peggy's mouth, so he taped it shut as she continued to dry heave. He then used the tie-downs to strap Peggy to the bed, with wrists secured to the headboard and her spread legs tied to the footboard at the ankles. He walked into the Hills' master bathroom, with the dual sinks. Anger and jealousy were all that washed over him therein at these small reminders, the two sinks, of the quietly loving marriage that the Hills shared. He found a pair of long scissors under what seemed to be Peggy's sink. Bill laid down on the bed next to Peggy, his face inches from hers, and said "You know Peggy I'm a barber and I don't hardly ever get to use any scissors. It's because I'm a barber for the Army. I bet you didn't know that about me. It's because in the Army you only get to use clippers most of the time." He ran his fingers through her hair, which was short for a woman's, but seemed long to him, with his own male pattern baldness and his life where virtually the only human beings he had any contact with were men, many of them shaved or crew-cut grunts. He slowly waved the scissors in front of her face, giggling. He grasped a lock of her hair between his thumb and index finger pulled, and snipped it off with the scissors, leaving only a crookedly-cut half-inch or so. He sprinkled the hair down the length of her body. Then he repeated the process. And again, each time pulling a random lock of hair and snipping it. Peggy seemed to have been crying when he returned from the bathroom; he thought it was from the forced fellatio. Now the tears streamed down her face. This charged Bill's anger yet again. What right did this woman, with her home and marriage and child and body parts have to cry? On the next cut Bill again pulled up a lock of hair, but instead of simply cutting it dug the sharp tips of the scissors into Peggy's head around the hair before cutting out hair, roots, and a small piece of scalp. Peggy screamed through the duct tape. At the foot of the bed Hank groaned again, and said weakly "Peg...Peggy...the boy..." Bill decided it was time to put the power drill to use. He got up and walked to the foot of the bed and lifted Hank's hog-tied body, putting him on his knees with his shoulders leaned back against the foot of the bed. Hank was grunting, moaning, and squinting in the darkness. Bill picked up the power drill and chose a medium-sized bit. He stared at Hank as he fixed the bit in the drill. Bill squeezed the trigger twice quickly, and the whirring whine of the drill seemed to confuse Hank as it caught his attention. Bill reached out with his other arm and dug the tip of his thumb into the bleeding welt where he had earlier hit Hank on the temple with the hammer. Hank jerked and groaned. Bill's face was only inches from Hank's in the darkness and he could see Hank's eyes roll back in his head. His head then fell forward -- he had passed out again. Bill took his hand away from the wound and went to Hank's nightstand. Hank's glasses were still there, and the scissors still lay on the bed near Peggy's face. Bill turned on the lamp, and took the glasses and scissors to the foot of the bed. He set down the drill, scissors, and glasses a few feet from Hank, stood up, took a step back, grasped his half-flaccid penis in his right hand, pressed the heel of his left palm into his lower back, and released a jet of hot, stinking urine onto Hank's head, face, neck, chest, and stomach. After a few seconds Hank began to stir. After a few more he was shaking his head back and forth weakly, spitting, coughing, and gagging. After what seemed like more than a minute, and several squirts and shakes, Bill had no urine left in him. He picked up the glasses, which only had a few drops of urine on them, and gently placed them on Hank's face. Then he picked up the drill again. Hank blinked, and squinted at the monster that stood before him. "B-Bill? Bill! No!" His head fell forward and he began to shake, sniffle, and sob. "Why are you doin' this?" Hank asked, his voice a mixture of sadness, pain, and disappointment. "We're friends." "Friends?" Bill asked. "Look at me. Look at my life. How could a friend let this happen to me?" Bill asked. Then, in an overblown voice that showed his sarcasm "I know, because you've got it so rough. It doesn't matter that you have a wife and a boy," at this he turned his head to the side to suppress the giggle that had begun to force its way up his throat, "a wife and boy, a family. No, none of that matters because poor Hank has a narrow urethra. Poor Hank's narrow urethra is why he can't help old Bill." "Well friend, I'm your friend, and I want to help you with your narrow urethra" Bill said as he picked up the scissors. He stuck them in the leg of Hanks boxer shorts. "Please Bill, no." Hank said quietly. "Why not, friend?" Bill asked, "I just want to help you, we're friends, right?" He cut off Hank's boxer shorts and picked up the drill. "Bill please..." Hank whispered as Bill picked up the drill with his right hand and grasped and pulled Hank's shriveled penis with his left. "Please help you with your narrow urethra?" Bill asked, "Sure thing friend!" Bill pulled the drill's trigger and plunged the bit into the hole in his fist where he squeezed Hank's penis. Bill felt his left hand become warm and wet, he could also feel the vibration of the drill to his right hand and the vibration of the bit in his left as it dug deeper and deeper into the rubbery flesh of Hank's penis, boring out a larger and larger hole. Hank was screaming. Bill had only heard Hank scream in pain once, only briefly, the moment he broke his ankle in the Texas state high school football championship game. That was nothing compared to this, though. When all Bill could feel in his left hand was a warm, wet mess, he began to worry that he might hurt himself with the drill bit. He released the trigger, and without bothering to reverse the drill, yanked the bit out of the hanging, tattered flesh that used to be Hank's penis. Hank threw his head back, wept, and whimpered. Bill threw the drill in the corner of the room, and wiped his hand across pimply, hairy, chest. "There, now you don't have a narrow urethra anymore!" Bill said proudly. He realized Peggy was emitting short panicked screams, muffled by the duct tape, and thrashing around against the tie downs. Bill picked up the hammer and thumbed the claw end. It wasn't exactly sharp, but it would do. Standing over Peggy, with a terrible grimace on his face, Bill raised the hammer, and brought the claw end down hard, digging it into her scull and scalp near where he had cut the flesh earlier. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she tensed once and then went limp. Bill pounded his palm against the head of the hammer, digging the claws in deeper. When he was satisfied that they were deep enough, he pushed down firmly on Peggy's face with one hand and jerked back roughly on the handle of the hammer with the other. It was working! A large gash opened on Peggy's forehead, and on the third jerk it connected with where he had previously cut her. By the fourth pull the gash was big enough for Bill to get the tips of the four fingers on the hand he had been using to pull on the hammer into it. Grasping the flap of scalp between his fingertips and thumb, and pushing down hard on Peggy's head with his other hand, Bill pulled back as hard as he could, and ripped half of Peggy's scalp off of the top of her skull. He kept pulling, but the angle wasn't right, and he couldn't get the rest of her scalp off. He got the scissors and squeezing as tightly as he could, he was able to cut through the flesh and hair that he had pulled away. He placed it delicately on top of his own, bald, head. "Not a bad job of barbering," he said, "Not a great job, but not a bad job either!" He then walked to the foot of the bed, and roughly and awkwardly pulled Hank, who was still hog tied, up and laid him on top of Peggy, so that the top of Hank's head was near Peggy's chin and Hanks knees were at the bottom the bed between Peggy's spread ankles. The piece of Peggy's scalp fell off his head in the process and when he bent to pick it up and put it back in place he saw the enormous puddle of blood that had been soaking into the Hills' bedroom carpet. He spread Hank's knees to get a better look at the destroyed genitals. Indeed, Hank no longer had a narrow urethra. Instead, there was a gaping, bloody hole, with tattered pieces of flesh all around it. This gave Bill's feeble and diseased mind a sick idea. He climbed onto the foot of the bed between Hanks spread knees, between Peggy's spread ankles, wiggling his fat, pale, filthy, gory, stinking body into position. He could feel the warm wetness of Hank's new hole on the end of his penis, but he was flaccid. It had been a busy night. Bill closed his eyes, leaned his head back, reached between his legs, and began to rub his fungal, dirty penis with his hand, lubricating it with Hank's blood. He thought of Lenore, of the piglet, of Peggy and of Hank. After a few moments, his penis began to stiffen for the third time of the evening. As it did, he slid it into the gaping wound where Hank's manhood used to reside. Hank began to stir and awaken as Bill's thrusts hit their stride. Hank began to whimper. Bill cried out in ecstasy, "Billdozer, Billdozer, Billdozer!" repeating his high school football nickname again and again. This chant slowly dissolved into feral grunts and growls as the last pretenses of humanity left Bill, and he became an animal overwhelmed by rage and lust. He climaxed hard into Hank's ruined pelvis. Bill withdrew himself and stepped back. He walked to the dresser and found a pair of socks. Hank was coughing and dry heaving. He had vomited on Peggy at some point. Bill stuffed the wadded socks into Hank's mouth and wrapped the duct tape around Hanks head several times to secure them there. Bill had heard of something called a "thousand mile stare" in the Army, but had never understood what it meant until he looked into Hank's eyes as he gagged him. Bill walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway, returning to the piglet's room. He took the bundled body in his massive flabby arms, and carried it to his parent's bedroom, where he laid it, face to face, with its father. Hank began to shake violently, as if having a seizure at this, and passed out. Next Bill went to the garage and got two of the four tanks of propane Hank kept there. That man sure does love propane, Bill thought, smiling his nostalgic smile and shaking his head. He also took the full can of gasoline Hank kept by the lawnmower. He carried the gas can and propane tanks to the Hill's bedroom, he opened the valves on the tanks, and walked out of the room, pouring gas from the can on the floor and shutting the door behind him. He then continued to pour the trail of gas on the carpet into the living room, where he set the can down by the couch. He went to the kitchen, and found a box of matches. In the refrigerator, he found a six-pack of Alamo beer in cans; only one was missing. He held the box of matches and the single empty ring of the six-pack in his left hand. He walked to the telephone and with his right hand lifted it, dialed 9-1-1, and dropped it to the floor. Bill walked into the living room and sat on the couch, putting his feet up and sinking his fungus-infested heels in to the stinking feces he had left on the coffee table. It stank so badly, he could barely smell the gasoline soaking the carpet beside him, and he couldn't smell the propane yet at all. He opened the first beer and took a long drink, swallowing more than half of it. Then he belched loudly, and said to himself "Yup, I'm the king of the hill now." THE END
This story is 100% true, my friend told me when we were both really high, it scared me shitless and I haven't been able to shit ever since hee told he this story.
Once up on a time, there was a little gurl. The girl was yung, and she liked to play on the swings. No one knew why she liked the swings, and whenever her mother asked her to play on somethinng else, like the monkey bars, she would simply stare, and then she would say "Bitch, shut up!" It must have been latin because her mother didn't understand it, this clearly ment that she was processed by a demon.
One day the girl decided to go to the swings alone. She went to the swing set and had the time of her life. That was until the refrigerator fell on her and she was crushed to deth. I know she was ded because there was a lot of blood. There was blood everywhere, when the pedestrians walked by they would say "holy shit thats a lot of blood."
The end Good night
It was raining outside and I was warm and comfy on my couch.
I knew the water couldn't get in the house and make me wet ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
But I looked at the water bottle I had just got from the refrigerator.
And there was water was dripping down on the outside of it.
I was shocked.
I was scared.
I knew the water was coming for me.
Kill myself.
