Chaircore Emojis & Text

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Cavan Observer Published in Cavan, county Cavan September 4, 1858 AWFUL ACCIDENT.--On Sunday morning, a woman named Emily WYNDHAM, came by a most sudden and lamentable death in her residence, Bond-street. The poor woman had been standing on a stool, in her own kitchen, reaching for something on the top of a press, when the stool gave way from beneath her, and she fell on her head on a cradle beside where she had been standing, and, sad to say, broke her neck. She expired in a few minutes after the dreadful accident. The unfortunate woman was the wife of a labouring man, and has left six children, the youngest being three months old.--"Belfast News-Letter."
I Begged You “Please, I am literally begging you,” I warn, but the executioner only sighs and gives me a truly sorrowful look... The chaplain sits beside me. “Once he pushes the button, death will come soon after,” he explains, even though I have heard it so many times before already. “Any final words?” “Just, again, I tell you, begging you not to do this,” I say. clean conscience. That’s the thing, though; I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my The chaplain nods sadly, sorrowful that I do not face my executioner with a clean conscience. That’s the thing, though. I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my entire life. I don’t know why, but whenever I would accidentally hurt myself others near me would receive the wound. I once got a paper cut in class that caused the three people around me to bleed from their fingers. In high school, I was in a car accident, and even though my side of the car was hit, my girlfriend developed a broken leg. I’m always very careful. I take care of myself, trying to stay in the very best of health. But when I was mugged by that trio and he shot me in the face, theirs exploded, not mine. And when the cops came, they found me kneeling by their bodies, trying to figure out what to do and stupidly holding their gun. Around thirty seconds after the execution started, I see both the executioner and chaplain fall to the floor with a hard thump. “I begged you,” I repeat sadly. —stellarpath
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https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/BirthDeath/Default.aspx#searchDB
http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Galway/1909/APR.html ---------- Two youths, Thomas Kelly, 17, and Laurence Curley, 16, in a spirit of play, started to throw potatoes at each other in a Galway potato field. The first named chanced to hit Curley on the back of the head, from the effects of which he died. Kelly, who was brought up at the Galway Assizes charged with his companion's death, was released by Judge Johnson after five minutes' detention. ----------
🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/BirthDeath/Default.aspx#searchDB 🇺🇸
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Gallantmirth I watched the monster's jagged claws inch slowly out from under the bed. "I won't let him in again, I promise" it assured me as my dad crept to the room.
horror story (plural horror stories) (fiction) A fictional narrative of distressing events. The film is based on a horror story by Edgar Allan Poe. (informal) A disturbing rumour. ▼ We've heard horror stories about people being attacked in the elevator. An unpleasant experience. ▼ It was more of a horror story than a vacation. Translations Chinese Mandarin: 恐怖故事 (kǒngbù gùshì) Dutch: horrorverhaal (nl) n Finnish: kauhutarina (fi) French: histoire d’horreur f, histoire d’épouvante f Hungarian: horrortörténet Spanish: historia de terror, historia de miedo f Swedish: skräckhistoria (sv) Uyghur: قورقۇنچلۇق ھېكايە‎ (qorqunchluq hëkaye) ghost story (plural ghost stories) A story about ghosts or the supernatural, often meant to be frightening. quotations ▲ 2012, Andrew Martin, Underground Overground: A passenger's history of the Tube, Profile Books, →ISBN, page 261: There are the books full of Underground ghost stories. An invisible runner pounds along the platforms at Elephant & Castle; children scream in the basement of what used to be the surface building of Hyde Park Corner, [...] Translations ▲±story about ghosts Catalan: història de fantasmes f Chinese: Mandarin: 鬼故事 (guǐgùshì) Finnish: kummitusjuttu French: histoire de fantômes f German: Gespenstergeschichte (de) f Hungarian: kísértethistória (hu) Irish: scéal taibhsí m Italian: racconto dell'orrore m Korean: 괴담 (goedam) Norwegian: spøkelsesfortelling Portuguese: história de fantasmas f Spanish: historia de fantasmas f, cuento de fantasmas m Swedish: spökhistoria (sv) Welsh: stori fwgan f, stori ysbryd f
“Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.” —Alice in Wonderland.
~ -creepypastastories- Monsters and Ghosts Monsters are real, also ghosts They live inside us And sometimes they win

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I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him
I found myself opening a door in the basement and then I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them. I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane. The sand in the hour-glasses refilled. —Human_Gravy
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago _FallenAngel__ A genie granted me my wish to become the most beautiful woman in the world forever Now I sit here in a museum, frozen in a painting for the past 500 years as people passing by admire and faun over my timeless beauty
r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 yr. ago Lightuke After tucking my son into bed he says "check under it for monsters under my bed" I found my son hiding under it whimpering "Daddy, there's someone on my bed..."
‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
The Portraits (a.k.a. The Cabin in the Woods) Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / April 20, 2009 / 1 minute of reading There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage... April 20, 2009 / Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / anonymously authored, cabins, camping, creepypasta classics, forests, hunters, mysteries, sites, twist endings, woods / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell in to a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had not portraits, only windows.
r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago sp00kyscary They're just so darn cute I love being a 2nd grade teacher. The kids in my class are so cute and innocent. They're at the perfect age. I used to teach sixth grade, but I quickly realised how that it was a mistake, whence cliques form, the bullying flourishes, and kids learnt how to be terrible to each other. By then, they're corrupted by bad role models, no respect for authority and no desire to learn. No; 2nd grade children are far better! The parents are still making an attempt to shield them from the harshness of the world. They look at me with wide eyes, eager to learn, taking in all I share with them. My favourite day, is Valentine's Day. They make little paper packets they place on their desks to be filled with cards and/or candy. This year, I baked some delicious cookies at home and I arrived early to deliver one to each student. I’m so excited to see the reactions. I smile all morning. I smile as the kids arrive, dressed in red and pink. I smile as they happily tear into their construction paper holders to see what's inside. I smile as they give me an adorable thank-you once they see the cookies I've made them. I smile as they bite into them. And I smile as they one by one fall to the ground, shaking and turning blue. After all, they're at such a cute age. It would be a shame to let them grow up.
----- Any stories involving triggering subjects must have a trigger warning -In addition stories, roleplay or jokes that include the mention of abusing Insensitive profiles are not allowed, this includes Nazi/ ww2 aesthetics that glorifies Ww2 and any profiles that glorify terrible points in history will not be tolerated including racism, harassment, etc. -In addition to this the use of slurs are not allowed Please respect and follow the rules, we want to keep the community nice!

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‘First Words‘ by alatus_corruptrix Any day now, she’ll say her first words. My wife and I have been playfully betting on what she’ll say first – ‘Mamá’ or ‘Daddy.’ I can hear my wife crooning over and over while she feeds her ‘Mama’s little girl! Mamá loves you so much!’ Sometimes, she’s not even subtle about it – ‘Say ‘Mamá!’ Come on! ‘Mamá!” I don’t mind it though. I still believe I’ll win. When we first brought her home, she would scream and cry and nothing my wife would say could calm her down. Ours must be a daddy’s girl. I sit her in her chair and my wife and I begin babbling like chickens – ‘Mamá!’ ‘Daddy!’ ‘Say Mamá!’ ‘Who’s daddy’s baby?’ I pull the gag from our little girl’s mouth. “P-please… what do you want from me? Please, let me go…” My wife’s smile falls from her face. With a heavy heart, I put the gag back in as the girl starts to scream. I take her back and dispose of her. When I return, I find my wife crying. “It’s ok, honey,” I tell her; “the next one will be better, I promise.”
r/shortscarystories 23 hr. ago captain-howdy2323 Unknown Stranger Oh my! I can hear him moving around down stairs. Can I remember if I heard him come inside? Idk. I must have because I've armed myself. I cower away in this closet. But I can't remember any of that. I must be in shock. Oh my heart is racing. I hear him coming up the stairs. It won't be long until he finds me. I can already see what everyone will be saying. "Man found in house", "The bloodbath". He's right outside the room. I'm breathing so heavily. I'm sure he can hear me. Please, stop shaking. Please, nerves calm down. He's opening the door. This is it. Finally. I've been waiting in his closet for hours.
“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer
https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

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🤎 🍂 🤎 🎸 🤎 🎸 🤎 🍂 🤎
r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago manen_lyset My sister ruined my sweet 16 My sister ruined my sweet 16 It was supposed to be my special day. Everything was going to be perfect. I'd even gotten a custom made dress for the occasion. Everything was going off without a hitch, but then, my sister ruined my life. It started during the father-daughter dance. There we were, gliding across the ballroom. All eyes on me, as my beautiful gown fluttered at my feet. Suddenly, my sister started convulsing in spasm’s. Whilst everybody tried to figure out what had made the noise, the attention hog tore a hole in the side of my dress with her bare teeth. My party guests were on-edge, all because of her! She couldn't even let me have ONE single birthday to myself. She then started foaming at the mouth mumbling incoherently. By then, my friends were running scared. They shrieked in horror, the party was officially ruined, her head dropped, she went quiet and turned blue. I'm going in for surgery tomorrow to have her remains removed from my side… I've been carrying around her useless conjoint self 16 years too long..
Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.
I destroy the monsters you don’t ever want to know about. by KMApok 'Why is there bad in the world?' It’s a common question, but it is misplaced. Light and dark. Without one, the other cannot exist. I roam the Earth, disposing of the bad wherever I find it. I destroy the ones you don’t even want to know about. I eliminate them completely so you can sleep at night. You people have no idea how many of you live because of the suffocating work I do. 'What about criminals, Mussolini, Adolph...' Well, those are the 'minor' ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I suffocatingly destroy are too horrible and vile to even speak of... You see, I would wager you never have heard of me, specifically in any religious texts. Still I bet you have known of me. Some, for example, have their own name for me: SID's short for what you might call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome..
‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage I'm a murder the one who killed my wife. He's just blubbering, perhaps a way of pleading, for his life... Perhaps if he spoke to me to reason, it might've ended differently. Perhaps I might've spared instead of murder if he only could talk out of it. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was only just born moments ago.
I NEED SOME BREAD AND CEREAL TOO June 7, 2017 @hellofinah You get a phone call from your Mum. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken... After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. Cashier makes an odd remark to you: “you know, we’re in no danger of a milk shortage...” Once arriving at mum's home, you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In some bags, the chicken and milk have gone stale. You call out for mum, but no reply. You make your way through the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her detached head neatly resting on her lap, is mum. Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. “It’s not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into series of repetitive behaviour” he says. You think to yourself, “They can’t be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?” Suddenly your cell phone goes off. “Hello?” “Hi hun, it’s me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too.” “No problem, mum; I’ll be right over…”
People may like horror for many different reasons. Personification of non-human's, perspective, etc. There's some considerate guidelines to take in-to account. Of course, horror's meant to be scary, but not to frightening as to cause panic attack. Trigger warnings may give away the ending or some plot twist. Here are some tips: ~Profanity. Can say like 'oh dear' or something. ~Gore, avoiding unnecessary graphic detail. ~Animals. Can be something like 'the dog growls at presence of ghost' ~Self harm, etc. You can, however, have a character sacrifice oneself. ~Abuse (like exploitation, arranged marriage) although you can imply abduct, poison, etc. ~Stereotyping groups (portraying certain authorities, religions, cultures, etc. as disrespectful) You can use (with discretion) controversial topics (execution, foeticide, the double effect, etc.) lightly. You can mention potential topics (cannibal, baby death, poisons, apocalypse, etc.) in story insofar as it partains to the plot, but no glorifying trauma. You can have the narrator be the villain, victim, or bystander. Have fun writing, and heed your emotions!

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I Want to Help It was a beautiful morning when I woke up, the sun shining through and the wildlife up and about. I went for my morning stroll, taking my usual route. I stopped by the surface of the water, when I saw the most peculiar thing: a little girl… In there. Couldn’t she breathe? Why didn’t she come out? Panicking, I reached out and grabbed her arms, yanking her out of it and holding her close to me. She started to scream, but then seemed to be choking. I tried to calm her down. “Shh… Everything is fine, little one, I saved you! Relax! Breathe in!” But she wouldn’t. And soon, despite all my efforts, she went limp. Not again! I couldn’t understand. I had taken her out of that horrible, disgusting air, and into the safety of the water. What had I done wrong this time? Maybe my tentacles frighten them. Maybe I wasn’t gentle enough. Human children are so unpredictable. I’ll save one for real next time, I swear.
My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.
Giggles Chuck climbed out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, refusing to turn on the bedside lamp in case he disturbed his wife whom was låyīng beside him. Finishing his busıness, he made his way to the sink, and just as he began to run the water, thought he heard a faint laughter coming from the bedroom. “Honey? Was that you?” He listened carefully, but there was no reply from that dark doorway. Chuck turned back to the sink and continued to wash his hands, certain that it was just his half-asleep brain playing tricks. However, moments later, he once again thought he could hear a faint laughter from the bedroom. He turned off the water, and began to make his way back into the bedroom. The light was off, and in the bed, he could make out the shape of his wife låyīng there. “Honey? Were you laughing?” Chuck flicked on the bedside lamp, and in an instant was looking into the unblinking đeađ eyes of his wife, her mouth sliced from ear-to-ear in a grotesque mockery of a smıle. Chuck felt his heart freeze, before relief washed over him. “Oh, it WAS you!” he exclaimed with a smıle as he peeled back the ̛ bed sheets, stıll stiff from the long dried błoođ, and climbed back into ̛ bed, kissing his wife’s cold cheek before turning out the light. “For a moment there, I thought I was going cRaZy.”
‘A Message From Your Personal Demons’ By MrGarm “I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend.” Hello, my dear. You do not know who I am, but I know you. I am one of the three demons that were assigned to you at birth. You see, some people in this world are destined for greatness, destined to live happy, fulfilling lives. You, I am afraid, are not one of those people, and it is our job to make sure of that. Who are we? Oh yes, of course, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce us: Shame is my younger brother, the demon on your left shoulder. Shame tells you that you’re a freak; that those thoughts you have are not normal; that you will never fit in. Shame whispered into your ear when your mother found you playing with yourself as a child. Shame is the one who makes you hate yourself. Fear sits on your right shoulder. He is my older brother, as old as life itself. Fear fills every dark corner with monsters, and turns every stranger on a dark street into a murderer. Fear stops you from telling your crush how you feel. He tells you it is better not to try than to let people see you fail. Fear makes you build your prison. Who am I, then? I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend. You turn to me when you have nothing else because I live in your heart. I am the one who forces you to endure. The one who prolongs your torment. Sincerely, Hope.
r/shortscarystories 5 days ago DottedWriter My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees "Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me. I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me. She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me. She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end. I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies. She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me. So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool . I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me. I had enough of it. I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart. It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out. I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .
The Lights When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions), I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep; I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory I came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howls. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one I had killed, had been my protection.
Mothers Illness My mother had fallen ill. She had what my dad did, at least thats what it looked like Everyone cried. I asked if we could take her to the doctor, but we cant afford it My older sister took time off college to take care of her, but we knew how it would end Mother would die like father did Two months later she did After the funeral the cops started to snooping around They questioned me first; they wanted to know what l knew: They threatened me, saying I could be charged as an adult because I was almost seventeen. I cried and said I loved my parents They took my finger prints and let me go. My sister was next They never let her go. They said she poisoned my parents for the life insurance policy she took out on them. My three younger siblings and i couldnt believe it My sister never admitted to the crime, but everyone said she was guilty. That is what it looked like. • The hardest part of it all was getting my sisters figure prints on the poison. Faking her identity to take out the insurance policies was easy Soon Id be going to a new home, with new parents. Its time to start planning my next game.
WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.
Horror Confessions @Horror_Fessions "When I was 8 I would hear what seemed like a younger girl calling for me in my back yard, my mom decided to ask around to see if any young boys had the same name as I did, turns out 8 years prior, a girl and her brother with the same name as I were murdered in a courtyard behind our house."
Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesmvc/deathcertificates 🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/birthdeath/#searchdb 🇺🇸
The Vanishing Hitch-Hiker Author: Jan Harold Brunvand This next eerie story is about a man driving home late in the night when he spots a girl asking for a hitchhike. The pretty girl is dressed in a beautiful white dress. The man offers her a ride and they strike up an interesting conversation. He drops the girl at her home. Next day, while driving for work he notices that the girl by accident has forgotten her sweater in his car. He drives towards her home to hand over the sweater. An old lady opens the door when he rings the bell. He narrates the incident which occurred last night and gives the sweater to the lady. The lady refuses to accept it, saying he is mistaken. The man is surprised and questions the lady again. He is dumbstruck and left in an unsettling situation when the lady says her daughter died in a car accident a couple of years ago.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 8 mo. ago homestarmy_recruiter "Turn back," I begged my friend as he drove, sirens wailing in the background. He seemed desperate not to, at first, but after I got one of his earplugs out, he agreed that their voices were too beautiful to ignore.
A White Lie I'm the last one here. Those things have killed everyone else. Those things with the huge wings, with the beady eyes, with the sharp claws....every time I close my eyes see my coworkers being ripped apart. A few of us made it to the building here, but even here we aren't safe. I watched them get picked off one by one, screaming as they fought against death. I tried to stop it I swear I did I tried... Now I'm running through the building to the main power center. With no one else to ask, I'm tasked with pressing one of these buttons. Either will press the red button, or the green button. Supposedly, one button will turn the power doors back on, protecting us from whatever that shrieking, hungry, and angry...thing is outside. That's the red button. The other button is green and opens the opposite side power door, and I can only imagine what might be out there. Why had I agreed to come and research in this lab? I think as I run, hearing the screeches behind me. Oh .... Why did I lie on my application? Why didn't I admit I was color blind?
I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.
Not only have we implanted a lifetime of human memories into this rat but we can now monitor what it's thinking. It appears to think it's reading the second line of a two sentence story on-line right now..
As I played in the basement, Mother called me upstairs. From behind me, She whispered, ‘Don’t go up there.’ — CheckeredBag
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
avoid writing about- ~animals ~unnecessary detail ~certain groups -in such stories

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.
დდ☆☆☆•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•☆ღღ☆•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•☆ღღ☆•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•☆ღღ☆•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•☆☆☆დდ ♪♫ ✫ ♥✫ ♥✫ ♫♪ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♪♫ ✫ ♥✫ ♥✫ ♫♪ ༺♥༻𝓜𝓪𝔂 𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 ღ ♥ ♥ ♥ღ ♥ ♥ ♥ ღ 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮ღ♥ ♥ ♥ ღ♥ ♥ ♥ ღ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 & 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ❤ ༺♥༻Lσvєd Bєчσnd Ɯσrds༺♥༻ '*.¸.*´•.¸¸.♥ 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ღღღ ❤•*❤❤*•❤ღ 𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ღ .:*・゚❤・*:.ღ .❤.ღ .:*・❤*:.ღ .❤.ღ .:*・゚❤・*:.ღ ☆♪♫•*¨*•☆♪♫•*¨*•☆♪♫•*¨*•☆♪♫•*¨*•♫♪☆ ♥ღೋღ♥ღೋ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღ༻ღೋღ♥ღೋღ♥ (¯'v´¯) '*.¸.*´ ¸.•´ ¸.•*¨)¸.•*¨) (¸.•´(¸.•(¸.•(¸¸.•¨¯'•.¸¸.♥ Blessingsღღ
。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚. (entry) will bring blessings.  ゚・。・゚
ᴳᴵᴿᴸ'ᔆ ᶠᴬᵀᴬᴸ ᶠᴬᴸᴸ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴾᴼᴼᴸ ᔆʸᴰᴺᴱʸ⸴ ‧ ᵀᵘᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ — ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⸴ ¹²⸴ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜ ᴴⁱᵍʰʷᵃʸ⸴ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ⸴ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡⁱᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒˢˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵂᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᶠᵒˡⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᵍʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵖⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ᴳᵒʳᵍᵉ — — — ^ — — — ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ²⁹‧— ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽¹²⁾ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁵ ᶠᵗ‧ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵒʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘˢⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ‧ ᴬ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵖᵉⁿᵉᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʲᵃʷ ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵇᵘˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ
( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝). ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
https://vault.georgiaarchives.org/digital/collection/gadeaths/search
http://www.kykinfolk.com/muhlenberg/death-certificates/dc-index.htm
Cachy the Poodle, Marta Espina, Edith Solá, Anonymous man 21 October 1988 A poodle named Cachy, in Caballito, Buenos Aires, fell 13 storeys and hit 75-year old Marta Espina, ending both lives instantly. In the course of events, 46-year old Edith Solá came to see the incident, and was fatally hit by a bus. An unidentified man who witnessed her death had a heart attack and also dies on his way to the hospital.
I̵̱̓͆͘'̷̞̰̜̭͚̉͂̈́̌͗m̴͓̼̲͖̮̣̣͒͛̈́̑̿͘ ̷̛͓̖̯͎̱͇̓̉̔̿͝T̵̰̓͊̈́͛͆̀̈́̎̆͝e̶̞͔̤̟̒̋̽̍r̸̨̻̬̲̰̂͑̍̂̋͜r̵̨̫̓̄̀̀͊̔̽͝i̷̢̺͇̒͗́̈́̚͜͝f̸̛̦̱̱͋̾͊̔ị̵͇͙̥̭̜̒͒̆̃́e̸̬̺͉̩̘̬̟̥̊̾ḑ̵͇̪͚̻̾̉̈́̅͗̀̉̀͐͘ͅ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅM̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎ȩ̸̛̛̹͉͓̿̈̽̈́͊ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅM̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎ȩ̸̛̛̹͉͓̿̈̽̈́͊ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅ M̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅ e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚ Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎
Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Sunday 31 May 2015 Goth Is Not Inherently Satanic I got harrassed for being a Goth by a stranger professing the grounds of Christianity, and attempting to convert me away as reason to berate me. Yesterday, I was out busking in town, in relatively Gothic clothes, wearing my red wig, and playing my usual fare of traditional Scottish, Irish and other European folk tunes, and this middle-aged man who was clearly drunk came up to me, and started going about how I play "mystical stuff that goes back to the 12th century" (a reference to an incoherent comment he'd made about Greensleeves at me months ago; I'm surprised he'd remembered it, because I had forgotten about it) and then started going on about how I "don't have to wear black, and dye your [my] hair red" (I pointed out that I was wearing a wig, but he didn't seem to be listening) and then went on to get into my personal space and loudly and aggressively deride being a Goth as Satanic, and tell me that he's a Christian and that I should, to paraphrase him 'find my Saviour'. I tried my best to explain that Goths no religious affiliation and simply an aesthetic preference, but he kept insisting. As he later went on to inform that he'd been an alcoholic, and then "clean for 2 years" but had "done a runner three days ago", I decided that his words and actions were the product and not to take them to heart. He said he would pray for me, and I thanked him. I decided silently I would pray for him too, for that after 2 years clean and then relapsing, he finds his way back to sobriety, and get the help and support to do so, and find the inner strength too, because I know addiction is hard battle. Just as he left my Goth friends came up to me, saying they weren't sure whether to intervene, as he had harassed them too, condemning them. It was a complex situation, and even though he railed at us and condemned us, his actions were clearly a sign of his own struggles and I could not bring myself to be harsh with him, and he did give me a £5 note, so at least he was generous as well as religiously harrassing (not that giving me money ameliorates bad behaviour, and I do wonder if he thought giving me money was simply a way to get my time). I didn't know what to do about the situation; I felt cornered because busking generally means I have to stand with my back to a wall to avoid being in the way of pedestrians, and although people were walking by, nobody helped me and I could not see any security guards or police, although I did feel that they might just treat him as another obnoxious drunk, when he probably needed more nuanced help than that. This got me thinking that it is a common misconception that Goth is synonymous with Satanic, or at least that it is inherently Satanic, and I feel like it would be productive to break down that misconception. Goth is simply a subculture that is focused on having an appreciation for the morbid, dark and spooky in music, fashion, art and literature; it has no religious affiliation at all, and Goths come from all religions as well as agnostic and atheists. That is the short response, but does not really contain any nuance, not does it explain why Goths sometimes use Satanic imagery, or gives any differentiated understanding of how occult themes tie into the Gothic, and as such does little to shed light on how Goth is not Satanic even though it looks like it could be. Satanic imagery is used within the Gothic subculture for several reasons. Sometimes Satanic imagery is used for shock value, especially by those who feel constrained by a conservative cultural backdrop and wish to differentiate themselves as other, as part of something taboo, dark and frightening. Often it is teens who do this, and it is not representative of the wearer's/displayer's true religious or spiritual beliefs, but part of a more complex process of wishing to separate themselves and create their own identity. Often a passing phase - either because all interest in dark and spooky things is a passing phase, or because they mature into somebody more in the identity, rather than identifying themselves oppositionally to others. Some people carry this behaviour on adulthood, but usually a behaviour that people mature. Often, Satanic imagery used for is not used in a way that is coherent with the actual uses of those symbols within Satan or the occult, and is often mixed up with symbols from other religious and spiritual groups (I have seen symbols appropriated into this sort of shock-value pseudo-Satanism, but that is another matter.) Some Goths actually are Satanist, but they are a minority even within the Goth scene - these people will use Satanic symbols correctly, and tend not to advertise their Satanic affiliations. Most of the actual Satanists I know personally are not Goths; they tend to be more "nerdy" and less into the theatric and ostentatious aesthetics of Goth. Most of the I have met subscribe to a version of Satanist where Satan is an archetype of independence, hedonism and suchlike, rather than a deliberately Anti-Christ worship of the Devil. I have never met an actual Devil-worshipper, someone who subscribes to a Christian theology and cosmology, but looks to Heck and the Devil rather than to Heaven and Jesus - I am not saying they do not exist, just that such people must be quite rare, even amongst Gothic and Occult circles. Sometimes people mistake Neo-Pagan iconography and symbolism for Satanic imagery, for example confusion can arise over the use of pentacles and pentagrams (and their inverted variations), and this is exacerbated by the misuse of these. Neo-Paganism is a religion that has no concept of an adversarial dichotomy, with no Heck or Satan. Some people hold the belief that all things other than their specific religious path are Satanic or at least a distraction or deception from what they see as the truth, but outside of that belief structure, there is little in Neo-Paganism that could mark it as anything Satanist, any more than say, Buddhism or Hindoo; it is a completely different belief system to any of the monotheistic faiths. As Goths often have an interest in the spiritual, and are apt to look outside conventional spirituality for answers, there are quite a few Neo-Pagans within Goth, but again, not all Goths are Neo-Pagans, and not all Neo-Pagans are Goths (quite a few dress very 'mainstream' and others -a significant proportion- are more inclined towards Hippy and 'Bohemian' aesthetics.). There are some who feel badly hurt by Christianity, or who see it as a destructive force, and who use Christian symbols and anti-Christian symbols as a critique of Christianity and the power of organised religion; sometimes this falls into the territory of shock-value, and sometimes it is done with more refinement and nuance, but this is not unique to Goth, even though it does exist within the Gothic subculture, nor is it something you have to engage in as a Goth. Goths tend to be people who have been outcast by traditional community structures, and that can include the Church, and/or people who use Christianity as an excuse to harass (a bit like the man in my opening paragraphs) - as such, there are probably a greater percentage of Goths who do this than non-Goths. Personally, even as an apostate, I find this sort of thing can often be more harmful and rectionary than productive. I don't think religions should be beyond criticism or critique, but I do think that there ways to go about doing this, and there are ways that are just rude and mean, where the message is lost. There are, of course, more than these four contexts, but these are the four most common contexts and reasons for the use of Satanic imagery within the Gothic subculture. Sometimes it is used in the traditional way it was used within Gothic horror; as a symbol for various evils or villainry that a good person can come across, for example. The use of Satanic imagery is not inherent to Goth - the use of dark imagery is, but not all dark imagery has to come from the cultural/religious context of Heaven and Heck, God and the Devil - there are plenty more traditions to draw from, and a lot of Gothic imagery comes from European folk-tales, sometimes more entwined with Christianity. The imagery of death, decay, transience and similar are part of the human experience, and appear in different ways across all cultures. There is plenty of positive Christian iconography used in Goth as well - but that is a topic for different blog entry entirely (and something I would quite like to write about, and get some of my Christian Goth friends to write guest posts for, but that is for a different time). Not everything dark is Satanic even in a Christian context; the Bible is full of stories about people who had to overcome pain, suffering and violence, and the very concepts of martyrdom and Christ as crucified saviour involve death and sacrifice; not everything that is dark is inherently negative. Goths are not synonymous with Satanist, we are not a group who worship the Devil or are anti-Christian; we are diverse with diverse perspectives outside of things that are actually Goth (of which specific religious affiliation is not). There are quite a few Goths who are Christians, and there are Goths who are Jewish, Muslim, and members of other monotheistic faiths. There are even Goth priests - check out the ::Priestly Goth Blog:: for example. You cannot tell someone's religion by subcultural affiliation. Side note: if you wish to convert someone to your faith, condemning them and berating them will have the exact opposite effect; you are more likely to drive that person away from the religion you profess than convert them. The HouseCat at 07:00
http://www.henrycomo.us/Death%20Records/hdeath.html HAKE, Leonard S. - 38Y married white male farmer - b: Jul 12 1912 Montrose, Henry Co, MO - d: Apr 14 1951 Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, MO - fth: Anthony J. Hake - mth: Mary Calwei - spouse: Angeline E. Hake - usual res: Rt 2, Fair Grove, Greene Co, MO - informant: VA Hospital Records, Jefferson Barracks, MO - cause: cancer of pharynx - bur: St. Ludger Cemetery, Deepwater Twp, Henry Co, MO - filed as: Leonard S. Hake, file no: 15136 http://www.sos.mo.gov/images/archives/deathcerts/1951/1951_00015132.PDF
The End “The End is nigh” “Agency Officials: Spend this time with your loved ones” “Citizens prepare for the Inevitable” The newspapers were all the same. His mother whisked him away from the news stand and into her arms, but not before he read the last headline. “The Invasion: What could We have done?” “Mommy, what’s happening?” he whispered. She pressed his warm, chubby hand to her wet cheek and let out a quiet sob. “The humans. They found us.”
https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/remembering-those-we-have-lost-to-food-allergies
1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago villianrules After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer. It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.
Which season are you✨ Fall 🍂☕️ Winter ❄️ 🧤 Spring💐☀️ Summer 🌻🌞
i turned to the guy who k1lled my wife ✨ He cried so desperately, scared for what was to come. If only he had talked to me and tried to reason, maybe I could have spared him. But that was impossible. After all, he was born just a few moments ago...
America’s Top 5 Spooky Spots for Horror Enthusiasts February 17, 2024 / Strange and Unexplained / 4 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — 3 minutes How many times have you tried to find a place in the US that will raise your hair up and fill you with adrenaline? If you’re the kind of person who loves to take part in horror adventures, then you should know that America is full of spooky places, like dark cemeteries, abandoned mansions, and dark towns. The only thing you’ve left to do to satisfy your horror cravings is to choose the most suitable one for your needs and plan your next trip. The 5 spooky places in America that we’re about to list and discuss will indeed fascinate every horror enthusiast. Table of Contents 1. Bonaventure Cemetery 2. Lemp Mansion 3. Bally’s Resort and Casino 4. Gettysburg National Military Park 5. Clinton Road Final Thoughts 1. Bonaventure Cemetery At first glance, you might think that Bonaventure is just another cemetery that might attract horror lovers at times. But trust us, you actually need to prepare yourself before you see the centuries-old tombstones that surround this historic site in Savannah, Georgia. Bonaventure Cemetery is an ancient, historic district that was once a privately owned cemetery. Even though this site attracts tourists with its beautiful nature and architecture, to this day, multiple people have reported unusual occurrences, such as the sounds of children and barking dogs, even when no one is around. As visitors claim, you should definitely consider going around the graves of Gracie Watson or Kehoe House – children who died in the 19th century but whose ghosts never left the Bonaventure Cemetery. 2. Lemp Mansion Besides cemeteries and battlefields, you can find numerous mansions and old houses in America that are considered haunted. Lemp Mansion in St. Louis, MO, is one of those mansions that still fascinates visitors with its eerie atmosphere. The main reason why this house is considered haunted is the history behind it – the tragic death of the Lemp family over 60 years ago. Almost a century ago, Lemps were important figures in the brewing industry. In the 1920s, the business began to decline. Not surprisingly for that period, this downturn made a few family members commit suicide. The first one among them was William Lemp who was followed by his son Billy. His brother, Charles, did the same later, along with a 13-year-old physically and mentally disabled brother. Today, Lemp Mansion is an inn and a restaurant and its visitors sometimes encounter the spirits of these 4 dead members of the Lemp family. 3. Bally’s Resort and Casino If someone asks you to name some of the most popular attractions in Las Vegas, chances are that you’ll name Bally’s Resort and Casino if you’ve ever gambled in this building. Everyone knows that Las Vegas is full of casinos and entertainment venues. But it turns out that horror enthusiasts either take pleasure in playing thrilling real casino games online or gamble at physical casinos that have a reputation for being haunted. Bally’s Resort and Casino is one of those haunted places in America. This casino was initially known as MGM Grand in the 1970s and attracted wealthy people from all over the US. But this was before a terrible incident happened – in 1980, faulty wiring started a fire in the building, which resulted in the deaths of 80 individuals. Today, visitors to this casino claim that from time to time they hear spooky noises and notice the spirits of the people who died on that day. That’s why Bally’s Resort and Casino is considered haunted. 4. Gettysburg National Military Park Considering the number of people who died at the Battle of Gettysburg during the American Civil War, it’s not really surprising that the National Military Park of Gettysburg is said to be haunted by the ghosts of soldiers. As a matter of fact, the Gettysburg National Military Park consists of numerous spots where paranormal activities occasionally take place. For example, there, you might encounter three disembodied heads. These hands belong to Confederate soldiers who died tragically on the battlefield. But other than these figures, sometimes you can even hear gunfire, shouts, and even the cries of wounded men. 5. Clinton Road One more scary place in America that usually fascinates horror lovers of various preferences is Clinton Road in West Milford, New Jersey. It’s a 10-mile-long road that isn’t anything special at first glance. However, the legend says that if you decide to race on this road, chances are that you won’t escape evil spirits and phantom headlights. Even more exciting about this haunted place is the rumor that after throwing a coin into the bridge at midnight, someone will throw this coin back at you. It’s hard to decide whether it’s true or not, but if you dare to explore this place, throwing a coin is worth it. Just remember to do it exactly at midnight. Final Thoughts It wasn’t easy for us to choose only 5 haunted spots for horror enthusiasts who plan their ghost-haunting trip in America. But at least, now you have a starting point for your adventure. Just keep in mind that although you might consider yourself brave enough to explore these eerie locations, we don’t recommend going to those spooky places alone. Who knows, maybe those ghosts are actually waiting for a brave person who can become a part of their company.

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

ᵀʰᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᵀʳᵘᵗʰ ᵒʳ ᵈᵃʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ "ᴰᵃʳᵉ!" "ᴵ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴺⁱᶜᵉ ᵗʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵐʸ ʲᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧" ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵏ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁱⁿˢᵗᵒʳᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉˢ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ!" ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵒᵘˢ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵉˢ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˡˡ ᵖᵃˢˢ⸴ ⁿᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ; ᵐᵃʸ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵘⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃⁱⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴮᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃⁱⁿᶠᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵘᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵈᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᵈᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵐⁱᵐᵉ?" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵘʳⁿ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵃⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈⁱˡʸ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡ‧ ᴮᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ/ᵃˡᵉʳᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ ᴱʸᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵃⁱⁿᶠᵃˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿᵃᵖ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃⁱⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ?" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧"
r/TwoSentenceHorror 26 days ago Prestigious_Salad_85 I screamed in excitement as I received an email stating that my application was accepted. The rest of my family cried out in despair knowing they weren’t selected to board the last ship leaving our dying planet behind.
Mother Warned Me Mother always warned me not to cross the street. Mother warned me about those types of things. She said bad men would kidnap me, take me away. I guess she was right, in a way. I crossed one day, because I was never a good child, and several men came out and picked me up and asked me many questions. I don’t know why she never wanted me to cross the street. All the men wore blue and had badges. I don’t know why they put silver bracelets on Mother. I don’t know why Mother attempted to bite one of them. I don’t know a lot of things, I suppose. And years later, I’ll never know why she made me call her Mother.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago netflixandskill my son was reported missing last week they found him but it's not my son
I thought telling the genie “I want to live forever” But the universe went dark 3 billion years ago by douggold11
‘Ylim3’ By IPostAtMidnight I've found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. Little Emily vanished last year. Now they’re pouring new sidewalks in my neighbourhood, and I’ve found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. But it was written in reverse. And from below.
The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago CalebVanPoneisen While tidying up my girlfriend’s apartment I found a purple diary labelled “Boyfriends Whom Dare to Look”. Unable to resist the temptation my heart raced, at the sight of names and dates marked with red but before I could fully process it's meaning, a voice be- hind me chuckled “It’s time to break up,” as a sharp object pierced my back.
“I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I stood in- front of the mirror, there was no one staring back at me.” -Lucas Smelser
“I woke up in a joyful mood and went to my mirror with a smile on my face; only, my reflection wasn’t smiling back at me.” -Aubrey Lichtfield
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago mydadsnameisharold "Yes, the blood means you're a woman now." Too groggy to make sense of the pain between his legs, he managed to ask, "... what did you just do to me?"

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Practice Makes Perfect by reddit user whiteddit "You're not even trying. Again!" My calloused hands dance across the music. A finger slips and the tune groans. "Your father would be ashamed. Again!" My blurred vision falls from the yellowed sheet music to the keys. I miss another note. "Faster. Again!" I stumble once more as the tempo increases. She rises from the bench. "Absolutely worthless. You're done for today." I hang my head in shame. I know what's coming. The floorboards creak as Mother returns from the kitchen. I wince. It's hard enough to play with three fingers. It'll be even harder with two.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago MintClicker Moments before the tragedy At 3, she jumped off the bed. At 7, she unbuckled her seat belt. At 12, she went to a sleepover at a friend's house. At 17, she finally received her driver's license. At 26, she said yes. At 30, she went into labor. At 39, she had one last hurrah. At 46, she signed the papers to make it final. At 55, he was diagnosed and had no one to share the news with. At 61, she celebrated her remission with a night out. At 22, she looked at herself in the mirror. At 87, surrounded by her family and friends, she smiled. There are moments before every tragedy, quick flashes of boredom or happiness, of the expected and unexpected. These moments I see. The little girl jumping off her parents bed and into an unresponsive final state. Another girl attending her first sleepover, excited and giddy, only to succumb to an unknowing fatal nut allergy. The young woman whose proposal near the shoreline was poorly thought-out, never allowing her to live to see her marriage. The older woman who finally divorced the man she came to loathe, and for that man to not take the finality of it all with dignity or peace. The man whose diagnosis was terminal. The woman whose 40th birthday ended in heartache and disaster. The girl whose last glimpse in the mirror was of herself, relieved, then raising the pistol to her temple. These moments, as innocuous as they seem, are the final looks to life before tragedy ultimately hits. And I watch them. I have to. It's my responsibility to take you all from this realm to the next. It's my duty. And I am sorry; I truly am. Because now? At this moment, they read the final sentences of a story. Some bored. Some happy. Some expecting this ending; some not. And I watch as they read these last words, fully oblivious as they are, that this, this is their moment.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago kaoru-aeli They pointed at me, laughing and calling me "four-eyes". They weren't laughing after I decided to revealed 82 more.
Mary had a little lamb It's fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went That lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day That was against the rules, It made the children laugh and play But soon they felt like fools. Mary’s corpse was in a room And oh, what a scene! The kids saw her coated in blood And regretted being mean. Soon the police arrived Stepped over Mary’s heart, And tried to ask everyone How she was ripped apart. But when nobody knew The origins of all the gore, The police decided That it was time to go hardcore. And so everyone was dragged To detectors so they can’t tell a lie But everybody refused to tell Why Mary had to die. Suspects were jailed everywhere Tom, Barb, and Sam Because not a single person knew The murderer was the lamb. June 21, 2017 hellofinah
The Cork Examiner, 1 May 1846 CORONER'S INQUEST—INHUMAN CONDUCT A SWEEP ROASTED ALIVE An inquest was held on Sunday, at Barrington's Hospital, on the body of Michael O'Brien, a chimney sweep aged eight years, who was burned to death in the flue of a chimney in Patrick-street, on Saturday evening, which he was forced to descend by his master, Michael Sullivan, although the chimney had been on fire since early in the afternoon. The body of the unfortunate creature presented an awful appearance, being literally roasted and mangled. We subjoin the evidence of the witnesses which will speak for itself— Thomas Costelloe, of Garryowen, labourer, deposed that he was in Mr. Mathew Ryan's house, in Patrick-street, on Saturday evening, where he saw two sweeps, Michael Sullivan (master) and Michael O'Brien (apprentice) aged eight years ; was present when Sullivan compelled the climbing boy to ascend the chimney ; shortly after being sent up, the boy cried out, he was burning, and Sullivan called him down ; Sullivan then brought the boy up to the top of the house, and directed him to go down through the chimney, which he did ; in about two hours after, witness saw Michael O'Brien taken out of the chimney dead ; deceased had objected to go down the chimney, upon which Sullivan seized him by the arms and forced him up stairs ; heard Mr. Ryan desire Sullivan not to send the boy up the chimney if there was any danger. Catherine Ryan, servant in the house, sworn—I heard Sullivan desire the little boy go up Mr. Ryan's chimney for the purpose of cleaning it ; in about 15 minutes after I heard the boy cry in the flue, and say he was burning ; he then came down the chimney, and Sullivan caught hold of him by the leg, and pulled him into the grate of the fire-place ; he beat the boy with a leather belt so severely, that the little fellow threw himself on his knees, and said I will go to the top of the house, and come down through the chimney ; I saw Sullivan seize him by the arm, and carry him up stairs to the top of the house ; the boy was subsequently taken out of the chimney dead. The jury returned the following verdict—“Michael O'Brien came to his death from the effects of heat and suffocation, in consequence of having been forced to descend a chimney in Mr. Ryan's house, Patrick-street by Michael Sullivan.” The monster who was the cause of the boy's death has absconded. —Limerick Chronicle. Submitted by dja
🇮🇪 MAN CUT IN TWO ON RAILWAY Stephen Folan, who belonged to the Naval Reserve, was found terribly mangled on Sunday morning on the railway line between Craughwell and Athenry. He was returning from a course of naval training at Kinsale, and had £20 in his possession. It is surmised that he left the train at Craughwell, the next station to Athenry, and finding that it had departed on his return, he proceeded to walk along the permanent way to Athenry with a view to catching the Galway train. Apparently he was overtaken by a subsequent train and killed. The Tuam Herald, Saturday, April 3, 1909 Tuam, Co Galway 🇮🇪

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Avoid~ -profanity -animal loss -stereotyping -ignorance

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

--On Saturday last, Francis, the only son of Mr. MALLON, of Mullyards, came by his death under the following circumstances: Fastened to a beam in his father's house, the boy, who was just ten years old, had a swing, in which he used to seat himself by standing on a form. It appears that on this occasion there happened to be a halter thrown over the same beam. When the boy was about to adjust himself in the swing, the form on which he was standing upset, and in falling to the ground the headstall of the halter became entangled round his neck. There was no person in the house at the time; and the poor boy, unable to extricate himself, was almost immediately strangled. An inquest was held on the following day by Arthur R. KAY, Esq., coroner, and the jury returned a verdict in accordance with the facts.--"Armagh Guardian." http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Cavan/1858/SEP.html
‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage She's gone, all because of him. Dead. He killed my wife. She'd still be here, if it's not for him. If only he could speak with reason; I could’ve let him live long enough to explain. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was born just a few minutes ago...
UNINSTALLING STEAM ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▢   ╭━╮╭━╮╭╮ ╱      ╰━┫╰━┫╰╯╱╭╮      ╰━╯╰━╯╱ ╰╯   ERROR ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌█████ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌▀████ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
https://www.sec.state.ma.us/VitalRecordsSearch/VitalRecordsSearch.aspx
Over a century ago, the woman was encouraged to keep her child after she's considering pregnancy termination. "your baby could be an artist or grow up to be a world leader" they had said, so she kept it and went to give birth to a baby boy c. 1888 He's named Adolf

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago HoardofAngryQuokkas It's happening again - I must wash away all this blood; silently, I creep out to the kitchen like I've been doing for the past three years, spending hours in the moonlight scrubbing out every speck of evidence. I know my dad and brothers think I'm some late bloomer, but I just don't want to freeze to death out in the menstrual hut like mum did.
(⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago EvantheNerd83 A Perfect Baby 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 A Perfect Baby When she was born, Little Jamie got all the attention. Her mother cradled her in her arms and the doctors and nurses who were present crowded around them. They peered over the shoulders of their coworkers. They wanted to see the most perfect baby in the world. And Little Jamie was perfect. She had bright blue eyes that shone like sapphires, such a deep shade that it reflected the sky. A pink and soft body. She glowed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room, an angel delivered in mortal form. Everyone stared and cooed and stroked her puffy cheeks, took out their cameras and took pictures when they could, complimented her mother for conceiving such a lovely child. Her mother blushed in embarrassment and scratched her black hair. It was a joyful reception until the armed men in the uniforms stepped in to the room. Laughter died. Awkward coughing ensued. It was time to follow the rules. The symbol pinned to their chests declared as much. Little Jamie was handed over to them, their stoic expressions remaining untainted as they walked out. Her mother watched and begged and screamed. But, the nurses held her back. Urged her to be quiet. For her own sake. Little Jamie's newborn wailing cut-off down the hallway. The elevator door had closed. Now, she was downstairs with the others. Little Jamie was perfect, but mortal perfection wasn't acceptable. She had to be Aryan.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 14 hr. ago Art_Detective A blood-covered kıller was staring into my soul as he stood over the bødy of his victim... Until I notıced the crack in the mirror.
https://gpgstx.org/areaDeaths.php
𝒜𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓂𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒! ☺️🍂🎀🧡
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