Chine Emojis & Text

支離破碎的意外 當晚的事故在他的腦海反覆播放： 紅燈亮了，但他的著急使車子加快了速度。一個橙色的模糊物體從他的右邊飛 來，在一瞬間，劇烈的顛簸襲來，那個騎自行車的人從他的引擎蓋上滾過，掉 在人行道上，消失在黑暗中。 喇叭聲激烈地響起，他驚慌失措，踩下油門，從混亂中尖叫著沖向黑暗，顫抖 地盯著後視鏡，直至返家。 「你為什麽要跑，你這個白癡？」 他從未犯過罪，但現在他正通過想象牢獄之災，以及失去事業、家庭、未來的 可怕以懲罰自己。 「為什麽不現在就去找警察？你請得起律師。」 某人敲打蓋伊-哈爾弗森的前門，他腳下的世界崩塌了。 警察找到了他。他除了應門外，什麽也做不了，逃跑只會讓事情變得更糟。他 的身體在顫抖，他起身走到門前，打開門。一位警察站在門廊的燈光下。 「哈爾弗森先生？」這位面無表情的警官問道。他發出了一聲失敗的嘆息。 「是的，讓我 — 」 「非常抱歉，但我恐怕有一些壞消息。 你兒子的自行車今天晚上被一個肇事逃逸的司機撞了……他當場死亡，我為你 感到遺憾。」 原文作者：minnboy

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https://creepyspooketty.fandom.com/wiki/Rules

~ -creepypastastories- Monsters and Ghosts Monsters are real, also ghosts They live inside us And sometimes they win

AGES 2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Under <25 No screening asymptomatic virgins can request Pap test at age 21 Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Over 65 + No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer *detects even the slightest change in the, even if not potentially problematic *said cancer usually aggravated by hpv viruses; the hpv vaccine for it currently only protects against a certain amount of hpv virus; therefore can still get tested if vaccinated. *hpv is a type of virus which can be dormant if you've ever been ‘active’

https://www.creepypasta.com/submit-your-pasta/guidelines/

https://aminoapps.com/c/creepypasta-tm/page/item/community- rules/X4gV_3jiXIRG72JmMgjN73k8BxdD5RGLop

RULES ! posted 9 months ago ⚰︎ we will not write anything related to self harm, eating disorders, abuse as this can be triggering not only to us, but to our other followers as well ⚰︎ minors, beware on how you interact with such content. Any Triggering Topics mentioned in the post should be warned at the beginning of the post! (Putting it in the title is okay too)

The Wrong Room April 1, 2014 You get back to your apartment after a long day's work and you want to get inside and rest. You were about to pull out your keys and unlock the door, but you notice it's open ... The Wrong Room April 1, 2014 / Dark Comedy, Humor, and Parodies, Deaths, Murders, and Disappearances / parodies / 2 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute You get back to your apartment after a long day’s work and you want to get inside and rest. You were about to pull out your keys and unlock the door, but you notice it’s open. Turning the doorknob and stepping inside, You notice something different. You stand in the doorway trying to figure it out. then it hits you. this isn’t your room. As you turn and leave, something catches your eye. There is a man hunched over a dish of flesh, eating it with his bare hands, tearing into it as a wild animal would with prey. Red dripped down the side of his mouth, and the smell that emanated from it was sickening. You were paralysed by the sight. Unconsciously, you start cover your nose and mouth. This accidentally bumps your elbow against the doorway. You freeze. He stopped eating there was something wrong. Then he looked up and started searching for the source of the noise. His eyes scanned the room till they found you. Your legs start moving on their own, and you find yourself running, running away from that room, and the horrors within it. ~~~ The man silently stands up, locks the door, sits back down, grabs another slice of pizza, and mutters quietly to himself: “Crazy vegans”. Credit To – Walrus King

An Egg September 1, 2012 It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a quick passing. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail ... An Egg Strange and Unexplained / 5 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — 4 minutes It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. You’re so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me. And that’s when you met me. “What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?” “You passed,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words. “There was a…a truck and it was skidding…” “Yup.” I said “I… I’m gone?” “Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone passes.” I said. You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?” “More or less,” I said. “Are you god?” You asked. “Yup.” I replied. “I’m God.” “My kids… my wife,” you said. “What about them?” “Will they be alright?” “That what I like to see,” I said. “You just passed and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.” You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like a God. Some vague authority figure. “Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.” “Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to the afterlife or something?” “Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.” You followed along as we strolled in the void. “Where are we going?” “Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.” “So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.” “Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.” I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part or yourself into the vessel and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.” “You’ve been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we stay out here for longer, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point doing that between each life.” “How many times have I been reincarnated, then?” “Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D.” “Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?” “Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.” You pondered. “But wait. If i get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?” “Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan you don’t even know it’s happening.” I looked in your eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.” “You mean mankind? You want us to mature?” “No. just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect” “Just me? What about everyone else?” “There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you, and me.” You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…” “All you. Different incarnations of you.” “Wait. I’m everyone!?” “Now you’re getting it.” “I’m every human who ever lived?” “Or whom will ever live, yes.” “I’m Abraham Lincoln?” “And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too.” I added. “I’m a criminal?” you said, appalled. “And you’re the victims, too.” “I’m a leader?” “And you’re everyone who followed you.” You fell silent. “Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.” “Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?” “Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.” “Whoa.” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?” “No. Not yet. You’re as a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.” “So the whole universe,” you said. “It’s just…” “An egg of sorts.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.” And with that, I sent you on your way. Credit: Andy Weir

SEP 27 A 15-year old boy in a small town sat down at his computer after getting home from school one day. He turned it on and logged into an instant messaging program, and was then surprised to receive a message from a classmate of his, who had been absent that day. It consisted of two words; “please come”. Confused, the boy sent a reply, asking why he’d been absent that day. After two more messages and fifteen minutes with no response, he decided to get on his bike and head over to his classmate’s house. It was a short ride, only about five minutes away. When he got to the house, he found the door was unlocked. The boy slammed the door closed, and immediately called 911 on his cell phone. When the police arrived, they found three corpses, as well as tracks leading away from the house from the back door. The forensics report concluded that the entire family, the boy’s classmate and his parents, had been killed sometime the previous night.

The Bank Robber The bank I work at was robbed again last night. It’s been hit three times this month and we’re sure it’s the same person. Every single time, the guy has vanished without a trace. It’s almost as if he completely disappears. There’s no way he should be able to get away so quickly and without leaving any evidence. Last night when the robbery happened, I looked him in the eye for the first time. “Why do you keep doing this?” I asked him, searching his dark eyes for an answer. He stared at me coldly from behind his ski mask and replied “A man’s got to eat.” I’ve thought about it long and hard but I’ve made up my mind: I’m never going back to work at that blood bank again. 8 YEARS AGO

Pierwszy dzień szkoły Każdy kocha pierwszy dzień w szkole, prawda? Nowy rok, nowa klasa, nowi przyjaciele. Ekscytujący dzień, wyposażony w funkcję i dreszczyk nieznanego, zanim wszystko zostanie pogrzebane przez szarą rzeczywistość i zabezpieczenie z niej smutki. Jednak ja lubię pierwszy dzień w szkole z innej przyczyny. Trzeba coś wyznać - posiadam posiadanie moc. Kiedy zobaczę na innych ludzi, zobaczę... aure. Kolorowa otoczka wokół każdego człowieka, której barwa jest wskazana, jak długo dana osoba będzie żyć. Wyniki moich rówieśników ma, szkodliwe poświatę - oznacza to, że są jeszcze straty czasu. Niestety, duża duża grupa z nich posiada żółto - odmiana aury. To oznaka, że ​​umrą w wypadku samochodowym, albo za wystąpienie awarii. powiedzą ludzie, że odeszli przed wystąpieniem. Prawdziwa zabawa zaczyna się, kiedy aura jest czerwona. zagrożenie każdego dnia, gdy widzę kogoś z taką otoczką, to ludzie, którzy stąpają po linii. Zostają zamordowani, albo zabiją siebie. To takie ekscytujące widzenie ich i wiedzą, że ich czas jest policzony. Zawsze przed następną nową szkołą, która pojawi się na miejscu bardzo wcześnie, będzie możliwa do poznania losów moich koleżanek i wyposażenia z klasy. Pierwszy chłopak, który wyszedł do klasy po mnie, emanował pulsującą czerwienią. Stłumiłem uśmieszek. Szkoda stary, szkoda! Ale następna osoba wchodząca do klasy posiada ten sam, bijący po wejściu, krwisty kolor. Po chwili wyszedł nasz nauczyciel. Zamknął drzwi na klucz, od środka. Jego aura była intensywnie zielona...

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.

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MAR 01 In Berlin, after World War II, money was short, supplies were tight, and it seemed like everyone was hungry. At that time, people were telling the tale of a young woman who saw a blind man picking his way through a crowd. The two started to talk. The man asked her for a favor: could she deliver the letter to the address on the envelope? Well, it was on her way home, so she agreed. She started out to deliver the message, when she turned around to see if there was anything else the blind man needed. But she spotted him hurrying through the crowd without his smoked glasses or white cane. She was, naturally, suspicious, so she went to the police. When the police paid a visit to the address on the envelope, they made a gruesome discovery, three butchers had been where the envelope was addressed to. And what was in the envelope the man gave to the woman? A note, saying simply “This is the last one I am sending you today.”.

A soldier called his parents from San Francisco. "Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home." "Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him." "There's something you should know" the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us." "I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live." "No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us." "Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own." At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identily the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.

March 24, 2008 / Artifacts and Objects / anonymously authored / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute The assassin of William McKinley, 25th President of the United States, was electrocuted for his crime on October 29, 1901, at Auburn Prison in Auburn, New York. Among the personal effects found in his cell was a U.S. quarter stamped with the date 2218. The face in profile on said quarter was not George Washington, but rather a face which has yet to be identified.

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.

Leon Czolgosz March 24, 2008 / Artifacts and Objects / anonymously authored / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute Leon Czolgosz, the assassin of William McKinley (the 25th President of the United States) was electrocuted for his crime on October 29, 1901, at Auburn Prison in Auburn, New York. Among the personal effects found in his cell was a U.S. quarter stamped with the date 2218. The face in profile on said quarter was not George Washington, but rather a face which has yet to be identified.

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下次，你會記得我的 你是否曾走進房間，發現一個吸血鬼？ 你的心臟是否加速跳動，盡管你的腿拒絕跳動？ 轉眼間，當這個怪物在黑暗中穿過房間時，你是否感到時間變慢？ 當它把一只爪子放在你的頭上，另一只放在你的下巴，使你傾斜，露出你的脖 子時，你是否害怕得發抖？ 當它粗糙、幹燥的舌頭順著你的臉頰，滑過你的下巴，到達你的喉嚨，尋找你 的動脈時，你是否掙扎著扭動？ 當它探測你的脈搏時，你是否感覺到它的熱氣在你的皮膚上發出嘶嘶聲 — 那 是通向你大腦的氣流。 它的舌頭是否停留在那兒，微微跳動，貌似在品味這一刻？ 當你發現並非所有的吸血鬼都以血為食 — 有些吸血鬼以記憶為食時，你是否 經歷過一種沈淪、噁心的黑暗？ 你是否曾經……咳咳，讓我重新描述這個問題：你是否曾經走進一個房間，突 然忘記了你為什麽進來？ 原文作者：IPostAtMidnight

My Sister's Sculpture My Mother told me about it when I was around 6 years old. She told me I wasn't an only child, I was one of two little girls. You see, she told me that when I was first born along with my twin sister, she died the evening she was born. She never told me why or how she died.or when they had the funeral for her. She told me about my Father going into a deep sense of mourning, and so to let us never forget my little sister my Father made a sculpture ofher. She was painted to every last detail. Her cute blue eyes to the little dimples in her cheeks. My Father would copy me as a reference since we were twins, and as I grew up I thought the sculpture was of me, but now that my Mother cleared this all up I felt more close to the sculpture than I did before. It wasn't long until I noticed that every year; on my birthday my Father would replace the sculpture and now the sculpture looked the same age as me, as if the sculpture would follow me as l aged. My Father continued to do this well into my teenage years, capturing her older and more mature features and the change in her face. On my 18th birthday I realised I could not sleep. I was wondering how my Father made the sculpture so detailed to me so late into the night. Perhaps he took a photo of me and paints it in every detail? I was curious. So I desided to creep my way downstairs to see if could catch my Father making the sculpture, and as l peeked my head around the kitchen door I felt all the colour of my face drain. There, on the Kitchen table my Father was injecting the “sculpture” with a liquid as he whispered "You will always be my little sculpture." as I watched the “sculpture's” hands twitch.

The Growths May 12, 2008 / Madness, Paranoia, and Mental Illness / anonymously authored / 2 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — 2 minutes I’d had them ever since I was a kid. I can remember being incredibly self-conscious about them, hiding them in my pockets under books and bags. The kids at school never said anything to my face, but I knew they were laughing behind my back. I remember asking my parents to take me to the doctor, to get them checked out. The growths on my hands seemed to be the elephant in the room back then, since they’d just say I was fine and change the subject. But I knew better. I had tried to remove them as a child, but without avail; trying to get them off was always a lost cause because I couldn’t continue once the pain kicked in. But today was different. It’s amazing how numb you can get with a couple of tourniquettes and a bottle of drink. I was originally planning to use sharps, but figured that trying to slice through the tough growths would be too arduous in my state. I opted for the slightly more technological plan B. I had to hurry though. I was already pretty light-headed and was starting to feel dizzy. My hands and forearms, nearly blue, couldn’t wait much longer either. The whirring of the blender helped to put me in a sort of trance–ready to do what I had wanted to do since I first looked down at my strange formations. I shoved my left hand in first. The immediate sensation of sharp blades slicing through was jarring, but I was surprised at how well the alcohol was working–I expected it to hurt more. I could hear the sharp metal churning and cutting, working perfectly as planned. I pressed my hand down harder. All those bad memories, all of the embarrassment–all of those horrible things were now nothing more... Breaking from the feelings of ecstasy, I pulled out before the blades hit knuckle. I smiled, taking a good look at my new hand. As for the growths–well, five down, and five to go!

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.

The Answers As I lived my life, I had always pondered on the mysteries of the universe. I wondered what it all meant, why we were all here, and what lie beyond. That was the reason I became a scientist. I slaved over my work trying to unlock the unknown whole of creation. Always fighting a never ending battle to seek answers for life's greatest questions. Then, when my life came to an end from an untimely accident, I found myself standing on the precipice to eternity. In the seemingly infinite chasm of darkness, a voice called out a question to me... "Shall all of the answers be revealed to you, or will you swim the sea of creation in unknowing bliss?" "Please... Show me the answers I have tirelessly searched for and still seek!" "Very well..." A sudden emergence of a blinding light bathed me, and I was brought into the entirety of knowledge kicking and screaming. That was almost two years ago... Today I lay in my playpen attempting my last ditch efforts at telling my new Mom and Dad what I know, but all they see, and all they've seen for months, is a child at play, talking gibberish. My urgency grows and the fear begins to consume my mind as I realize... the better I get at communicating with them, the more of what I know fades from my memory.

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.

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?

They’re in the house. No more than a moment or two passes before the door to the bedroom starts shuddering. The things I piled against it are holding, for now, but I know, realistically, that they’re going to manage to come through. I keep rocking my little girl, humming a lullaby in her ear to calm her as she cries. The pounding grows in force and volume, the frame starting to crack. I put my little girl on my lap, her back to my chest, and I stroke her head with both hands, from the top of her scalp, down across her ears, just as I’ve done. Just the way she loves it. The effect is instantaneous. Her desperate crying calms to a series of sobs and hiccoughs, her small body shuddering against mine in fear. I keep humming to her, soothing her hair, acting for all the world as if nothing is out of place, not a single thing amiss. Agonisingly slowly, in a reverse cadence of the sound of splintering wood, she calms down. I can feel it when she stops tensing, as I keep stroking her down the sides of her head. A final hiccough of a sob, and she falls quiet, her body relaxed. She doesn’t even have time to realise what’s happening as I twist her neck with a violent jerk, accompanied by a dry snap of a sound. She’s dead before she can even slump down into my lap. The door is giving way, the furniture pushed back. I may be torn limb from limb while I scream, but at least my baby angel’s safe from harm. 8 YEARS AGO

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

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😷 https://kidsinpain.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/Vaccine-Pain-Needle-Fear-Resources-v2-November-2021.pdf 😷

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⢦⡀⠐⡄⠀⠀⢳⡀⠘⢦⡀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢦⣄⣸⡇⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠘⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠤⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠈⡇⠙⢆⠘⠆⠀⠀⢳⣄⠀⠙⢦⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠀⣸⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠠⢼⢲⢯⠻⡉⢯⠉⠙⣏⠻⣖⠒⠧⣄⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠹⣧⡀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⡇⠀⡏⡇⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡀⠸⡼⡆⠳⡹⡌⢣⠀⢱⠑⢌⠢⡀⠐⡌⡇⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠈⢻⡄⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⢰⣥⣧⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⡇⡇⠀⠙⣜⣎⢆⠈⡆⠀⠱⣝⢆⠘⢣⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠙⣆⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⢀⡴⠊⢹⢠⣸⡄⡆⣧⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢱⠀⡇⡇⠀⠀⠈⢾⣞⠀⢇⠀⠀⠈⢮⢣⣸⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⢀⡼⡏⢠⠀⢸⢸⠈⣷⡀⢻⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⠀⡇⠃⣀⣤⢖⣒⣾⣦⣺⣒⠀⠀⠀⠳⡹⣷⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠸⡀⣠⠋⢸⢧⠈⠀⢸⠘⠀⠘⣧⡘⡌⢆⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠘⡆⠀⠀⡏⢸⢸⢰⢊⣵⣾⡿⠿⣷⣲⣾⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠱⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡄⠀⡷⢹⠀⢸⠈⣆⠄⠸⡇⠀⠀⠹⡷⡱⡈⣧⡀⠘⡄⠀⠀⢱⠀⢠⢃⢾⣸⢸⣿⢟⡉⡰⠺⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣧⡀⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⢡⠀⢹⠈⡆⢸⢸⠘⣆⠀⣇⡠⠤⣒⣛⣛⣷⡙⢷⣄⠸⡄⠀⠀⡇⡜⣸⢸⡇⡜⠃⠎⠀⣷⣶⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢿⣷⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⢸⢸⠘⡄⠀⢇⢇⠈⡏⡆⢘⣖⣿⣿⡿⣿⣛⣻⠿⠿⣄⠙⢷⣷⠀⠀⢰⢁⠇⣾⢁⠇⠀⠀⠀⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠁⢻⢸⡟⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⠘⡈⡇⢱⠀⠈⣞⠀⣇⢇⢪⣾⢟⣷⣟⣩⣽⣿⣷⡄⠈⠁⠀⠹⡄⢠⠇⡞⠠⠇⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠙⠻⠛⠀⡠⢾⠘⠁⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⠀⠀⢹⡆⡇⠸⡌⢇⠀⠘⣆⠸⡈⣿⡏⣼⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⣇⢎⡞⠀⠀⠰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠃⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣇⠀⢸⢳⢸⠀⢱⡈⢆⠀⣏⠣⣷⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠉⢻⠀⠀⠀⢫⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠒⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⡄⠈⡏⣇⢇⠀⢳⡈⢆⢻⡄⠈⣿⣧⠸⣏⠁⠈⠻⠿⠃⠀⠼⠇⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣤⢀⢀⠀⠆⠄⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⡄⠸⣾⣞⡆⠸⡵⡌⠛⡝⣄⠈⠙⠳⠙⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢠⠊⠐⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⣿⣿⣿⣦⢻⣿⣞⠀⢣⠘⢆⠱⡈⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠒⠒⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡛⠉⠀⠛⠛⠳⣿⡏⠣⡈⢆⠈⠳⣵⡌⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠬⡟⢄⡸⠪⣦⠀⠈⠻⢎⣧⠀⠀⣎⠞⠃⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⡄⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠑⡆⢸⠓⠀⠀⢸⠈⣧⠘⠋⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⡔⠀⠀⠀⢸⢀⠃⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⢱⠈⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⡏⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⡟⠀⢰⠁⠀⠀⠀⡎⢸⢀⣧⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⠁⠀⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⢺⠁⢠⠇⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⡘⣸⢹⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣾⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠢⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠚⠁⠀⢸⠀⡜⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⡰⢻⠁⣷⠃⢸⡘⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠉⠉⠑⠒⠢⠤⠤⣄⣀⣀⡀⢀⣀⠤⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣶⠁⢰⠁⠀⠀⡴⠁⡞⢠⠏⠀⠀⣇⢣⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⠸⡀⡆⠀⠀⠀⣠⢺⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⢳⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⢠⠇⠀⢀⡜⡇⢰⢁⠎⠀⠀⣀⣸⡜⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⡆⡇⢹⠀⠀⡰⢁⡟⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⢀⡎⠀⣠⠟⢲⣾⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⡽⠛⠛⠢⠤ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⣵⢹⠸⣇⡰⢁⡿⠀⢱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠚⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢀⠎⢀⠜⠁⣠⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⢃⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⣰⠁⢯⡆⡿⢡⡿⠁⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠔⠉⢀⡴⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡰⢡⣎⠔⠁⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⡎⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⣰⡏⠀⠈⡿⢡⡟⠣⡀⠀⠀⠈⢆⠀⢀⣤⣾⣾⣶⣾⠟⠋⠉⠑⢒⠾⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠒⠊⣹⣵⠟⠁⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⡜⠀⠀⠀⡴⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⣰⢻⠁⠀⡼⢡⡟⠙⡆⠙⠢⣀⠀⠈⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠾⠒⠊⠉⠉⠉⠉⠒⠤⣀⠀⠈⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⡸⠀⠀⠀⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⡔⠉⠙⠢⣜⢠⡟⢱⢠⢿⣄⡴⢫⣷⡦⣄⡻⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢱⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣀⣀⠎⠀⣇⣀⡀⠀⠈⢻⠀⢸⡼⡰⠋⠂⣾⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡉⠀⡜⠀⡼⠈⠉⠛⢷⣄⠘⡄⠸⣿⠃⠀⢠⢻⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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The Missed Call May 23, 2008 / Strange and Unexplained / anonymously authored / 1 minute of reading . Estimated reading time — < 1 minute A strange ringtone plays on your cell phone, you reach for it but whoever it was must have hung up, a wrong number maybe. You look at the phone anyway. You’ve missed a call. You listen to it. When you put the phone to your ear. Suddenly you hear a scream of pain, you toss the cell across the room, but you can still hear it. When you finally pick the phone up you see who the call was from, you realize who’s voice it was. Yours.

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CREEPYPASTA ar كريبي باستا fa کریپی‌پاستا he קריפיפסטה ja クリーピーパスタ ko 크리피파스타 mk Крипипаста ru Крипипаста sr Крипипаста uk Крипі-паста zh_yue 恐怖意式麪 creepypastas horror-related legends or images that have been copy-and-pasted around the Internet Arabic كريبيباستا نوع من أنواع قصص الرعب Bulgarian крипипаста Czech creepypasta výraz pro hororové pověsti nebo obrázky šířící se pomocí internetu German Creepypasta Internetphänomen Persian کریپی پاستا No description defined French creepypasta légende urbaine diffusée sur internet Hebrew קריפיפסטה אגדת אימה Indonesian creepypasta cerita berbau legenda-horor atau gambar yang banyak disalin tempel di internet Italian Creepypasta racconto horror Japanese クリーピーパスタ インターネット上でコピー・アンド・ペーストを通じて流布している、恐怖を催させる説話や画像 Korean 크리피파스타 No description defined Macedonian крипипаста Norwegian Bokmål creepypasta gufne historier som er spredd over internett Dutch creepypasta horrorlegende die veelvuldig op internet gekopieerd en geplakt wordt Polish creepypasta krótkie legendy lub ilustracje z dreszczykiem rozpowszechniane w Internecie creepypastas Portuguese creepypasta lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet Brazilian Portuguese creepypasta lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet creepypastas Romanian Pasta infricosatoare No description defined Russian крипипаста жанр интернет-фольклора Serbian Крипипаста Страшни видео снимци са интернета Turkish Creepypasta İnternet'te yayılan, korku içerikli efsaneler veya resimler Ukrainian Кріпі-паста No description defined Vietnamese Creepypasta Những câu chuyện ngắn kinh dị Cantonese Creepypasta No description defined Chinese (Taiwan) 蠕動義大利麵 No description defined Traditional Chinese 蠕動意麵 No description defined 恐怖意麵Creepypasta Chinese 蠕動意麵 No description defined 恐怖蠕動傳説 Spanish Creepypasta breves historias de terror

SherlockHolmesz 25 apr 2023 On average, you walk past 36 murderers in your lifetime. ~iFunny

Digital_F1aw POV: You were a respected scientist who made an uncanny discovery in the Siberian permafrost. You tried to warn them, but no one listened. As the rumbling footsteps creep closer and closer, you can't help but laugh. 5 jul

My Fear of Water pazuzuscrypt: I’ve always had a terrible fear of being submerged completely in water. Not that I can’t swim or anything. My dad made me learn; he said I almost drowned when I was really young. I was afraid of it because, for as long as I can remember, whenever I am under water and look up at the surface I see a woman reaching down to me with a warm smile with glowing golden hair and dark blue eyes. Even if its just in a bathtub. It always happened it was just normal for me, but i never got used to it. It was unnerving, but also soothing at the same time. She always made me feel like it was okay. I still avoided it, though, because I was just a kid and it was really freaky. I never told my dad about it as a kid, but I did ask him about my mom. He never wanted to talk about her. Sometimes he even got mad at me for trying too hard to bring it up. It was only recently that I described this apparition to him. He nearly drove into a telephone pole; obviously he knew something. I asked him again, about my mom. He still wouldn't say much, except that she died when I was very young, and that she loved me very much. He also admitted that her hair and eyes were those colors, just like mine. So I did some research on my own, looking up her name for myself on my birth certificate and trying to find any references I could any news clips about a boy nearly drowning, any thing. I mostly wanted a picture, something I could match to my guardian angel. Today, buried in our town library, I found it. WINCHESTER: Withie, 28, drowned yesterday evening after climbing a razerwire fence and fleeing to a nearby resevoir. A funeral is scheduled by her family for the 25th. She was institutionalized just six months ago, after being found “not guilty” of attempted murder on grounds of insanity. Her husband Withie had acted quickly enough to rescue their infant child when she was found trying to drown him in a bathtub. Monday, December 14th, 2015 | via: pazuzuscrypt | source: pazuzuscrypt

學會數數的女兒 昨晚11點50分左右，我的女兒叫醒了我。我和妻子把她從她朋友薩利的生日會 上接回家，並把她放在床上。 我妻子走進臥室看書，而我在看勇士隊比賽時睡著了。 “爸爸，”她悄聲說，扯著我的襯衫袖子。”猜猜我下個月會有多大？””我不知 道，美女，”我邊說邊戴上眼鏡。”多大了？”她笑著舉起四根手指。” 現在是7點半。我的妻子和我已和她一起待了近8個小時，她仍拒絕告訴我們她 從哪得到這些。 原文作者： RealScience87

掌握壽命的男人 他在十歲生日時得到了這塊表。這是一隻普通的灰色塑料腕表，除了它正在倒 計時的事實之外，其他方面都很普通。 “這是你留在世界上的所有時間，兒子。明智地利用它。” 而他確實做到了。隨 著手表的滴答聲，這個男孩，成為了一個男人，盡情地享受生活。他爬山、遊 海。他談笑風生，享受生活與愛。這個人從不害怕，因為他清楚地知道自己還 剩下多少時間。最終，手表開始了最後的倒計時。 老人站在那裡看著他所做的一切，他所建立的人生。 5. 他與商業夥伴握手，這個人一直是他的朋友和知己。 4. 他的狗過來舔他的手，男人輕輕地拍了拍它的頭。 3. 他擁抱了他的兒子，確認自己是個好父親。 2. 他最後一次親吻了妻子的額頭。 1. 老人笑了笑，閉上了眼睛。 然後，什麽也沒發生。手表發出一聲提示音，而後關閉。那人仍活生生地站在 那裡。你也許會認為，在那一刻，他應該是欣喜若狂。 相反地，在他的生命中，這個人第一次感到害怕。 原文作者：gridster2

https://www.creepypasta.com/ya-te-veo/

MAR 08 When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored wristbands which symbolize other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead people. There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator door opened, another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised, the woman reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other woman in. The doctor said, “That was the woman I just operated on. She died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was wearing?” The woman smiled, raised her arm, and said, “Something like this?”

Fatherly Advice She broke it off with me today. She said something about how we just weren’t meant to be and that we could be friends. They always say that. At first I was hurt. Then I was angry. How could she do this to me after everything I’ve done for her? Not meant to be? I started to get really mad! But then I remembered the advice my father gave me long ago after my first big heartbreak. “Son, some-times a woman just doesn’t want to give you her heart, and that’s OK, because you can always cut it out of her chest...” 8 YEARS AGO

୧ ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🧧💞 ⋅ ࿐ ˊˎ- ʜɪɪɪ 彡 ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ⟡ ৲ ⌗ 🎋 .ೃ ɴᴀᴍᴇ;; ୭̥╰₊✧ ﾟ🎖 ⠂⚝ ᴀɢᴇ;; ꒰ 🥡 ꒱ ࿐ ➳ ᴢᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ;; ⌗ 🎴 ‧₊˚ ⪨ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ;; ୧ 彡 ೄ ༅ ➵ 🍵 ˎˊ˗ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟs;;

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ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧

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ᵀʰᵘʳˢᵈᵃʸ ᴬᴾᴿᴵᴸ ¹, ²⁰²¹

ᶠᴱᴮ ²⁹，²⁰²⁰

⁰⁴|⁰⁷|²⁰²¹

🔪🩸🩶🖤✨🫧

👹🪓🥰

🔪🩸🥩 gore,🥀

The Ethics of Work Aug 14th, 2015 The Ethics of Work I have always taken great pride in my job, and in the type of work that I do. It’s been said that I lucked into my line of work. That may be true, but it is no fluke that I’ve taken it by the reins and become a master. It is sometimes very dirty work, but I never complaine. I’ve always believed that the bad parts of anything must be accepted right along with the good; that applies to one’s livelihood as well as anything else. I began honing my skills at a very young age. I didn’t know I was doing so, but fate dealt me a kind hand. How fortunate is it to walk into a profession that was naturally developed by things already done in the course of one’s life? Not many can say they’ve been blessed like that. My job takes no breaks for weather either. Hot, cold, rain, wind, all elements are simply ignored. When there is work to be done, I do it, and I ask no questions. A duty is a duty, and as I said before, I’m proud to perform that duty. I have always had that outlook, from working on the farm and cutting wood as a youth; things had to be done, and I did them with a song In my heart and a smile on my face. Speaking of smiles, my clients are always greeted with one. I think that is important. Not that the smiles were solely for my clientele; my joy in my work puts those smiles there, and no effort in the world could kept them off of my face. I guess it was inevitable that I’ve begun taking my work home with me. It’s said that if you love your job, you never truly work a day in your life. That certainly applies to me, and I practise my work as often as I can. I think that’s what gotten me into trouble. I’ve been relieved of my job, because of my “off the clock” work. I think that’s unfair, but I don’t make the rules. My job was always to help enforce the rules, and I have to respect that now, even though I’m now on the other side of them. I hear the grindstone outside, sharpening the big axe; the axe that I wielded so professionally and perfectly. I was state executioner, you see. In a few hours I get to meet my replacement.

𒐫 ꧅ .̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̟͕͔̠̦͍̻̂̍̿̒͗̒.̴̛̦̬̤͈͉͚̾̎̓͝.̵̟̻͉̗̝̾ͅ.̷̢̡̰̩̝̜̙̄̌̽̊̎̑̋.̷̼̣̭͆́̈́́̐.̷͙̪̈́͐͝.̵̥̼͑̈̃͌͝.̵̡̧̘̗͇̲̼̓̉̂̈̈́́̀̚͘.̷̧̡̠͈̪̈́͒͘.̷̗̣̜͑.̴̢͉͔̬͐.̷̨̢͕̞͔̺̭͓͒̋̔͜.̴͈͖̤̥͖͈̘͓͐́̏̀̇.̵̦̠͎̬͎͓̭̅̔̈́͋͌͆.̷̧̧̛̬̥̌̈́͆͛̌̔͆̚͘.̸̡̪̈́̇̈̂͒̍͘.̵͍̬̥̲̪̱̞̭̱̂.̴̫͂͑̀̅͠ͅ.̵̡̡̗̮̠̻͉͈̓̍̓̈͑̚.̶̨̛͓̗̗͕̃̆̀̌̃͜.̵̱̀͗̂͘͝.̴̛̳͙͙̜̱͖͂̈́̃͘̚.̶̨͍̩̻̮̼̳͑͘.̵̹̏͒̃͠.̷͈͎͖̻̳̮͇͖̾̎̅̌.̷̪̱̗̲̝̩̚.̷̪̼̰̞̯̳̬̄́̋̾̌̉͊͜͝͠ͅ.̵̭̮̞̩̹͇͚̳͔̈͠ͅ.̶̪͖̯͍͓͕͆͊̑̀͘͜.̴̼̟̞̘̩̽͜.̵̫͛̐́̂̿̒.̴̲͉̥̯̰̥̮̘̓.̸̨͍̔͑͂̈́̈́.̷̬͕̠̳̟̈̈́͆͑.̵̡̠̳͈̊̄̾̌͆̓̃͂̽͝.̴̢̬͔̥͙̠̭͔̳̹͂̀.̵̧̫̗̰͙̇͆̐͑͗̇̉̚.̵̧͚̼̙̱̱̖̳̅.̸̥͇̤̦͓̟͓̓̾̅̓̀̀͒̄̉̈.̵̳̫̦͔̳̯̒̏̇̇̈́͐̀.̶̨͔̼̖͈̉̀͋͜ͅ.̵̧̭̝̩̥͕̫̬̉̌.̸̡̢̣̭̙͔̻̻̝͂̊̍̓́̄̊̑͊̕.̴̳͎̲̟͠.̷̛̂̍

. 9 years ago The First of Many I’m sleeping in my bed. A creaking sound comes from outside my bedroom window. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s 12:04. I always wake up at 12:04. The creaking gets louder and more intense. I roll out of bed and open my curtains to see what’s causing the noise. There in the yard is a tall, thin black figure with a pale white face. It has no nose, and just two empty sockets for eyes. It’s oblong mouth is shaking, obviously the source of the creaking noise. The thing’s cheekbones are sunken in, and it’s ribs jut out of it's shadowy skin. There’s an aura of smog surrounding it. As soon as I look into it’s lifeless sockets it releases an ear piercing shriek. I let go of the curtains and run to my door. I have to warn my parents and make sure my sister is safe. As soon as I open the door it’s in my hallway waiting. I freeze. The air turns icy. It slowly reaches one of it's long skinny arms towards me. I still can’t move. It has three long jagged fingers. Being this close, I can see that it's flesh is scarred, twisted and torn. Blacker than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s longest finger hooks under my jaw, and through my mouth. I try to scream but nothing but a wet gurgle comes out. A proud hum comes from the thing’s chest. It seems proud. It lifts me off my feet and pins me to the wall by my chin. It’s other hand slowly digs all three of it's dagger- like fingers into my neck. I’m choking now. It releases me, and I slide down the wall. It looks down at me and my vision starts to flicker. Then it turns, and with two long strides, sneaks into my parents bedroom. I try making any kind of noise to warn them, but nothing comes out. I hear muffled screaming. Then nothing. It pokes it’s head out of the door to make sure I’m still watching. Then it drags my parent’s bloodƴ corpses into the hallway. Their throats are slit. It lays them side by side in front of me. Only a foot away from my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish to dıe already. I feel claws on my eyes. It pinches my eyelids and with one fluid motion rips them both off. Everything burns. I can barely make out my parents’ faces through all the red. It leans down and presses it's cheek to theirs. The corners of it's dark mouth lift into a wicked grin. Everything goes black. I wake up in bed. It’s 12:04. There’s a creaking coming from the window.

B̴͍̮̙̤̟̼͇̻͎͚̜̣̭̥̈̈́͛͌͜͠Ȩ̸͓̟͓͕̜̖̤̭̙̊͗̌̀̿͆ͅ ̴̩̖̎̉̓̆͊̇̐͑̆͐̊̋̓͗͂N̶̢̞͖̙̥̩͚͉͖̬̭̾͊̿̋̆͆̆̅͒̏͠͝͝ͅͅÖ̷̻̳̰́̐̏̐͑T̶̤̼̹͙̥͍̞͉͔̰͉̗̈́́͜͝͝ ̵̨͕͔̪̬͈͚̞̯͙͌͒̾͋A̴̧͕̻̾̃̓͑͂̓͑́͛͊͆̏F̴̤̟̟͓̩̣̋̂͌̾̌͌̈́̾́̊͝͝ͅȒ̷̰̹̫͈̺̱̦͈͚͉̹͊͘̕͝͝Ă̸̯̭̞͇̻͇̜͎͉͕̝̮̟̂͑̆̔̽̄̈́̾́͗̋͑̂͜I̸̢̞̞̦͚̹͎̯̰͍͔̬͇͑̔̆̌̎̕Ď̷͍̯̱̞͈̲͔

Thorny people, get out of here. There could be little kids just trying to find cute kaomoji's, then see your horrible stuff. Copy & Paste this, and Submit it to spread the message #bekind #stopthethornys 12/6/2023

OCT 11 The Girl in the Photograph One school day, a boy named Twm was sitting in class and doing maths. It was six more minutes until after school. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eyes. His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture. When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran so fast that no one else could grab it. He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was holding up two fingers, as if formed into a peace sign. She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said “No.” He was devastated. When he was home, he asked his sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said “No.” It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep. In the middle of the night Twm was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked to his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone. The next day again he asked his neighbours if they knew her. Everybody said, “Sorry, no.” When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew. She said “No.” He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep. Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the girlish giggling. He walked across the road, when suddenly he got hit by car. He passed, with the picture in his hand. The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. Suddenly he saw the picture and picked it up. He saw a cute girl, holding up three fingers. made by arood / contributors: arood

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Ꭾ𝙴ƦɪᏞㅤᥫ᭡⚠️

🪓🪓🔰

🫀🩸💌🪓

now someone is saying nsfw only come up when u search it- here is an emoji combo! ♡₊°○☆

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möge der Teufel mit euch sein

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˖⁺‧₊˚˚₊‧⁺˖

✂ - - -

⚝☃︎

𓆣🦴

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