Darkwebcore Emojis & Text

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.

dark mode users :) .　　　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　 　 　˚　　 . ✦ 　　　　.　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.　　　　　　　•　　　　　　　　. 　 ,　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　  　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . 　　　　　　 　　　. 　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ . 　.　　　　　　.　　　 　 　　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　.　　　　  . ☀️ 　　　　　　　　　•　　　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　        　　　　　　　　.　　　　　. • 　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　. . . ✦　　　　.　　　　　　       ✦　   　　　　 .　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　       　   　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　       　    ✦ . • . 　　　　　　　•　　　.　　　　　. 　 🌏　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　  　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . 　　　　　　. 　　　. 　　. 　 　　•　　　　. . ✦ .　　　　　　　.　　　 　 　　　　. 　　　　.　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　　.　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　 .  　 ​　.　　　　　　. 　 　　.　　　　　　.　　.　　　　  　　　　　　   　　　　.　　.　　　　　　　.　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　   .　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . •　　　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　      .  　　　　　　　　.　　　　　. • 　　　　　　　　.　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 .　 　　🪐　　 　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　.　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 　 　　　　🌘 　　　.　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　.　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . •　　.　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　        　　.　　　　　　.　　　. 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　 　　　　　 🔭

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.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Averagebiker21 After I asked the crystal ball to tell me how to escape death, I was very confused as it read "No, thanks honey, I'm full" However, something clicked in my head when my wife offered me cake after dinner...

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

GENERAL ADVICE FOR USING SITE so we can keep it up NO DOXXING- leaking a specific person's residential address and who lives full name STORY TIME- don't leak a real person's full name when typing out a juicy gossip tea but you can change the first name or to remain anonymous instead. Otherwise go and create let writing flow! PREACHING- don't over fill with arguing on whether or not to promote, such as your discord server nor how to raise family age viewers must be. You can tag yourself tho.

can ppl stop asking 'where is the beef' because it takes up space on here use a different platform if you want to comment on others Even though most NSFW content is blocked, please limit it before bots and or moderators restrict and/or take down the submissions site please thx bye

Like this is you have a bf/gf/crush <3 February 12th, 2014, 2:44 AM

“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.

qt-emoticons ꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ +*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+ 𖦊້ ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ ──｡ﾟ.o｡( ･༚̮･ )｡o.ﾟ｡── *⃝̣◌⑅⃝◍♡◌*⃝̥◍♡ ˚ . ˚ · ⋆ 　 .　* 🌸 ✦ 　* 　 　　. 🌸 🌸 　. 　 · ✧　 ⊹ . 　　 　　 　　 * 　　　. ˚ . 🌸 　.🌸 . . 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ•.¸¸.•✼*¨* ꔰꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꗥꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔰ · ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· · ... 💘 ... · ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· · ◌ ⁺ ˖˚ ◌ ⑅ ˚₊ ◌ ⁺⑅ ˚ ◌” .·˙·.·˙·.·˙·. ̗̀ꪶ♡͙۪۫ׄꦿ┈━┈━┈ ⁽🍓⁾˟◦۪۪̥ ┈╮ ｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡ ✣✤✥✦❉❈✲✦ ✧✩ ✪ ✫ ✬ ✭ ✮ ✯ ✰ ✱ ✲✵ ✶ ✷ ✸ ✹ ✺ ✻ ✼ ✽۞ ❅ ❆ ❈ ❉ ❊ ❋ ✙ ✚ ✛ ✜ ✠ ✢ ✣ ✤ ✥ † ⋆⋆⋆★ ★ ★⋆⋆⋆ ❲✦•·····❳°•━━━━━━⋱ ⋮ ⋰ (+[__]∙:∙) [+..••] · · • • • ✤ • • • · · ＊｡｡*ﾟ*｡＊｡*ﾟ*｡｡＊ 🔪·•°🖤°•·🗡 (:̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) *•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•* ⋆*˸⸼᮫͓ͯ̽˸*⋆ ࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚ ❁⃘़︎•･･͓┈̊︎˳･̥̤˳┈̊︎･͓･•❁⃘़︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ♡ͥ ♡ͦ ♡ͮ ♡ͤ ¸.•.¸¸୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¨*✼*¨୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¸¸.•.¸ ࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚ ⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫ ⋆ฺ=͟͟͞͞=͟͟͞͞ ୨୧┄┈୨୧‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆̩·̩̩୨˚̣̣̣̣͙୧·̩̩⋆̩*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧୨୧┈┈୨୧ 𓃺𓃡𓃾𓃿𓄀𓄃𓆙𓆑𓆦𓆨 ۰ ⸼ ۫ ◌ ⋮ ៚： ⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆　⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆　⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆　⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆ •̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ˚༘ ⃟ ⋮ ᝰ. ˖࣪ ୨୧⸝⸝˙˳⑅˙⋆꒰🍨꒱⋆˙⑅˙˳⸜⸜୨୧ .・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・. . * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹ ‎⌖˚‎٭ ﴾﴿ ⌖˚‎٭ 𓂂 𓏸 𓐍 ◌ ════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. *•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•* ⋆⌁⌁⌁❤︎⌁⌁⌁⋆ .⃗ ⸼ * ۪۪۪۫ ˖ ˑ ܸܸ ۰ ⸼ ❉ *̊०ֻ̊॰˳ֶ̊॰̥०͙‧₊ ⃙ ⃚ ⃛ ⃜ ⃝ ⃞ ⃟ ⃠ ⃡ ⃢=͟͟͞͞=͟͟͞͞ ꫂ͙ꨩ⃟͙˖⃟꒰ ཻུ۪۪❁꫶͙ꪳᬽ⁖̤⃰ᮀ𐬆⢎̷⃛ꪳ͏̨᪽̌͊⃢▓ུ⃛ ┃ೃ͓᪰▒̷꫶̞⃟ᬺ⃔༅⁝⁽❪ ❛ ❜₎❫⁾⢎ ᬐꦹꦵ⃢˖꫶﮳ᮀ░꫶̼˖˳ᮀ⃜ᬸৡ꫶᪶̼⃜⸙ୁ꫶ ✦°.•⠀∗.•.°✦°.•⠀∗.•.° ❉⸼ * ۪۪۪۫ ˖ ˑ ܸܸ ꜜ ⸃⸃ ⸼ ꞈ ⸗ ⭏ ▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴ ↻ ⇁ ﹏ ゛ ⇢ ﾞ  ⁾⁾ ⭞ ଽ ୭̥ ➶ ↻ ✘ ┈ ࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆࿉࿆࿆࿉࿆࿃࿆࿆࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆࿉࿆࿉࿆࿆࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆ ‎ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。 • ⊹ * ˚ ˚ * ⊹ • ॱ◌̥*⃝̣ ⋆.*⃝̥◌ॱ ̑▒⃤▒⃤░⃤ ᚔ ᚒ ᚑ ᚐ ᚐ ᚑ ᚒ ᚔ ֎֍ ᚼᕀᐝ ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ ⏤͟͟͞͞★⏤͟͟͞͞⍣∗ ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ ¸.•.¸¸୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¨*✼*¨୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¸¸.•.¸ _̴ı̴̴̡̡̡ ̡͌l̡̡̡ ̡͌l̡*̡̡ ̴̡ı̴̴̡ ̡̡͡|̲̲̲͡͡͡ ̲▫̲͡ ̲̲̲͡͡π̲̲͡͡ ̲̲͡▫̲̲͡͡ ̲|̡̡̡ ̡ ̴̡ı̴̡̡ ̡͌l̡̡̡ ༓❅⃝༓༓࿇⃝༓༓❅⃝༓ ︶᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ︶ •͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝ ⃟ ⃟⁞⃟ ୭࿔ ⃟ ⟢୭࿔ 𓋈𓊅𓉆𓈈𓄰𓌖࿂࿅࿚𝂷𓌏𓈜𓇬𓅸𓅫𓄠𓄃𓃱𓃚𓃦𓂐𖨄𖦼𖦹𖦷𖦥̻̻⊹͢₊˚ 　｡*☆∴｡　｡∴☆*｡ ｡★*ﾟﾟ*★∵★*ﾟﾟ*★｡ ☆ﾟ　　 ﾟ☆ﾟ　　 ﾟ☆ ★* 　　　　　 *★ ﾟ☆｡　　　　　　｡☆ﾟ 　*★｡　　　　 ｡★* 　 ∵☆｡　　｡☆∵ 　 　 ﾟ*★｡｡★*ﾟ 　 ﾟ*☆* ﾟ ☃︎ͫͫ᪤⁛⋱⋰◌⤨⣿⧛⧚𐀣𐇵𓅿 𖧸‧࣭․ˑ▹ ⸻ ｡۪۪۫۫↛ ♡*˚⋆｡˚｡˚♡*˚⋆｡˚ ｡˚♡*˚⋆｡˚｡˚♡ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ :-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-: ⃟⃜⃤ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ ‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ ✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎ ૰༚∘ᐤ∘༚૰✧ •┈┈┈••✦☪︎✦••┈┈┈• 🂾🂼🂻🂺🂹🂸🂷🂶🂵🂴🂳🂲🂱 𖠁𖠃𖠄𖠅𖠇𖠋𖠊𖠌𖠍𖠐𖠒𖠔𖠖𖠙𖠟𖠦𖠣𖠧𖠨𖠩𖠫𖠰𖠱𖠳𖠵𖠷𖠶𖠸𖠹𖠺𖠻𖠽𖠿𖡃𖡅𖡆𖡇𖡉𖡋𖡍𖡊𖡂𖡎𖡐𖡑𖡒𖡔𖡕𖡖𖡗𖡘𖡛𖡜𖡢𖡤𖡦𖡝𖡞𖡟𖡧𖡨𖡩𖡪𖡱𖡲𖡳𖡴𖡵𖡶𖡷𖡺𖡻𖡼𖡽𖢄𖢅𖢂𖡿𖢌𖢍𖢐𖢒𖢔𖢔𖢘𖢞𖢨𖢧𖢥𖢪𖢭𖢷𖢺𖢻𖢼𖢾𖢿𖣀𖣐𖣓𖣔𖣖𖣘𖣙𖣜𖣞𖣠𖣡𖣩𖣨𖣧𖣦𖣢𖣯𖣫𖣰𖣴𖣶𖣹𖤄𖤇𖤈𖤉𖤐𖤏𖤌𖤊𖤋𖤙𖤘𖤗𖤖𖤕𖤓𖤛𖤜𖤝𖤞𖤡𖤣𖤤𖤥𖤫𖤲𖤳𖤹𖤾𖤽𖤼𖤻𖥂𖥃𖥅𖥆𖤿𖥑𖥎𖥍𖥌𖥋𖥓𖥔𖥕𖥗𖥙𖥠𖥟𖥞𖥝𖥚𖥛𖥢𖥣𖥤𖥦𖥧𖥫𖥮𖥳𖥶𖥸𖥽𖦆𖦅𖦄𖦊𖥹𖥺𖦂𖦅𖥾𖦎𖦔𖦒𖦕𖦓𖥻𖦡𖦞𖦥𖦛𖦤𖦨𖦘𖦖𖦠𖦜𖦝𖦫𖦲𖦳𖦴𖦷𖦯𖦰𖦹𖦵𖦶𖦺𖦪𖦻𖦼𖦾𖦿𖦸𖦮𖧄𖧋𖧉𖧋𖧎𖧊𖧅𖧑𖧐𖧕𖧖𖧗𖧓𖧚𖧛𖧜𖧝𖧞𖧁𖧁𖧉𖧉𖧿𖧦𖧤𖧡𖧟𖧝𖧨𖧩𖧰𖧶𖧫𖧪𖧺𖧻𖧽𖨇𖨆𖨄𖨎𖨞𖨪𖨣𖨤𖨨𖨭𖨮𖨰𖨳𖨬𖨷𖨸𖨭 ❉✹✦ꔛ •*¨*•¸.•*¨*•¸.•*¨*•¸.•*¨*• °.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.° *｡⋆❤⃛・。.。**｡⋆❤⃛*。.。・**｡⋆❤⃛*・。.。**｡⋆❤⃛　*。*｡⋆❤⃛・ ˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳ ◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘୨♡୧∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡ ᠃◍⃪𖤘֥❜𖣢ׅ ░❀⃟ ⃟⁞⃟⟢💗 ╳⃟⃝⃟╳꧇❁〬‧໋݊𖠵ฺ۟ 𖨆︎᪥︎𖣔︎❁︎❁︎𑁍︎☻︎𓇽︎𖣘︎ ▓⃟❀⃟▒▒⃟❀⃟▓ 𔘓 ִֶ 𖡼໋᳝֘·𖦸໋᳝݊·ુ ‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆｡˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ ̟̮『̸̝̘͕̗̠̟̩̮̣̲̪̻͖̩ͧ̒̆̆̾͘͜͝ͅͅ　̴̟̹̰̋̈ͨ̔͛́ͪ̀͟　ͣ͋ͯͣ͋̚ ̸̛̫̖͚̫̼͚̫̭̺̙̙͚ͨ̃ͯ̏̄̓̐̋̽͢』̺̝͚̠͎̭̱ͫ̎́̃̽͑́͞ͅͅ ̟̮『̸̝̘͕̗̠̟̩̮̣̲̪̻͖̩ͧ̒̆̆̾͘͜͝ͅͅ　̴̟̹̰̋̈ͨ̔͛́ͪ̀͟　ͣ͋ͯͣ͋̚ ̸̛̫̖͚̫̼͚̫̭̺̙̙͚ͨ̃ͯ̏̄̓̐̋̽͢ ⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱ ･:*:･ *꒦꒷ִֶָ·* ❁꫶ཻུ۪۪᭭⃟ ⃟⸙͎ ﾟ･✻･ﾟ･✻･ﾟﾟ･✻･ﾟ･✻･ﾟﾟ･✻･ﾟ･✻･ﾟﾟ･✻･ ﾟ＊.｡.＊ﾟ＊.｡.＊ﾟ＊.｡.＊ﾟ＊.｡.＊ﾟ ꧁₆⁶₆꧂ ᪥✯𖣔𖧷߷Ꙭ⁂⌘𖦹۞⍟𖣘𓇽𖦹❁᯾★☆✫✰᯽𓃟𓂉𓀬𓆙ଈ𓃒𓀡𓃠𓅿𐂂𓆈𓃗𓃱𓀿𓅷𓆏𖠌𐂃𐂊␈𓄁𓃰 ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。 •°• ✾ •°• ⍤⃝♡⃝♡⃝♡⃝♡ 🍒💕.・🍒💕.・ ☆☆.｡.:*･ﾟ*:.｡.☆☆.｡.:*･ﾟ*:.｡.☆☆ ■□▢▣▤▥▦▧▨▩▪▫▬▭▮▯▰▱▲△▴▵▶▷►▻▼▽▾▿◀◁◄◅◆◇◈◉◊○◌◍◎●◐◑◒◓◔◕◖◗◘◙◚◛◜◝◞◟◠◡◢◣◤◥◦◧◨◩◪◫◬◭◮◯░▒❏❐❑ ･*:.｡.･*:.｡.･*:.｡ ᪣᪥᳀꙰꙳⋆ᯭ ༘◍⃘۪۪៶ ✼　••┈┈••🎀••┈┈••　✼ ꔰꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꗥꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔰ ♥*♡+:｡.｡ ⍤⃝｡.｡:+♡*♥ •◦ ❈ ◦• - ̗̀ะ🌙໒❫ ⋮ ➮ ★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★ • 🌛 •┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈• 🌛 • ¸„ø¤º°¨ ¨°º¤ø„¸ ꒰🍒‧₊° ۪۪۪꒱'- ｡ﾟ．☆≡｡ﾟ．☆≡｡ﾟ．☆≡｡ﾟ．☆≡｡ﾟ．☆≡｡ﾟ． 𓈒ⴰ𓂂𓃉૰༚◦𐬹꠶𑂻꠨∘￮⸰ᛜ᭜॰ᐤ°˚꧆ᣞⵓ𖡺𐬿𐬾․𝀛˙ᣟ⋱⋰⁖ ⁚ ⁛ ⁘ ★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ .｡❁*.:｡❁ ₊ ༝ ･ ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆ :+:-・:+:-・:+:-・:+:-・:+: ✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎ °˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚° ̑⸬ᨳ̑▒⃤▒⃤░⃤̑༄༅ ﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽ 　｡*☆∴｡　｡∴☆*｡ ｡★*ﾟﾟ*★∵★*ﾟﾟ*★｡ 𖡎݂ꪳ⃗ ᢆᚼᕽ ···ະ̽▹꒲࿐ྀུ··· ◦ᮀᨘ۬․ٰ｡˚༷｡˚༷➮ ⁺⑅ ˚ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖠋𖧷₊ ╭ ◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ╮ ╰ ◟◞ ͜ ◟ ͜ ◟◞ ╯ O °. 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+: 。.。:+* ゜ ❁.｡.:*:.｡.✽.｡.:*:.｡.❁.｡.:*:.｡.✽.｡.:*:.｡.❁.｡. 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _♥__♥_____♥__♥___ Put This _♥_____♥_♥_____♥__ Heart _♥______♥______♥__ On Your __♥_____/______♥__ Page If ___♥____\_____♥___ You Had ____♥___/___♥_____ Your Heart ______♥_\_♥_______ Broken ________♥_________…………….

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Shortest Date Ever “Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said. “Okay,” Brett replied. He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid. He picked it up. “I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder. “What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents. “It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.

Things to Remember thespacegoat: • Accidentally close a tab? Ctrl+Shift+T reopens it. • Bananas release dopamine, eat them when you’re sad. • CTRL+SHIFT+ESC is the one handed version of CTRL+ALT+DEL • Don’t brush your teeth hard, it makes them sensitive and removes enamel. • Don’t like spiders? Put citronella oil on your walls and they will not go there. • Drink one glass of water for every alcoholic drink you have, you’ll get drunk without getting a hangover. • Get clear ice cubes by boiling water before freezing it • Heal paper cuts and immediately stop the pain with chapstick. • If you accidentally write on your dry erase board with a permanent marker, scribble over it with a dry eraser marker to remove it. • If your shoes smell, put them in the freezer overnight, it will kıll the bacteria. • Make bug bites stop itching with a banana peel. • Make a paper longer with 12-point text, but 14-point periods and commas. • Need to get around a blocked website at work? Try replacing the http:// with https:// • Never send your resume as a word file (unless asked) Instead, print it to a pdf file, it’s much cleaner and professional looking. • Pick a flavour of gum you don’t normally chew, and chew it while studying during a test. • Place a piece of bread in a container with your homemade cookies and they will stay soft. • Put a dry towel into a dryer with wet clothes, they will dry faster. • Put toothpaste on a pimple and it will dry out. • Practise fake smiling in the mirror every day before going to work/school, you’ll genuinely start to feel happier. • Rub canola/olive oil on knives before cutting onions, you won’t cry, alternatively chew gum and you won’t either. • Short on time with a wrinkled dress shirt? Hang it up in the bathroom to steam it flat. • The night before, place things you don’t want to forget the next morning on top of your shoes. • Use hydrogen peroxide to remove bľood stains from clothing. • When cleaning windows use newspapers or coffee filters instead of paper towels, they will not leave streaks. • When microwaving bread products/pizza put a glass of water in with it, it will keep your bread for going spongy. • When you move into a new place you’re renting, take pictures of any and all damage, then post them on facebook (privately if preferred) so you can use the reference date as proof you didn’t do it. • When searching plane tickets online delete your cookies prior, prices go up when you visit a site multiple times.

Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.

emoji combos *pink/cute* 🌸🍼🍡☁🥛 💭🍧🍥🐰🧸 *dark/edgy* 📎⛓️📽🎬🎧 🗯🐾🍙🎹🕯 *cottagecore* 🍓🌱🍄🌈🧺 🥨🥞🥖🍞🥐 *dark academia* 🦉🍂☕🎻🕰 ⚰️📜🍩🍷🍴

life hacks If you want to download a Youtube video, just add "ss" to the URL between www. and Youtube. Posted on Jul 10, 2013

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

◌ 🌸 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁　 ‎◌ 🧚🏽‍♂️ ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗏𝗂𝖻𝖾𝗌 　 ‎◌ 🫧 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖼 ‎◌ 🌱 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗒 ‎◌ 🪷 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

r/shortscarystories 12 hr. ago Wellsong Mrs. Johnson's wise decision Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit. “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an expression of reverent concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter closing, half a second before the last candle went out. Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and consternation. “I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and empty again. The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d never been part of the scene at all. “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you want some, Mummy?”

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

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago 54321RUN "It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after my daughter's birth. But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later.

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/

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 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago Switch_B My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately. Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'

Wanna search something specific her? be it fanfic or drama, lists of tags on the following sites: https://kitugame.com/tagging https://bestnickname.com/tags

ʳ/ˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ¹⁵ ʰʳ‧ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈ_ᴿᵉᵃᵖᵉʳ_ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵⁿ ᵃ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡˢ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵃ ʲᵃⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ "ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧"

Jᴇʟʟʏ_Bᴇᴀɴ36 I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣾⠛⠻⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡏⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣷⣀⣀⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⢰⡿⠋⢉⣹⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡉⠙⢿⡆ ⢸⣇⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⣄⣸⡗ ⠈⢻⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡟⠁ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/

𝒶𝒻𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 ♡ ੈ i am loved i am beautiful i am worthy i am kind to myself i trust myself

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.

"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."

r/TwoSentenceHorror 23 hr. ago dccub86 Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed. Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Join Name of the Shame I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this. I do now. The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them. After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor. Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me. That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do. One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce. The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US. Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd. Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received. Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted. So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer. No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake. Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.

https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/

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.

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 days ago KindaNotSmart The Daily Call Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do. But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV. For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold. “Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.” “What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?” There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.” “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.” “Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.” My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address. And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door. The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.

benevola • 2y ago I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down. Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.

Tumblr | 10/6/2014 | 7:44pm | DO YOU? meeplol: Most people agree that dying while being asleep is the best way to dıe. Peaceful, not signs of tortur͘e nor paın. My grandma used to say angels carry them, the ones who are dying while being asleep, to heaven. But sometimes angels can be clumsy and drop them by accident. Remember the time you felt like falling in your sleep and suddenly woke up?

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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.

Sometimes I feel like I have my life together and then I'm like WOW that was a really nice 45 seconds November 14th, 2015, 11:51 AM

ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

petition to make this an app!! <33⩇⩇:⩇⩇

　˚ 　　 . ✧　　 　　 ˚ 　　　 . ✧　　 ˚ 　 . everything you are worried about is going to turn out ok, i promise you ˙ᵕ˙ ‧ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ﾟ｡⋆

𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑖'𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ♡ ˚₊‧⁺

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠

𝑡𝑖𝑝 🎀 ෆ self love is respecting yourself ෆ self love is setting boundaries ෆ self love is not skipping meals ෆ self love is standing firm on your beliefs ෆ self love is being kind to yourself ෆ self love is listening to what your body needs ෆ self love is prioritizing your mental health ෆ self love is embracing your physical “flaws” because it’s a part of you and makes you who you are ෆ self love is leaving people and situations that drain you ෆ self love is saying “no” to situations you’re not comfortable with even if it hurts someone else’s feelings

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍

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..

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 🖤“I could never swallow your false ideals🖤 🖤Of a lifeless happy ending🖤 🖤Another day here, Another memory dies.”🖤 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

‘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.

˚ . ✧　　 ˚ 　 　　 . ✧　　 　　 ˚ 　　　 . ✧　 sending you as many good vibes as virtually possible ✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️

I hate when websites ask "are you human?" ... no, I'm a vacuum. August 7th, 2012, 6:14 AM

Thank You You know, I’ve really grown attached to you. All this time I’ve spent with you has really made me feel a special connection to you. I mean, that doesn’t surprise you now, does it? You gave me shelter, fed me, and you’ve always been there for me. I honestly do not know how I could ever truly express my gratitude towards you. You’ve been so good to me, and I hope you know that I could not be any more grateful. I just wanted you to know that tonight, I’ll be bearing my - no, our - children, all 15,000 of them. They’ll be a reminder of the special connection we’ve shared these past few weeks; I just hope that you, or maybe your friends or family, will share the same connection with our children. From the bottom of my heart, thank you very much for being such a good host.

@KarmaticIrony • 3y ago • Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In fact some processes are probably running in the background. Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/

𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 ꔫ ·˚⊹ ♡ i'm always calm, grounded and relaxed ♡ all my clothes are soft, comfortable and have my desired scent ♡ my clothes always smell like baby powder and vanilla and have a very mild, comfortable scent ♡ wool and clothing tags don't bother me ♡ i have plenty of time to rest and enjoy my own company, and engage in my special interests ♡ it's easy for me to find pretty clothes that fit my sensory needs ♡ i have access to accommodations, like noise cancelling headphones, which are incredibly helpful, and cute stim toys, like mildly scented squishies ♡ i'm always warm, cozy and comfortable ♡ i have a formal diagnosis and can afford therapy ♡ i love my therapist, she's extremely helpful ♡ people around me are incredibly understanding and perform acts of service in order to make things more accessible to me ♡ i'm safe and cared for ♡ everyone i meet is extremely understanding and open to learn more about autism ♡ it's easy for me to make friends ♡ i'm immune to sensory overload, shutdowns, meltdowns and autistic burnout ♡ i love being who i am ♡ it's easy for me to learn new things ♡ i easily have access to my safe items and safe foods ♡ my life is soft and cozy, like being in the stardew valley and animal crossing universe

𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙞𝙩! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡!. 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙡𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬, 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙖 “𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 !” 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮! 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝘿𝙊 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛! 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙊𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙠𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛! 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡? 𝙄𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝘽𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙚! 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙝ar𝙙𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝘽𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙚!!! 𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰!, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago RVKony Join The Blind Child "Stãbbing." Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went. The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered. Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops. My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying. One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?" I did. Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school. The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water. Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me: "He was…my partner…my soulmate." While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room. "Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?" She hesitated. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy." My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant. Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said. My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child— I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter. My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked. He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape." That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?" The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered: "Poisoning."

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.

Guerrero de Dios KMApok "¿Si Dios existe, ¿por qué hay tanto mal en el mundo?" Es una pregunta común, pero está fuera de lugar. Todas las cosas deben tener equilibrio. Luz y oscuridad. Bien y mal. Sonido y silencio. Sin uno, el otro no puede existir. "¿Entonces, si eso es cierto, Dios NO HACE NADA para luchar contra el mal?" Esa podría ser tu siguiente pregunta. Por supuesto que lucha contra el mal. Implacablemente. Yo soy Dartalian, uno de sus ángeles más santos y justos. Recorro la Tierra, eliminando el mal dondequiera que lo encuentre. Mato a los monstruos de los que nunca quieres saber. Los aplasto por completo para que puedas dormir por la noche. Ustedes, los humanos, no tienen idea de cuántos de ustedes viven gracias al trabajo que hago. "¿Pero qué pasa con Stalin? ¿Hîtler? ¿Ted Bundy? ¿Jack el Destripador?" Bueno, esos son los menores que tuve que dejar vivir. Por equilibrio. Los que destruyo son... demasiado horribles y viles para sobrevivir. Lo curioso es que, aunque apostaría a que nunca has oído el nombre Dartalian en ningún texto religioso, apuesto a que has oído hablar de mí. Los estadounidenses, por ejemplo, tienen su propio nombre para mí. Síndrome de Muerte Súbita del Lactante

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.”

There's No Reason to Be Afraid By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster ~ When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

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Alphonse "At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'"

𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟏𝟒𝟒𝟑𝟐𝟑𝟒𝟐𝟓: 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

A Curious Warning • March 6 2015 • RusticEyesore Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately. Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door. "What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming." I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation: The note had come from under the closet door.

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.

C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago hyperobscura 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽? 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’ 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚗𝚍? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 ...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸? 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 “It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face. They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye. “Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.

Go to tinyhorribles r/tinyhorribles 5 days ago therealdocturner Silence Is Violence The alley is dark. I see my breath in the frigid air. My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either side. It’s narrow. The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from the bricks of the alley as I walk past them. The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over. The alley is go̕ne. Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people yelling. I smell soap. I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I run into the dark̵. God, help me. There are lights in front of me. I move forward. I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted. Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman Numerals are carved into their foreheads. My chest exploded in paın. My hometown is go̶ne. Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. My shirt is open. I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children with accusatory eyes surround me on the street. They’re pointing, at me. The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in agøny. Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons and I feel my own spit running down my neck. POP POP POP Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine. Two days later. My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and thankful I pulled through. She stays until I make her go home. My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the children that I saw. I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother. I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. He’s got to turn himself in. He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.

r/shortscarystories 24 days ago GuyAwks Forget Me Anniversary Not What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary? And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary. I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction. Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up. So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago. But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came. By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed. “Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me. I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. “Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.” Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim. “Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!” “He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.” “Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?” To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?

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..

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.

r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?

r/shortscarystories 1 mo. ago Haunting-Buyer8532 All of our children keep dy1ng. This all started when our first child, Amy, was born. She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that. She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed. Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories? I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”. I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one. My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her… I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed. I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children. I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent. Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter. Just like I did with Amy and Elise.

Skin Deep On Monday she looked beautiful, her skin silky smooth and sleek. Then on Tuesday she was saddened by the pimple on her cheek. Wednesday was a nightmare, the awful blemish grew and grew. On Thursday people stopped and stared; it seemed like everybody knew. Friday left her scrambling, finding cover-up that matched. And early Saturday morning…..it hatched.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐒! ♡︎ 𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆. 🎀 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒐𝒏𝒆: 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕. 🎀 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒕𝒘𝒐: 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆: 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆. 🎀 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒉. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡ in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡ in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡ in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡ in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡ in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ﾟ｡

𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝐽𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 what are 3 things i want to accomplish this week? what are 3 ways i can improve from last week? what can i let go of this week? what drained my energy last week? how can i prevent that from happening this week? list 3 things i’m grateful for my affirmation for this week is?

r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 days ago Old_Lady_In_Titanic Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship. Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 hr. ago jesth857 I Watched As My Son Slowly Turned Blue After Tasting My Food From DoorDash Will they ever stop trying to poison me?

ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ ᶜᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱᔆ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱᵗ ᵘˢᵉʳ ᶻᵉⁿʳʸʰᵃᵒ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᶠᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍˡᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵃʳᵃᵇˡʸ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿʸⁱᵉˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡᵉ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ⸴" ˢʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵈⁱˢˢⁱᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʸᵉᵃʳ; ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ‧

January 15th, 2013, 1:58 PM I have a bad habit of laughing at inappropriate moments.

Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ /sʜᴏʀᴛsᴄᴀʀʏsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs GᴜʏAᴡᴋs Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ “Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!” Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs. “Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.” “Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.” Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. “Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…” “Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ- ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ. “Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs. Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ. “Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!” Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ. “Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.

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.”

To who ever is reading this; you’re lovely. Absolutely lovely. A perfect creation. You have so much potential and can achieve so much. Really, you are. So live your life the way it feel right, dream big dreams, and live passionately. Aug 19th, 2019

stop trying so hard for people who don't care Feb 18th, 2018