Deathpunk Emojis & Text

Troy Leon Gregg was the first man to have his death penalty upheld by the Supreme Court after the decision of Furman v. Georgia, but he didn’t die in prison. Troy Leon Gregg, The Man Who Escaped Death Row Only To Be Murdered The Same Night

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago masiakasaurus On the last day I told my double, "only one of us be coming out alive." And I tied his umbilical cord around his neck.

https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror

https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

horror story (plural horror stories) (fiction) A fictional narrative of distressing events. The film is based on a horror story by Edgar Allan Poe. (informal) A disturbing rumour. ▼ We've heard horror stories about people being attacked in the elevator. An unpleasant experience. ▼ It was more of a horror story than a vacation. Translations Chinese Mandarin: 恐怖故事 (kǒngbù gùshì) Dutch: horrorverhaal (nl) n Finnish: kauhutarina (fi) French: histoire d’horreur f, histoire d’épouvante f Hungarian: horrortörténet Spanish: historia de terror, historia de miedo f Swedish: skräckhistoria (sv) Uyghur: قورقۇنچلۇق ھېكايە‎ (qorqunchluq hëkaye) ghost story (plural ghost stories) A story about ghosts or the supernatural, often meant to be frightening. quotations ▲ 2012, Andrew Martin, Underground Overground: A passenger's history of the Tube, Profile Books, →ISBN, page 261: There are the books full of Underground ghost stories. An invisible runner pounds along the platforms at Elephant & Castle; children scream in the basement of what used to be the surface building of Hyde Park Corner, [...] Translations ▲±story about ghosts Catalan: història de fantasmes f Chinese: Mandarin: 鬼故事 (guǐgùshì) Finnish: kummitusjuttu French: histoire de fantômes f German: Gespenstergeschichte (de) f Hungarian: kísértethistória (hu) Irish: scéal taibhsí m Italian: racconto dell'orrore m Korean: 괴담 (goedam) Norwegian: spøkelsesfortelling Portuguese: história de fantasmas f Spanish: historia de fantasmas f, cuento de fantasmas m Swedish: spökhistoria (sv) Welsh: stori fwgan f, stori ysbryd f

People may like horror for many different reasons. Personification of non-human's, perspective, etc. There's some considerate guidelines to take in-to account. Of course, horror's meant to be scary, but not to frightening as to cause panic attack. Trigger warnings may give away the ending or some plot twist. Here are some tips: ~Profanity. Can say like 'oh dear' or something. ~Gore, avoiding unnecessary graphic detail. ~Animals. Can be something like 'the dog growls at presence of ghost' ~Self harm, etc. You can, however, have a character sacrifice oneself. ~Abuse (like exploitation, arranged marriage) although you can imply abduct, poison, etc. ~Stereotyping groups (portraying certain authorities, religions, cultures, etc. as disrespectful) You can use (with discretion) controversial topics (execution, foeticide, the double effect, etc.) lightly. You can mention potential topics (cannibal, baby death, poisons, apocalypse, etc.) in story insofar as it partains to the plot, but no glorifying trauma. You can have the narrator be the villain, victim, or bystander. Have fun writing, and heed your emotions!

----- Any stories involving triggering subjects must have a trigger warning -In addition stories, roleplay or jokes that include the mention of abusing Insensitive profiles are not allowed, this includes Nazi/ ww2 aesthetics that glorifies Ww2 and any profiles that glorify terrible points in history will not be tolerated including racism, harassment, etc. -In addition to this the use of slurs are not allowed Please respect and follow the rules, we want to keep the community nice!

https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

“Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.” —Alice in Wonderland.

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

→ мσяηιηg ιѕ α gσσ∂ тιмє тσ яємємвєя αℓℓ тнє ѕωєєт тнιηgѕ αη∂ αℓℓ ѕωєєт ρєяѕσηѕ ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ѕσ ωαкє υρ ωιтн уσυя уσυя ∂яєαмѕ gσσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнαηк уσυ ƒσя ωαкιηg мє υρ. α ωαям gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, αƒтєя ѕωєєт ∂яєαмѕ σƒ ℓαѕт ηιgнт. ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ ∂αу ωιтн gσσ∂ мσяηιηg:) → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓ αη∂ яє-υηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη υя єуєѕ яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωє’яє ησт тσσ ¢ℓσѕє ιη ∂ιѕтαη¢є. ωє’яє ησт тσσ ηєαя ιη мιℓєѕ. вυт тєχт ¢αη ѕтιℓℓ тσυ¢н συя нєαятѕ αη∂ тнσυgнтѕ ¢αη вяιηg υѕ ѕмιℓєѕ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яιѕє ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ я ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωη &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяєιη∂ → αℓℓ ∂ α¢нιєνємєηтѕ ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ я мα∂є ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нα∂ ∂ ¢συяαgє тσ ησт тσ ℓιѕтєη тσ ∂ ¢яσω∂.. вυт.. ∂σ ωαт тнєу ƒєℓт ωαѕ яιgнт?? тнιηк!! gυ∂ мσяηιηg!! → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓαη∂ яєυηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη уσυя єує яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє υ α вυя∂єη υ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ υ ƒιη∂ υяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ιт αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт-gσ∂ тнιηкѕ υ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → αвσνє тнє ∂αяк нσяιzση ѕσση ηєω ℓιgнт яαуѕ ωιℓ αρρєαя. тнєу ѕιgηιƒу тσ αℓℓ тнє ωσяℓ∂ α ƒяєѕн ηєω ∂αу ιѕ нєяє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg: → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αℓωαуѕ ωєℓ¢σмє α ηєω ∂αу ωιтн α”ѕмιℓє”ση уσυя ℓιρѕ, “ℓσνє”ιη уσυя “нєαят” &αмρ; “gσσ∂ тнσυgнтѕ”ιη уσυя “мιη∂” &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ нανє α ωση∂єяƒυℓ ∂αу → α вιя∂ тнαт уσυ ѕєт ƒяєє мαу вє ¢αυgнт αgαιη, вυт α ωσя∂ тнαт єѕ¢αρєѕ уσυя ℓιρѕ ωιℓℓ ησт яєтυяη … ѕσ тнιηк вєƒσяє уσυ ℓєαρ g σ.σ ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂ → σηє ∂αу мση∂αу ωєηт тσтυєѕ∂αу тσ ѕєє ωє∂ηєѕ∂αу αη∂ αѕк тнυяѕ∂αу ωнєαтнєя ƒя∂αу нαѕ тσℓ∂ ѕαтυя∂αу тнαт ѕυη∂αу ιѕ α ƒυη ∂αу....gσσ∂ мσяηιηg... → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ιт ιѕ α ѕ”ιмρℓє” м”ιη∂ тσυ¢нιηg” ι”ηтєяα¢тινє” ℓ”σηg ℓαѕтιηg” є”ƒƒє¢т ωнι¢н ωιηѕ тнє нєαятѕ. уєѕ.. ιтѕ уσυя “ѕωєєт ѕмιℓє” ѕσ кєєρ ѕмιℓιηg αℓωαуѕ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → α ∂αу мαу ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт α мєѕѕαgє ƒяσм мє, вυт вєℓιєνє мє ιт ωση\'т ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт мє тнιηкιηg σƒ υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → gєт υρ ƒяσм уσυя ѕσƒту ѕσƒту вє∂… σρєη уσυя… тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ… ωαѕн уσυя ριηку ѕнιηку ƒα¢є… вє¢αυѕє… ѕσмє σηє ωαηтѕ тσ ωιѕн уσυ… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мσяηιηg νσι¢єѕ υк: нι ∂єαя υѕα:gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ¢нιηα мєнσω נαραη:ѕнαηнσω ιтαℓу:мαηι¢нι ιη∂ια:ηαмαѕтαу ƒяαη¢є:ѕαη¢нαу ιη∂ια: υтн вαιgнαяαт, ѕυвαн к 8 вαנ gαує нαιη → (g)яαρєѕ (σ)яαηgє ѕαρ(σ)тα (∂)αтєѕ (м)αηgσ ρ(σ)мєgяαηαтє ѕт(я)αωвєяяу ωαтєя-мєℓσ(η) ρ(ι)ηєαρρℓє вα(η)αηα (g)υανα нανє α ƒяυιту ∂αу.. → нι,ησω ι αм ¢σмιηg тσ мєєт υ… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕυη ℓιgнт… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕωєєт вяєєzє… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ gσσ∂ ωιѕнєѕ… נυѕт тσ ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂єαя ¢υѕтσмєя, уσυя яємαιηιηg ѕℓєєριηg тιмє нαѕ єχριяє∂. ѕσ ρℓєαѕє ℓєανє уσυя вє∂ αη∂ gєт υρ. αη∂ ѕαу т0 αℓℓ g00∂ м0яηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу !!! → ησ мαη ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ яι¢н єησυgн тσ вυу нιѕ σωη ραѕт. єηנσу єα¢н мσмєηт вєƒσяє ιт gєтѕ вєуση∂ яєα¢н. нανє gσσ∂ ∂αу! → ωяαρ α яαιηвσω σƒ נσу ιη уσυ нєαят, ℓєт тнє ѕυη ραιηт α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, яємσνє αℓℓ ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ σƒ ∂συвт &αмρ; ƒєαя αη∂ яє¢єινє gσ∂’ѕ gιƒт σƒ ℓιƒє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ѕ ℓιgнт. мαу уσυ нανє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу αℓωαуѕ..!! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє уσυ α вυя∂єη, уσυ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ уσυ ƒιη∂ уσυяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ¢нαℓℓєηgє αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт. gσ∂ тнιηкѕ уσυ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ѕιℓєηт ιη мσυтн мαу ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ.. вυт.. ѕмιℓє ιη мσυтн мαу ѕσℓνє αℓℓ тнє ρяσвℓємѕ.. ѕσ αℓωαуѕ нανє α ѕωєєт, ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє… ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ ηι¢є ∂αу. → ωнαтєνєя ιѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя ιѕ мєαηιηgƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя gινєѕ уσυ нαρριηєѕѕ мαу αℓℓ тнαт вє уσυя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω &αмρ; ƒσяєνєя , gσö∂ мσяηιηg → αη ι∂єαℓ ∂αу ѕнσυℓ∂ вєgιη ωιтн α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє уαωη ση уσυя ƒα¢є, α ¢υρ σƒ ¢σƒƒєє ιη уσυя нαη∂ &αмρ; α ѕмѕ ƒяσм мє ση уσυя мσвιℓє?! нανє α gяєαт ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ѕιмρℓє мυѕι¢ ¢αη мαкє уσυ ѕιηg, α ѕιмρℓє нυg ¢αη мαкє уσυ ƒєєℓ вєттєя, ѕιмρℓє тнιηgѕ ¢αη мαкє уσυ нαρρу. нσρє му ѕιмρℓє нι…!!! ωιℓℓ мαкє уσυ ѕмιℓє …gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ωιтн α gяєαт ℓιgнт σƒ ѕυη ωιтн тнє ѕσηgѕ σƒ вιя∂ѕ ωιтн тнє gяєαт αzααη σƒ мαѕנι∂ ωιтн тнє qυяααη ωιтн тнє нαρριηєѕѕ ωιтн α gяєαт ѕмιℓє αη∂ ωιтн тнє мσяηιηg ρяαуєя нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → мσяηιηg вєαυту ωιтн ¢σσℓ αη∂ ѕσƒт вяєєzє αяє яємιη∂єяѕ тнαт αℓℓαн ℓσνєѕ уσυ. ѕσ уσυ ѕнσυℓ∂ єηנσу тнє ∂αу αη∂ мαкє уσυ ∂αу α мємσяαвℓє αη∂ ℓσναвℓє ∂αу! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg”:-* → ∂σηт яєα∂ ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу яєα∂ σηℓу ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу, в’¢σz, ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу уσυ gєт ηєω ι∂єα тσ ωιη, ƒяσм ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу уσυ gєт σηℓу мєѕѕαgє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ υ → ¢нєєяƒυℓ ρєσρℓє αяє ℓιкє ѕυηℓιgнт. тнєу ѕнιηє ιη тσ тнє ¢σяηєяѕ σƒ тнє нєαят &αмρ; σƒƒєя вяιgнт мσяηιηgѕ &αмρ; ƒяєѕн нσρєѕ. **gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** тσ σηє ѕυ¢н ρєяѕση… → нι тσ ѕωєєт ρєяѕση ωнσ ραѕѕє∂ ѕωєєт ηιgнт ωιтн α ѕωєєт ∂яєαм, ησω ωαηт тσ ραѕѕ ѕωєєт ∂αу ωιтн ѕωєєт тαℓк, нανє α ѕωєєт ∂αу, нανє α ѕωєєт мσяηιηg!!! → “тнє мιηυтє уσυ тнιηк σƒ gινιηg υρ αηу яєℓαтιση, тнιηк σƒ тнє яєαѕση ωну уσυ нєℓ∂ ιт ѕσ ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ησω ѕυη ιѕ нαρρу αη∂ мσση ιѕ υρѕєт вє¢αυѕє мσση ιѕ мιѕѕιηg уσυ αη∂ ѕυη ιѕ ωιтн уσυ нανє α gяєαт αη∂ ℓσνєℓу ∂αу → нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ ησт ѕσмєтнιηg υ ρσѕтρσηє 4 тнє ƒυтυяє. ιт’’ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg υ ∂єѕιgη 4 тнє ρяєѕєηт. мαкє єα¢н мσмєηт α нαρρу σηє. ι נυѕт ∂ι∂ ιт ву яємємвєяιηg υ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg &αмρ; нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → g-gєт υρ σ-σρєη уσυя єуєѕ σ-συт σƒ уσυя вє∂ ∂-∂αу нαѕ яιѕєη м-мєяяу ℓιƒє σ-σℓ∂ ∂яєαмѕ ¢σмє тяυє я-яιѕє αη∂ ѕнιηє η-ηєω ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι-ι∂єαѕ σƒ ℓιƒє η-ηι¢є ƒυтυяє g-gσσ∂∂αу 4 υ! → αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт ѕαуιηg “тнє ∂яєαм ιѕ ησт ωнαт уσυ ѕєє ιη ѕℓєєρ, ∂яєαм ιѕ тнє тнιηg ωнι¢н ∂σєѕ ησт ℓєт уσυ ѕℓєєρ.” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мαηу ρєσρℓє яєαℓιzє тнєιя нєαят’ѕ ∂єѕιяєѕ ℓαтє ιη ℓιƒє ¢σηтιηυє ℓєαяηιηg ηєνєя ѕтσρ ѕтяινιηg &αмρ; кєєρ уσυя ¢υяισѕιту ѕнαяρ &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ ηєνєя вє¢σмє тσσ σℓ∂ тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιƒє ~ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ~ → єνєяу ѕυηѕєт gινєѕ υѕ, σηє ∂αу ℓєѕѕ тσ ℓινє! вυт єνєяу ѕυηяιѕє gινє υѕ, σηє ∂αу мσяє тσ нσρє! ѕσ, нσρє ƒσя тнє вєѕт. gσσ∂ ∂αу &αмρ; gσσ∂ ℓυ¢к! Posted by Kiran Bele at 05:55

Sunday 7 October 2012 gσσ∂ мσяηιηg sms gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → нєу ѕℓєєριηg вιя∂! ¢σмє вα¢к ƒяσм тнє ∂яєαмѕ ηєω ∂αу нαѕ вєєη ѕтαятє∂ ωєℓ¢σмє тσ αησтнєя ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕυη gℓσωѕ ƒσя α ∂αу, ¢αη∂ℓє ƒσя αη нσυя, мαт¢нѕтι¢к ƒσя α мιηυтє, вυт α gσσ∂ ∂αу ¢αη gℓσω ƒσяєνєя, ѕσ ѕтαят υя ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…! → мαу уσυ вєgιη тнιѕ ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, αη∂ ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя уσυя ѕσυℓ тσ ємвяα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ℓσνє → єνєяу ηєω ∂αу ιѕ α ηєω ¢нαρтєя σƒ ℓιƒє вяιηgιηg ηєω тσρι¢ѕ ηєω мσмєηтѕ ƒσя ℓιƒє ι ωιѕн тσ∂αу αℓℓ тнє gσσ∂ мσмєηтѕ αρρяσα¢н ωαу тσ мαкє уσυя ∂αу נσуƒυℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ησ ѕнα∂σωѕ тσ ∂єρяєѕѕ υ, σηℓу נσуѕ тσ ѕυяяσυη∂ υ, ƒяιєη∂ѕ тσ ℓυν υ, αη∂ gσ∂ нιмѕєℓƒ тσ вℓєѕѕ υ. тнєѕє я му ωιѕнєѕ ƒσя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω & єνєяу∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…!! → кησ¢к!!!кησ¢к!!! мαу ι ¢σмє ιηтσ υя ωσяℓ∂???ι вяιηg ησ ƒℓσωєяѕ,ησ ¢αкєѕ,вυт ωιѕнєѕ тσ кєєρ υ ƒяєѕн,ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ нєαℓтну,αη∂ ℓσνє тσ кєєρ υ ѕмιℓιηg...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg “נυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “мυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ƒιяѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ησтнιηg тσ ωιѕн” “ησтнιηg 2 ѕαу” “”αℓωαуѕ вє нαρρу” “ιтѕ му ρяαу” “нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу:-) → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, ¢υz ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕтєѕт ƒяιєη∂.ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу → α ѕρє¢ιαℓ вяєαкƒαѕт 4 υ ιη тнє нσтєℓ σƒ му нєαят α вσυℓ σƒ ℓσνє α ѕρσση σƒ ¢ÄяÉ мєηυ ιѕ ƒяη∂ѕнιρ ραу тнє вιℓℓ ву υя ¢υтє ѕмιℓє. =g= υ= ∂= м=σ=я=η=ι=η=g → нєℓℓσ, ωαкєυρ, яє¢єινє му ѕιмρℓє gιƒт σƒ \'gσσ∂ мσяηιηg\' ωяαρρє∂ ωιтн ѕιη¢єяιту, тιє∂ ωιтн ¢αяє αη∂ ѕєαℓє∂ ωιтн α ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ ѕαƒє αη∂ нαρρу αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg! тαкє ¢αяє! → мσяηιηg ¢σσℓηєѕѕ, яιѕιηg ѕυη, ѕιηgιηg вιя∂ѕ, мєℓтιηg ∂єω, αℓσηg ωιтн тнιѕ ℓιттℓє нєαят ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу gℓσяισυѕ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη нαѕ ση¢є вяσυgнт вяιgнтηєѕѕ тσ єαятн! ℓαzу вσηє. ιт\'ѕ тιмє 2 ωαкє υρ g∂ мσяηιηg... → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ єνєяу ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg тнιѕ уєαя. ¢ℓσѕє уσυя єуєѕ, тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн, σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є, ƒєєℓ уσυя нєαят вєαт &αмρ; ѕαу… нєяє ι αм σн ℓσя∂, ємвяα¢є мє &αмρ; вє му ѕтяєηgтн тσ∂αу!!! → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυυυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α вєαя gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → αη нσηєѕт ѕмιℓє ƒяσм α ѕмιℓιηg нєαят, ¢яσѕѕιηg мαηу кιℓσмєтєяѕ, нαѕ נυѕт яєα¢нє∂ тσ уσυя ιηвσχ, ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу нαρρу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → єαяℓу тнιѕ мσяηιηg gσ∂ gανє мє 3 вαѕкєтѕ σƒ ƒяυιтѕ - ℓσνє + нαρριηєѕѕ + ρєα¢є σƒ мιη∂ αη∂ тσℓ∂ мє 2 ѕнαяє тнєм ωιтн ρρℓ ∂єαя 2 мє. ι\'м ѕнαяιηg αℓℓ ωιтн υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → αℓℓ мσяηιηgѕ αяє ℓιкє ραιηтιηgѕ:- уσυ ηєє∂ α ℓιттℓє ιηѕριяαтιση тσ gєт gσιηg, α ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє тσ вяιgнтєη υρ &αмρ; ѕмѕ ƒяσм ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ¢αяєѕ тσ ¢σℓσя уσυя ∂αу…gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…..нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя,ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω.ι ωιѕн υ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → α мσяηιηg ιѕ α ωση∂єяƒυℓ вℓєѕѕιηg, єιтнєя ¢ℓσυ∂у σя ѕυηηу. ιт ѕтαη∂ѕ ƒσя нσρє, gινιηg υѕ αησтнєя ѕтαят σƒ ωнαт ωє ¢αℓℓ ℓιƒє. нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ωαкє υρ &αмρ; ωιηк тнσѕє тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ. ѕтяєт¢н тнσѕє ιηzу ωιηηу вσηєѕ, ωєαя тнαт נσℓℓу ωιηηιηg ѕмιℓє &αмρ; тєℓℓ уσυяѕєℓƒ тσ∂αу ιѕ α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…, → ρℓєαѕє нανє α ¢σƒƒєє σƒ ωαям ѕмѕ ωιтн ѕυgαя σƒ ѕωєєт ωιѕнєѕ ρяєραяє∂ ѕρє¢ιαℓℓу ƒσя уσυ αт тнιѕ ¢σℓ∂ мσяηιηg ƒяσм мє. ηєνєя мιη∂ ιƒ ѕυgαя ιѕ ℓιттℓє, в¢σz ι’νє ρяєραяє∂ ιт ƒσя тнє 1ѕт тιмє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яαιѕє∂ ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωηιηg &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тяєαт єνєяуσηє ωιтн ρσℓιтєηєѕѕ,єνєη тнσѕє ωнσ αяє яυ∂є тσ υ.....ησт вє¢αυѕє тнєу αяє ησт ηι¢є,вυт в¢σz υ αяє ηι¢є....!!!**gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** → м-αкє тнє мσѕт σƒ ιт. σ-ρєη уσυя нєαят αη∂ мιη∂. я-ємємвєя тσ тнαηк gσ∂. η-єνєя ƒяσωη ι-мαgιηє мє η-σтнιηg тσ ωσяяу. g-σσ∂ мσяηιηg! ωιѕн уσυ нανє ηι¢є ∂αу &αмρ; σƒ ¢συяѕє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ηєω мσяηιηg+ ηєω αιм+ ηєω α¢нιєνємєηт + υя ∂є∂ι¢αтιση + ¢σммιтмєηт=ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ...נυѕт ∂σ ιт αη∂ ωιη ιт gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, вє¢αυѕє ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂. ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу. → мσяηιηg gяєєтιηgѕ ∂σєѕη’т σηℓу мєαη ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, ιт нαѕ αѕιℓєηт мєѕѕαgє ѕαуιηg: ι яємємвєя уσυ ωнєη ι ωαкє υρ! нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! → α ѕнιηιηg αηgєℓ ѕтαη∂ѕ вєѕι∂є уσυя ѕιℓку вє∂ ¢αℓℓιηg уσυя ηι¢є ηαмє ѕσ ѕσƒтℓу тняσωιηg ƒℓσωєяѕ ση уσυ αη∂ ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → αℓωαуѕ αѕк gσ∂ тσ gινє уσυ ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє,ησт ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕιяє.уσυя ∂єѕιяєѕ мαу вє ƒєω вυт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє α ℓσт.... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ι ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → ι тнιηк υ я νєяу ¢αяєℓєѕѕ! υ ¢σмє &αмρ; ℓєανє тнιηgѕ вєнιη∂! ѕєє ησω ωнαт υ нαν ℓєƒт! υ נυѕт ¢αмє ιη му мιη∂ &αмρ; ℓєƒт α ѕмιℓє ση му ƒα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂яєαмѕ нαѕ ¢σмє тяυє. тнє ℓιттℓє ¢υтє вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg ƒσя уσυ. тнє яαуѕ σƒ ѕυη αяє тσυ¢нιηg уσυя вєαυтιƒυℓ єуєѕ αη∂ ∂ιѕтυявιηg уσυ ƒσя ωιѕнιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ηєω ∂αу ηєω вℓєѕѕιηg.∂ση”т ℓєт уєѕтєя∂αу”ѕ ƒαιℓυяєѕ яυιη тнє вєαυту σƒ тσ∂αу,вє¢αυѕє єα¢н ∂αу нαѕ ιтѕ σωη ρяσмιѕє σƒ ℓσνє,נσу,ƒσяgινєηєѕѕ….. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ι ωιѕн gσ∂ мα∂є мє α ѕмѕ, ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αη яєα¢н уσυ ιη 5 ѕє¢, ¢σѕт υ ησтнιηg, υ\'ℓℓ яєα∂ мє &αмρ; ι ¢υ∂ ¢ υ ѕмιℓιηg ωнι¢н ιѕ ωσятн α мιℓℓιση 4мє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ α ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg.. 1- σρєη уσυя єуєѕ. 2- тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн. 3- ѕмιℓє α вιт. 4- σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є. 5- ѕαу, “ιтѕ тσσ єαяℓу. ℓєтѕ ѕℓєєρ αgαιη.” → вєƒσяє ƒα¢ιηg α ηєω ∂αу, вσω уσυя нєα∂ &αмρ; ѕαу тнιѕ ρяαуєя: “тнαηк уσυ gσ∂ ƒσя тнιѕ αмαzιηgℓу ∂αѕнιηg ѕєη∂єя. мαу нιѕ ѕмαятηєѕѕ ιηѕριяє мє αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg!! → тнє ѕмιℓє ιѕ ℓιкє α ѕιм¢αя∂ αη∂ ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓιкє α ¢єℓℓρнσηє,ωнєηєνєя уσυ ιηѕєят тнє ѕιм¢αя∂ σƒ α ѕмιℓє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу ιѕ α¢тιναтє∂...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ∂я’ѕ ρяєѕ¢яιρтιση ƒσя тσ∂αу.α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє ƒσя вяєαкƒαѕт. мσяє ℓαυgн ƒσя ℓυη¢н,ℓσтѕ σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя ∂ιηηєя,∂я”ѕ ƒєє… ωнσℓє ∂αу тнιηк σƒ мє….gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂σ уσυ кησω тнє мєαηιηg σƒ мσяηιηg.? мσяηιηg мєαηѕ: σηє мσяє ιηηιηg gινєη ву тнє gσ∂ тσ ρℓαу αη∂ ωιη. ѕσ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕιℓєη¢є ιѕ тнє вєѕт ωαу тσ кєєρ αωαу ƒяσм ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ρσωєяƒυℓ тσσℓ тσ ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕσ нανє α ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє αℓωαуѕ..gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → вєтωєєη 100000 уєѕтєя∂αуѕ &αмρ; 100000 тσмσяяσωѕ, тнєяє ιѕ σηℓу σηє тσ∂αу αη∂ ι ωσυℓ∂ ησт ℓєт тнιѕ ραѕѕ ωιтнσυт ѕαуιηg тнαηкѕ ƒσя вєιηg ѕυ¢н α ℓσνєℓу ƒяιєη∂… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg………….. → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ тнє ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт. мαу єνєяу∂αу ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт ιη уσυя ωнσℓє ℓιƒє.αмєєη.! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg“

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.

‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...

I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him

“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer

r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 yr. ago Lightuke After tucking my son into bed he says "check under it for monsters under my bed" I found my son hiding under it whimpering "Daddy, there's someone on my bed..."

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

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."

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/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.

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage I'm a murder the one who killed my wife. He's just blubbering, perhaps a way of pleading, for his life... Perhaps if he spoke to me to reason, it might've ended differently. Perhaps I might've spared instead of murder if he only could talk out of it. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was only just born moments ago.

I NEED SOME BREAD AND CEREAL TOO June 7, 2017 @hellofinah You get a phone call from your Mum. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken... After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. Cashier makes an odd remark to you: “you know, we’re in no danger of a milk shortage...” Once arriving at mum's home, you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In some bags, the chicken and milk have gone stale. You call out for mum, but no reply. You make your way through the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her detached head neatly resting on her lap, is mum. Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. “It’s not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into series of repetitive behaviour” he says. You think to yourself, “They can’t be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?” Suddenly your cell phone goes off. “Hello?” “Hi hun, it’s me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too.” “No problem, mum; I’ll be right over…”

‘First Words‘ by alatus_corruptrix Any day now, she’ll say her first words. My wife and I have been playfully betting on what she’ll say first – ‘Mamá’ or ‘Daddy.’ I can hear my wife crooning over and over while she feeds her ‘Mama’s little girl! Mamá loves you so much!’ Sometimes, she’s not even subtle about it – ‘Say ‘Mamá!’ Come on! ‘Mamá!” I don’t mind it though. I still believe I’ll win. When we first brought her home, she would scream and cry and nothing my wife would say could calm her down. Ours must be a daddy’s girl. I sit her in her chair and my wife and I begin babbling like chickens – ‘Mamá!’ ‘Daddy!’ ‘Say Mamá!’ ‘Who’s daddy’s baby?’ I pull the gag from our little girl’s mouth. “P-please… what do you want from me? Please, let me go…” My wife’s smile falls from her face. With a heavy heart, I put the gag back in as the girl starts to scream. I take her back and dispose of her. When I return, I find my wife crying. “It’s ok, honey,” I tell her; “the next one will be better, I promise.”

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

The Vanishing Hitch-Hiker Author: Jan Harold Brunvand This next eerie story is about a man driving home late in the night when he spots a girl asking for a hitchhike. The pretty girl is dressed in a beautiful white dress. The man offers her a ride and they strike up an interesting conversation. He drops the girl at her home. Next day, while driving for work he notices that the girl by accident has forgotten her sweater in his car. He drives towards her home to hand over the sweater. An old lady opens the door when he rings the bell. He narrates the incident which occurred last night and gives the sweater to the lady. The lady refuses to accept it, saying he is mistaken. The man is surprised and questions the lady again. He is dumbstruck and left in an unsettling situation when the lady says her daughter died in a car accident a couple of years ago.

As I played in the basement, Mother called me upstairs. From behind me, She whispered, ‘Don’t go up there.’ — CheckeredBag

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?

avoid writing about- ~animals ~unnecessary detail ~certain groups -in such stories

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.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.

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..

🌅ⲯ﹍︿﹍︿﹍ 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ﹍ⲯ﹍ⲯ﹍︿﹍☼🌄

☆˚₊‧꒰ა👁໒꒱ ‧₊˚☆ ꧁༒☬𝕭𝖊 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉☬༒꧂

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago CalebVanPoneisen While tidying up my girlfriend’s apartment I found a purple diary labelled “Boyfriends Whom Dare to Look”. Unable to resist the temptation my heart raced, at the sight of names and dates marked with red but before I could fully process it's meaning, a voice be- hind me chuckled “It’s time to break up,” as a sharp object pierced my back.

“I woke up in a joyful mood and went to my mirror with a smile on my face; only, my reflection wasn’t smiling back at me.” -Aubrey Lichtfield

“I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I stood in- front of the mirror, there was no one staring back at me.” -Lucas Smelser

Mother Warned Me Mother always warned me not to cross the street. Mother warned me about those types of things. She said bad men would kidnap me, take me away. I guess she was right, in a way. I crossed one day, because I was never a good child, and several men came out and picked me up and asked me many questions. I don’t know why she never wanted me to cross the street. All the men wore blue and had badges. I don’t know why they put silver bracelets on Mother. I don’t know why Mother attempted to bite one of them. I don’t know a lot of things, I suppose. And years later, I’ll never know why she made me call her Mother.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago netflixandskill my son was reported missing last week they found him but it's not my son

I thought telling the genie “I want to live forever” But the universe went dark 3 billion years ago by douggold11

The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.

░░║║╔╗╔╗╔╗╗╔░░╔═════╗░ ░░╠╣╠╣╠╝╠╝╚╣░░║░║░║░║░ ░╔╗╗╔╔╗╦╗╔╗╗╔░║░░░░░║░ ░╚╗║║║║║║╠╣╚╣░║╚═══╝║░ ░╚╝╚╝╝╝╩╝╝╚╚╝░╚═════╝░ HAPPY SUNDAY

I destroy the monsters you don’t ever want to know about. by KMApok 'Why is there bad in the world?' It’s a common question, but it is misplaced. Light and dark. Without one, the other cannot exist. I roam the Earth, disposing of the bad wherever I find it. I destroy the ones you don’t even want to know about. I eliminate them completely so you can sleep at night. You people have no idea how many of you live because of the suffocating work I do. 'What about criminals, Mussolini, Adolph...' Well, those are the 'minor' ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I suffocatingly destroy are too horrible and vile to even speak of... You see, I would wager you never have heard of me, specifically in any religious texts. Still I bet you have known of me. Some, for example, have their own name for me: SID's short for what you might call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago mydadsnameisharold "Yes, the blood means you're a woman now." Too groggy to make sense of the pain between his legs, he managed to ask, "... what did you just do to me?"

I Begged You “Please, I am literally begging you,” I warn, but the executioner only sighs and gives me a truly sorrowful look... The chaplain sits beside me. “Once he pushes the button, death will come soon after,” he explains, even though I have heard it so many times before already. “Any final words?” “Just, again, I tell you, begging you not to do this,” I say. clean conscience. That’s the thing, though; I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my The chaplain nods sadly, sorrowful that I do not face my executioner with a clean conscience. That’s the thing, though. I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my entire life. I don’t know why, but whenever I would accidentally hurt myself others near me would receive the wound. I once got a paper cut in class that caused the three people around me to bleed from their fingers. In high school, I was in a car accident, and even though my side of the car was hit, my girlfriend developed a broken leg. I’m always very careful. I take care of myself, trying to stay in the very best of health. But when I was mugged by that trio and he shot me in the face, theirs exploded, not mine. And when the cops came, they found me kneeling by their bodies, trying to figure out what to do and stupidly holding their gun. Around thirty seconds after the execution started, I see both the executioner and chaplain fall to the floor with a hard thump. “I begged you,” I repeat sadly. —stellarpath

Practice Makes Perfect by reddit user whiteddit "You're not even trying. Again!" My calloused hands dance across the music. A finger slips and the tune groans. "Your father would be ashamed. Again!" My blurred vision falls from the yellowed sheet music to the keys. I miss another note. "Faster. Again!" I stumble once more as the tempo increases. She rises from the bench. "Absolutely worthless. You're done for today." I hang my head in shame. I know what's coming. The floorboards creak as Mother returns from the kitchen. I wince. It's hard enough to play with three fingers. It'll be even harder with two.

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago MintClicker Moments before the tragedy At 3, she jumped off the bed. At 7, she unbuckled her seat belt. At 12, she went to a sleepover at a friend's house. At 17, she finally received her driver's license. At 26, she said yes. At 30, she went into labor. At 39, she had one last hurrah. At 46, she signed the papers to make it final. At 55, he was diagnosed and had no one to share the news with. At 61, she celebrated her remission with a night out. At 22, she looked at herself in the mirror. At 87, surrounded by her family and friends, she smiled. There are moments before every tragedy, quick flashes of boredom or happiness, of the expected and unexpected. These moments I see. The little girl jumping off her parents bed and into an unresponsive final state. Another girl attending her first sleepover, excited and giddy, only to succumb to an unknowing fatal nut allergy. The young woman whose proposal near the shoreline was poorly thought-out, never allowing her to live to see her marriage. The older woman who finally divorced the man she came to loathe, and for that man to not take the finality of it all with dignity or peace. The man whose diagnosis was terminal. The woman whose 40th birthday ended in heartache and disaster. The girl whose last glimpse in the mirror was of herself, relieved, then raising the pistol to her temple. These moments, as innocuous as they seem, are the final looks to life before tragedy ultimately hits. And I watch them. I have to. It's my responsibility to take you all from this realm to the next. It's my duty. And I am sorry; I truly am. Because now? At this moment, they read the final sentences of a story. Some bored. Some happy. Some expecting this ending; some not. And I watch as they read these last words, fully oblivious as they are, that this, this is their moment.

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago kaoru-aeli They pointed at me, laughing and calling me "four-eyes". They weren't laughing after I decided to revealed 82 more.

no- ~pets ~unnecessary detail ~crims -in said stories

avoid- ~losing animals ~excessive detail ~inaccurate portrayal of certain people ~making fun of groups

❞𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓯 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻.❞ - 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓭

Avoid~ -profanity -animal loss -stereotyping -ignorance

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage She's gone, all because of him. Dead. He killed my wife. She'd still be here, if it's not for him. If only he could speak with reason; I could’ve let him live long enough to explain. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was born just a few minutes ago...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago HoardofAngryQuokkas It's happening again - I must wash away all this blood; silently, I creep out to the kitchen like I've been doing for the past three years, spending hours in the moonlight scrubbing out every speck of evidence. I know my dad and brothers think I'm some late bloomer, but I just don't want to freeze to death out in the menstrual hut like mum did.

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?

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.

Sunday, April 1, 2012 I ωιℓℓ ∂ιє вυт му ℓσνє ηєνєя Iт ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ тσωαя∂ѕ тσ уσυ............ Oηє яєqυєѕт ηєνєя ¢яу ƒσя мє ωнєη ι ωιℓℓ ∂ιє Oηє ωιѕн ∂ση'т ƒσяgєт мє αƒтєя му ∂єαтн Oηє ƒα¢т ι ¢αη'т ѕтσρ мιѕѕιηg уσυ υηтιℓ му αℓινє ♥ ♥ Kalaiyarasan G at 12:16 PM

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago Turds_Unlimited Ten armed men entered my home! Wait, there were two of them...

https://pase.ac.uk/jsp/pdb?dosp=OPEN&st=SOURCE&ft=SOURCE&value=-1&level=4&cs=A

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 yr. ago normancrane I learnt my mum and dad were both proudly pro-choice parents. That's why, as I fatally strangled them with my umbilical cord, they must have respect my choice to not have parents.

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago myymyy Rollercoaster "Mooooom, I don't like it. I want to get off!" I was a bit surprised. He had always been so brave. I was way more afraid than him when we got on. I never liked to be so high up from the ground. "This will be so much fun!", he had said when we were parking the car. I had kinda hoped he would be strong for both of us. "Oh honey, I'm sorry but we can't get off now, the ride has already started. But remember the small rollercoaster, in the park we went to when you were little? With the funny clown? This is just like that, only bigger. And remember how AWESOME it was?" My son looked at me with watery eyes. He had been so excited about this. I tried to swallow my own nervousness and keep talking to calm him down. My voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to put on a smile. "It's okay, it's okay. You might feel a bit funny in your stomach. It's because of the speed and the changes in the force that pushes you. It's normal! Listen, do you hear? Other people are scared too." He looked at me with his kind, blue eyes and nodded. Just barely. I wanted to hug him, but my back was pressing to the seat so heavily I couldn't move enough. So was his. My eyes caught a glimpse of the sun over my sons head. The sky was so bright. I tried to ignore the metallic clanging sound and people screaming somewhere that seemed to be so far away. Oh, how I missed the ground. Then I felt a big drop on my stomach. We were going faster and faster. My son started sobbing and I tightened my grib on his hand. I thought that he would become such a handsome man someday. He would end up having a good life, and marry a nice girl - or a guy, who knows? I didn't care as long as he was happy. That's all I wanted. For him to be happy and not scared. "Hey, you know what? Close your eyes. This will be over soon. I'm here. I'm not letting go." Someone behind us started to scream. I felt my blood run cold. I tried to keep my focus on the one thing that mattered: my sons hand and my calm voice that kept telling him that it was all going to be okay. Oh, he would become such a handsome man someday. But at this moment he was just a 6 year old boy on his first flight, going to surprise his grandparents all the way across the country. And the last thing I saw before I closed my own eyes, was the second engine on fire...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 days ago ChungusMcFunkopop My wife grabbed my arm tightly, and said "whatever you hear on the other side of that door, DO NOT open it". My wife's voice coming from the other side is yelling "HONEY IT'S NOT REALLY ME IN THERE - GET OUT NOW"

r/shortscarystories 13 hr. ago S_G_Woodhouse I think I'm losing my head I was driving home after a long day at work. I blinked, and the next thing I knew, I was at home having dinner with my wife and 2 daughters. "What's wrong honey" she asked me. "I don't know. I just feel like I've forgotten something" I replied, confused. Forgot something? It was much worse than that, I had no memory of going home. I reassured her and spent the rest of the evening as normal, re-watching one of my favorite movies. Eventually, I dozed off. I dreamt strange things. I saw myself, having a picnic with my parents. Except they weren't smiling and happy like I remembered them. Instead, they were sitting on the picnic blanket, staring into space, their faces closed and expressionless. No matter how much I shouted at them in my daze, I couldn't see any life left in them; it was as if they were there, without being there. Detached. I woke up in my bed, alone. I looked all over the house, but not only was my wife gone, so were my children. My cell phone line was dead, no service. I went outside to get my car and drive to work, thinking I'd try to call my wife a little later. There was no one on the road but me. It was as if the whole Earth had emptied out. I'd dismissed my detachment last night, but I was seriously beginning to wonder if I was losing my mind. I was lost. I decided to go to my work to see if anyone was still in town, if a national evacuation drill was underway and could explain everything. Once there, I rushed back into the building, hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on. And when I opened the door, I was relieved to see that all my colleagues were there. At last, I could find out what was going on. I walked over to a colleague who over the years had become my best friend. "Hey, what's going on? My family's disappeared and there's nobody left in town," I asked him. He didn't answer. I stepped forward to face him, and discovered to my horror that his face and expression were detached exactly the same as my parents' in my dream. It couldn't be, was I trapped in a nightmare? I tried to talk to everyone, but they were all in the same state. My head hurt, my eyes hurt. I saw lights, and sounds filled my ears even though there was nothing here. Nothing alive. My vision began to narrow. Sounds began to blend together. Blackness. Emptiness. And finally, words I didn't have time to understand came to me for the last time. "The driver is dead, his head was torn off by the impact."

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?

“So if you really are responsible for those unsolved kidnappings,” started the skeptical amateur reporter, “how do you lure your victims?” “With an interview.” by MintClicker

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 min. ago AcrobaticTransition4 “My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...

July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀ 🚩⠀ One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀ ⠀ Both brothers were 17 when they died.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago MatchaEmerald71 I stare at the moon, basking in it's beauty. As I stare I can't help but wonder if the humans figured out what the moon really is yet.

👻|🤍|👻 🤍|👻|🤍 👻|🤍|👻

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

The Cork Constitution, 22 November 1886 DEATH FROM ACCIDENTAL POISONING. ————— On Saturday Mr. Coroner Blake and a jury held an inquest at 4, York road, Blackpool, on a child named Timothy Donovan, aged 6½ years (the son of a cattle dealer), who had been accidentally poisoned. . . .

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 40 min. ago derf_vader "Hello Darkness my old friend..." I sang the familiar lyrics as I passed by the dark alley. "I've come to greet you at the end," the Darkness sang back softly creeping, as it enveloped me in the sounds of silence...

ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you fool? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss.

Cachy the Poodle, Marta Espina, Edith Solá, Anonymous man 21 October 1988 A poodle named Cachy, in Caballito, Buenos Aires, fell 13 storeys and hit 75-year old Marta Espina, ending both lives instantly. In the course of events, 46-year old Edith Solá came to see the incident, and was fatally hit by a bus. An unidentified man who witnessed her death had a heart attack and also dies on his way to the hospital.

Swim at Your Own Risk In 1985, a guest at a pool party found after he drowned in the deep end of the pool. The party was for lifeguards who were celebrating a season without any drownings. ✨ Victim at Lifeguards' Party Jerome Moody was found on the bottom at the deep end of a department pool as the party ended. Mr. Moody, who was 31 years old, was not a lifeguard, but four lifeguards were on duty at the party.

𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 17 year old boy as rn whilst riding his moped... That is tragic enough as an event but it was further reported that he was exactly a year after his 17 year old brother was riding the same moped on the same street, by the same taxi, with the same driver, carrying the same passenger. Both were reported to have collided with a taxi driven by Willard Manders. According to their father, John Henry Ebbin Sr. of Woodlawn Road, Sandys, even the passenger in the taxi was the same in both instances.

Nancye Lorraine Carr .1942 – 17 Jan 1950 Daughter of Roger and Mavis GIRL FATALLY INJURED Nancy Lorraine Carr, 7, of Kingston Street, Camperdown, was fatally injured when she was knocked down by a car in Trafalgar Street, Stanmore, during afternoon. She was playing with other children in the street. She ran out from behind a parked car and was knocked down by another car. Central District Ambulance took her lo the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, where she past soon after admission. The Sydney Morning Herald, Wednesday 18 January 1950 Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia BURIAL Rookwood Catholic Cemeteries and Crematoria Plot info: Catholic Mortuary. Sect M2. Area 15. Row 30. Grave 2681

The Portraits (a.k.a. The Cabin in the Woods) Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / April 20, 2009 / 1 minute of reading There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage... April 20, 2009 / Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / anonymously authored, cabins, camping, creepypasta classics, forests, hunters, mysteries, sites, twist endings, woods / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell in to a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had not portraits, only windows.

r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago sp00kyscary They're just so darn cute I love being a 2nd grade teacher. The kids in my class are so cute and innocent. They're at the perfect age. I used to teach sixth grade, but I quickly realised how that it was a mistake, whence cliques form, the bullying flourishes, and kids learnt how to be terrible to each other. By then, they're corrupted by bad role models, no respect for authority and no desire to learn. No; 2nd grade children are far better! The parents are still making an attempt to shield them from the harshness of the world. They look at me with wide eyes, eager to learn, taking in all I share with them. My favourite day, is Valentine's Day. They make little paper packets they place on their desks to be filled with cards and/or candy. This year, I baked some delicious cookies at home and I arrived early to deliver one to each student. I’m so excited to see the reactions. I smile all morning. I smile as the kids arrive, dressed in red and pink. I smile as they happily tear into their construction paper holders to see what's inside. I smile as they give me an adorable thank-you once they see the cookies I've made them. I smile as they bite into them. And I smile as they one by one fall to the ground, shaking and turning blue. After all, they're at such a cute age. It would be a shame to let them grow up.

December 13, 1977, Evansville Aces players, coaches, supporters and flight crew boarded a chartered DC-3 plane to travel to Murfreesboro for a game against Middle Tennessee. Just one minute after taking off, at 7:22 p.m. crashed, tragically taking the lives of everyone onboard. The only member of the Purple Aces who did not die in the crash was 18-year-old freshman David Furr; he was out for the season with some infirmary and thus was not on the plane that day. Lucky break? Well… Davis Lee Furr, weeks after the plane crash, and his younger brother Byron were killed in a car accident near Newton, Illinois, leaving the entire 1977 Evansville team dead.

July 10 death of little Anton Bear. The 6-year-old boy, his mother and his 3-year-old sister were walking down a road on the edge of the town, about 600 miles southwest of Anchorage when a grizzly ambled up in the dim dawn light. 🐻 Anton Bear, 6, male July 10, 1992 near King Cove, Alaska The six-year-old, his mother, and sister were walking down a road when they were approached by a grizzly bear. The family fled, but the boy was chased down by the bear and devoured.

The King and The Pizzeria On July 28, 1900, the reigning Italian King, Umberto the First, went to a small restaurant in Monza, near Milan, for his dinner. He was waited on by the restaurant’s owner personally, and upon taking his order the pizzeria, also named Umberto, realized they shared the same name. The similarities didn’t end there, however. The two men looked very much alike, and not only that but they both shared the same birthday, March 14th. On top of that, they were also both born during the same year, 1844, and both of them were born in the town of Turin! They had both even married a lady named Margherita on the same day! The date of King Umberto’s coronation was also the date that Umberto the pizzeria had opened up his restaurant. The day after eating at the restaurant, King Umberto learned that the restaurateur had been killed in an unexplained shooting. Deeply saddened by the death of his newfound friend, the King expressed his regret during a speech to a crowd. At that moment, an anarchist by the name of Gaetano Bresci pulled out his gun and assassinated King Umberto I dead.

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.

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.”

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 .

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.

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.

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.

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..

"Today, after a 72 hour shift at the fire station, a woman ran up to me at the grocery store and gave me a hug. When I tensed up, she realized I didn't recognize her. She let go with tears of joy in her eyes and the most sincere smile and said, "On 9-11-2001, you carried me out of the World Trade Center."

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.

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.”

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.

𝐀𝐌 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐌 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬?🚿 🌞🌛 Strictly AM🚿🌞 Love my PM showers🌛🚿

Horror Confessions @Horror_Fessions "When I was 8 I would hear what seemed like a younger girl calling for me in my back yard, my mom decided to ask around to see if any young boys had the same name as I did, turns out 8 years prior, a girl and her brother with the same name as I were murdered in a courtyard behind our house."

‘Ylim3’ By IPostAtMidnight I've found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. Little Emily vanished last year. Now they’re pouring new sidewalks in my neighbourhood, and I’ve found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. But it was written in reverse. And from below.