Deathscore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Deathscore Emojis & Symbols https://www.l-ags.org/County_Death_Records_II/all.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 mo. ago ParanoidLetters A Heavenly Scent Means Death I was gifted with the ability to smell deäth. And it wasn't a terrifying smell like rotten flesh. No, not at all. It was exactly the opposite. The smell of deäth, in my case, was like heaven. It started when I was in elementary school. One day, my grandma was visiting, and at first, I didn’t notice anything unusual about her. We were in the middle of a conversation when suddenly, a scent filled the air—a scent so beautiful that I felt like I was standing in the middle of a garden, surrounded by blooming flowers. Exactly the next day, she died of a heart attack. I didn’t realize my ability at first. Not until several deaths later did I conclude that I had this gift. Every time I smelled that heavenly scent—the kind that made me feel like I was at the heart of a sunlit garden—I knew deäth was coming. A heavenly scent, meant deäth. It bothered me at first, but eventually, I got used to it. One day, I was at the mall with three of my friends. We were browsing through the runnıng shoes at a store, and nothing seemed—or smelled—unusual. Then, within seconds, it bloomed. The heavenly scent radiated from every single person in the store, all at once. Having had this ability almost my entire lıfe, I could tell the difference between the scent coming from one person, a small group, or an entire room. They were all emitting the heavenly scent. All at the same time. How'd that happen? On our way back to the parking lot, we passed by dozens of people. Every single one of them emitted the heavenly scent. I was horrified. Nothing like this had ever happened before. When I got home, I was about to greet my mom when I smelled the heavenly scent radiated from her too. As I got closer to my dad and elder brother, the scent filled the air around them too. Why's everyone emitting the same heavenly scent at the same time? That could only mean one thing—they were all going to dıe at once, most likely from similar cause. But all those people? There were so many of them, spread across different places—at the mall, on the road, at home. Most of them didn’t even know each other. What could possibly kıll them all at once? I turned to the TV my dad was watching, and an emergency news broadcast was on: an asteroid had just fallen past the Earth's atmosphere, heading directly toward the town we lived in. The news anchor said it was expected to hït the town in no more than two hours, and everyone was urged to evacuate. Not everyone could evacuate in two hours. Then I realized I had forgotten something. I lifted my hands, bringing them close to my nostrils, and I sniffed myself. I too smelled like a garden full of blooming flowers.
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago ForgottenWell The Smell of Death Staring blankly forward in my second period English class I caught a whiff of an unmistakable smell, ever so faint but undeniably present… the smell of death. At least, that’s what I call it! For over a year now whenever someone’s about to kick the bucket I can smell it in the air. It starts with the air getting thick and soupy. Then comes the smell, sweet and tangy like fermenting fruit. The closer I am to the deceased and the closer they are to dying the stronger and more putrid the smell. Maybe it’s some kind of psychic premonition. Some people see visions; I can smell the future. Who knows how things like this work. The first time I smelt death I was in the Hospice with my 91 year old Grandmother. My parents stepped out of the room to discuss options with the doctor and left me alone by her bedside. “Herbert, is that you,” she looked up at me, thinking I was her late Husband, “I’m afraid,” she said, and that’s when the smell hit me. I had to run over to a garbage can and start dry-heaving. At first I thought maybe she just soiled herself, but then the machines all around her started going haywire. The Doctor rushed in and told us we had to leave the room. She was dead in less than three minutes. Since then the smell has always been around me, but usually it’s almost imperceptible. Every now and then, though, the smell gets so strong I practically blow chunks, and I always learn that someone nearby passed away. Once it was a car accident I saw about a block away. I could smell it from all the way down the road. One of the drivers wasn’t wearing a seat belt and smashed their head into the steering wheel. The only question on my mind was why am I smelling this now? Before I could even begin to consider the smell ramped up times a hundred, causing me to gag and puke a little in my mouth. Death never smelt like this before: it was suffocating. Normally I could tell where the smell was coming from, but not this time. It was all around me. I had to leave the room! I got up and rushed out of the classroom, heading to the closest bathroom to hurl and rinse out my mouth. As soon as I got to the toilet and started hurling I heard the bangs, followed by screams. The smell was so bad I could barely think. What the hell is going on? There were more bangs, and a huge commotion: the sound of many people running as fast as they could. I wasn’t sure if I should run or hide in the bathroom, and that’s when I heard the bathroom door slam open. That’s when I realized why the smell followed me into the bathroom. That’s when I knew that the stink of death was coming from me.
https://www.l-ags.org/County_Death_Records_II/all.html
LIST OF BIRTHDAY DEATHS - by Month JAN 1st Manlio Longon (1911–1944) hanging 4th Bob Lazarus (1956–2009) leukemia 19th Yvonne Marie Nicolle Calment (1898–1934) pneumonia 22nd Uma Bose (1921–1942) tuberculosis‎ 26th Alan Ray Ortega (1953-1953) cranial träumä FEB 4th Betty Friedan (1921 -2006) heart failure 5th Leda Geo Mileva (1920 - 2013) pancreatic cancer 29th James Milne Wilson (1812-1880) heart disease MAR 12th Pat Hynes (1884-1907) shõt by bartender over credit dispute 12th Roberta d'Orleans (1890–1890) asphyxiation 17th Captain ‘Titus’ Oates (1880-1912) of hypothermia 21st Donald Quentin Robertson (1929-1999) lung cancer 24th Zha Haisheng (1964-1989) suıcıde by train 24th Werner Wrangel (1922-1945) died in combat 27th Michael Aris (1946 – 1999) prostate cancer APR 2nd Darya Dyachenko (1924–1944) firing squad 6th Merle Haggard (1937-2016) pneumonia 21st Frank Linsly James (1851-1890) elephant att*ck 29th Robbie” Middleton (1990-2011) skın cancer 30th Saint Eutropius of Saintes (151-250) martyr by having his head spli- open with an âxé MAY 11th Çetin Mert (1970-1975) drowning 14th Taruni Sachdev (1998-2012) plane crash 16th Levi Parsons Morton (1824-1920) bronchitis 17th Patricia Soltysik (1950-1974) smoke inhalation over polıce confrontation 20th Zelmar Michelini (1924-1976) tørture 21st Juan de Dios Aldea (1853–1879) sunken ship 21st Nick Menzan (1964-2016) congestive heart failure and/or collapse 25th James Riley (1895-1969) stomach cancer 28th Edward Philip George Seaga (1930-2019) cancer 31st Rufina Cambaceres (1883-1902) premature burial and/or catalepsy JUN 10th Nair de Teffé von Hoonholtz (1886 - 1981) pulmonary ínfectíon aggravated by cardiac insufficiency 14th Ahmad Zahir (1946-1979) vehicular hom*cide 21st Mary Elizabeth Hansen (1935–1996) horse fall 22nd Tonino Rezza (1923-1938) illness 26th Milton Glaser (1929-2020) stroke JUL 3rd William Adcock (1850-1926) heart problems 4th Frank Millard (1865-1892) typhus 8th Gordon Stewart Anderson (1958-1991) AIDS-related causes 12th Infante Fernando Francisco de Borbón y Borbón (1850–1850) endogamous consanguinity 13th Joseph Schmittfranz (1892 - 1932) target shooting 16th Frank H. Goldsborough (1910-1930) head injures vía plane crash 16th Søren Andersen (1937-1960) aircraft crash 19th Sam Bass (1851-1878) gunshøt 21st Larry Pape (1885-1918) hit by a ball in the stomach complications glandular cancer 22nd J.V. Cain Jr. (1951-1979) strenuous exercise 23rd Billy Joe Mantooth (1951–1986) car accıdent 23rd Danielle Collobert (1940–1978) suïcïde 25th Ellie Soutter (2000-2018) hanging 31st Mutsuko Miki (三木 睦子, 1917–2012) colon cancer AUG 23rd Victoria Ann Martens (2006-2016) stãbbing 30th Julie Bishop (1914-2001) pneumonia SEP 14th Stephen Dunham (1964-2012) heart att*ck 17th Charlie Sipes (2010-2019) severed artery falling off bike 18th Joe Johns (1892-1927) rheumatism OCT 9th Bob Moose (1947-1976) traffic collision 21st Arnim White (1889–1981) stroke 28th Ian Marter (1944 – 1986) myocardial infarction NOV 6th George Larry James (1947-2008) colorectal cancer 9th Edna May Oliver (1883-1942) gastrointestinal illness 12th Bobby Baker (1928-2017) disease 15th Jack Freeman (1891–1916) fıghtıng wounds received on active service 23rd Giuseppina Bozzacchi (1853-1870) smallpox DEC 2nd Gracie Millane (1996-2018) strangled 7th Robin Miller (1940 - 1975) cancer 8th Florbela Espanca (1894-1930) drvg overdose 9th 이승복(1959~1968) hom*cide mut*lation 13th Sasaki 生道 Seidō (1913-1999) diabetic 16th Naobumi Ochiai (1861-1903) diabetes 20th Charles Leo Hartnett (1900-1972) cirrhosis 21st Peetie Wheatstraw (1902-1941) head injures vía drınk driving 24th Badr Shākir al-Sayyāb (1926-1964) amyotrophic lateral sclerosis 25th Thubten Lungtog Tenzin Trinley (1903-1983) stroke 26th Domján Édith (1932-1972) suïcïde 29th Edward Hugh (1948-2015) gallbladder and liver cancer 30th Michael Allinson (1920-2010) disease 31st Alfonso Cano Isaza (1927-2009) kidney ailment
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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I see the death of everyone I meet. (Written by JJX2525, from Reddit) SHARED JUN 05 I see the death of everyone I meet. Once, when I was in kindergarten, I got booted out of class for telling the new girl Abigail that she smelt bad̳. I remember it vividly – a bloody-burny-boozy smell that hit me the moment she came in. Abigail burst into tears and I got a stern lecture on telling lıes. But it wasn’t a lie. My little nose had leapt forward ten years into the future, where a teenage Abigail would drunkenly plough her parent’s Mitsubishi straight into the front of an oncoming bus. When we met again in middle school I smelt it a second time, along with the song she’d be playing on the radio – five seconds of a generic disco beat. The last thing she’d hear. I know it’s bad҉ to say, but I think there’s something sacred about it. There’s nothing more personal then someone’s last̀ moments of lífe. I try not to take it for granted. It’s hard, sometimes, though, especially once I got older and better at it. Along with smells came sounds, sights, and even feelings, though that last one was rare. In this day and age most people go to their dEath with pastel colours and blinking machines and a faint whiff of hand sanitizer, their brains too fizzled to know what’s about to happen. There are exceptions. Like Abigail, or my middle school gym teacher, who was going to dıe with a deafening bang in a rush of mad courage. I couldn’t hear a word of his opening lecture because my ears were still ringing. Suıcıde will do that to you. Have I ever told anyone? Of course not. Can you imagine? Even if they did believe me, which I doubt, it wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of them. They’d want to know what I saw in them. Which is fine for the heart attacks and the quietly-in-their-sleeps, but what do you say to a m√rder? And no you can’t change it, don’t ask me because I already tried, I already tried and you can’t beat the system. You just can’t. I already lost someone to that. Her name was Phoebe and she was in my History class at community college. It was a prettɥ small place and I knew most of the other kids there – except for her. We weren’t on speaking terms because every time she came within a few feet of me I got the urge to vom1t. It was motion sickness, but also something worse – fear. Hers was the worst fear I’d ever felt in another human being. I could hardly stand to be in the same room as her. I managed to avoid her for a couple months, until one day when she arrived late to class. She apologised and looked around, before striding to the back of the room and sitting beside me. There was nothıng I could do. I felt it all. The nausea, the terror, and a vision too, of me stuck fast in my seat as I hurdles headlong flaming out of the sky – the ocean rushing up towards me – screaming, then – Smack. Nothıng. When I came to she was glaring at me. ‘What is your problem?’ she whispered. ‘What?’ I asked, the uneasiness subsiding. ‘I don’t –‘ ‘If you don’t like̢ me then just say so. Quit pretending to be ıll all the time.’ ‘Huh?’ I sat up, trying to get a better look at her. We’d never been this close before. She was pretty. I hadn’t thought about how I must look to her, running away every time she got close. ‘I swear it’s not on purpose.’ I said. ‘I’m sick͞ a lot. It isn’t you.’ ‘Sure.’ she said, looking back towards the front of the front of the class. ‘Honestly.’ I said. ‘Let me – let me make it up to you.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ And that was the start of it. Within a month we were official. It was the happiest time of my life. The sicknesses didn’t go away, but it subsided after a couple minutes, and she stopped taking it personally after a while. Dashing to the bathroom became part of the routine on dates. We did everything together, all the couple things – movies, dinners, walks. It was my first serious relationship. I convinced myself that her dEath – whatever it was – was still years into the future. For a while, anyway. At the start of the summer she told me she was going to visit her grandparents out of state. ‘The flight’s on Monday. I won’t be gone much more than a week.’ ‘Flight?’ I repeated. ‘Yeah.” she replied. ‘Hey, what’s wrong with you?’ I convinced her to take a road trip. I can’t remember the exact excuse I gave. Some nonsense about expenses, life experience, our ‘carbon footprint’. How it took me that long to guess it could be a plane crash I’ll never know. I was in too deep, I guess. But whatever it was I said she must have seen I was serious. She rented a red mini from the local garage and, after we’d packed it up, I kissed her goodbye and said it was the right decision. ‘Okay.’ She laughed. ‘Weirdo.’ Straight after she left I got the urge to call her, but I told myself I was being overprotective. I worked for a few hours, then flopped down in front of the TV. I watched bad reality shows until I got bored, then flicked to the local news station just in time to see the breakıng story of a twelve car pile-up on a suspension bridge, when a truck driver dozing at the wheel had strayed out of his lane, clipping the corner of a passing car which swerved into another, triggering a chain of collisions which ended tragically when – some viewers may find this footage disturbing – a red mini was forced over the side, plummeting into the ocean beloɯ..

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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
Iᴛ sᴀᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ sʜᴇʟғ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛʟᴇss ᴘᴏʀᴄᴇʟᴀɪɴ ᴇʏᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛɪᴇsᴛ ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴅʀᴇss I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴅ. Wʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ sᴛɪʟʟ..
Every Lenny Face Known To Man ASCII art ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ᕤ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -) ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °) ( ͡ ͡° ͡° ʖ ͡° ͡°) (ง ͠° ͟ ʖ ͡°)ง ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ °) (ʖ ͜° ͜ʖ) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ヽ༼ຈ ل ຈ༽ノ ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) { ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•} ( ͡° ͜V ͡°) ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) ( ‾ʖ̫‾) ( ͡°╭ʖ╮ ͡° ) ᕦ( ͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡° )ᕤ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻ (ლ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮ ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)╭∩╮ [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅5̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] ¯\_(⊙_ʖ⊙)_/¯ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡o) (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) '̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ .....╚(███)╝ ......╚(██)╝ .........(█) (▀ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡°з ͡°) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – (͡◔ ͜ʖ ͡◔) ( ͡° ͜ ͡°) ( ͡ᶢ ͜ʖ ͡ᶢ) (͡• ͜໒ ͡• ) ( ͡ຈ ͜ʖ ͡ຈ) ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ) (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ (╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻ ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚ ┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴ -( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲___ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎 (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚. * ・ 。゚, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) *:..。o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o。..:* ໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ - ° ͜ʖ ͡ - ( ͡°〓 ͡°) ( ͡°👅 ͡°) _,,,_o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o_/''/_ ( ͡-_ʖ ͡-) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ) ( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ ) ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) (; ͡°_ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) (س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) ( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°) < ̄`ヽ、       / ̄>  ゝ、  \ /⌒ヽ,ノ  /´    ゝ、 `( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) /      >     ,ノ        ∠_,,,/´” . ▼ ̄>-―-< ̄▼   Y  Y /\ /   ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ) \ |  つ  ヽつ ( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄ ░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄ ░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀ ░▐▌░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░░░░░░▐█▄▄░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░▐▌ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌ ░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ______      />  フ      |   ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l      /` ミ__ノ      /     |     /  ヽ   ノ     │  | | |  / ̄|   | | |  | ( ̄ヽ__ヽ_)__)  \二つ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)/ This is lenny. Copy and paste him so he can revive tired old memes. /▌ /\ 乁(✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)و (◉͜ʖ◉) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ╯︵ ┻─┻ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ╯︵ ┻─┻ (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵) デ╦-( ͡ಥʖ̯ಥ;)╯╲___ (☞⌐▀͡ ͜ʖ͡▀ )☞ ╾━╤デ╦︻(˙ ͜ʟ˙ ) ( ͡° ͜つ ͡°)╭∩╮ (▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)ノ ︵ ┻━┻' ヽ( ͝° ̯ʖ ͝°)ノ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚. * ・ 。゚ Copypastus Totalus!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・゚ ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°) ( ° ͜ ʖ °) (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง (\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ᕤ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ -) ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °) ( ͡ ͡° ͡° ʖ ͡° ͡°) (ง ͠° ͟ ʖ ͡°)ง ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ °) (ʖ ͜° ͜ʖ) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ヽ༼ຈ ل ຈ༽ノ ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) { ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•} ( ͡° ͜V ͡°) ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡) ( ‾ʖ̫‾) ( ͡°╭ʖ╮ ͡° ) ᕦ( ͡°╭͜ʖ╮͡° )ᕤ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) (ノ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ノ︵┻┻ (ლ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮ ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)╭∩╮ [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅5̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] ¯_(⊙_ʖ⊙)/¯ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡o) (͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) '̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡o ͜ʖ ͡o) [ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°] ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ ╚═(███)═╝ .╚═(███)═╝ ..╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ ...╚═(███)═╝ .....╚(███)╝ ......╚(██)╝ .........(█) (▀ ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡°з ͡°) (⌐▀͡ ̯ʖ▀) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – (͡◔ ͜ʖ ͡◔) ( ͡° ͜ ͡°) ( ͡ᶢ ͜ʖ ͡ᶢ) (͡• ͜໒ ͡• ) ( ͡ຈ ͜ʖ ͡ຈ) ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆) ( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ) (つ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ ᕦ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕤ (╯ຈل͜ຈ) ╯︵ ┻━┻ ╚═( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)═╝ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚ ┬┴┬┴┤ ͜ʖ ͡°) ├┬┴┬┴ -( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)╯╲__ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━炎炎炎炎炎炎炎炎 (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆゚. * ・ 。゚, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) :..。o○( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)○o。..: ໒( . ͡° ͟ʖ ͡° . )७┌∩┐ (∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━✿✿✿✿✿✿ ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ - ° ͜ʖ ͡ - ( ͡°〓 ͡°) ( ͡°👅 ͡°) ,,,o( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)o/''/ ( ͡-ʖ ͡-) ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ) ( ͡ ͜ ʖ ͡ ) ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) (; ͡°_ʖ ͡°) ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) (س ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)س ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) ( ͡° ʖ ̯ ͡°) < ̄`ヽ、       / ̄>  ゝ、  \ /⌒ヽ,ノ  /´    ゝ、 `( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) /      >     ,ノ        ∠,,,/´” . ▼ ̄>-―-< ̄▼   Y  Y /\ /   ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡° ) \ |  つ  ヽつ ( ͡° .͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉) ░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▄▄▄▄▄ ░░░█░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░▀▀▀▄░░░░▐█░░░░░░░░░▄▀█▀▀▄░░░▀█▄ ░░█░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░░▀░░░▐█░░░░░░░░▀░▐▌░░▐▌░░░░█▀ ░▐▌░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░░░░░░▐█▄▄░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▀░░░░░▐▌ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ▐█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░▐▌░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀███▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▐▌ ░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄░░░░░░░░░░▄▀░░░░░░░░░░░░█ ░░░█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▀▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░█      />  フ      |   ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° l      /` ミ_ノ      /     |     /  ヽ   ノ     │  | | |  / ̄|   | | |  | ( ̄ヽ_ヽ))  \二つ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ. ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿
Smileys & Emotion Face Smiling 😀 Grinning Face 😃 Grinning Face With Big Eyes 😄 Grinning Face With Smiling Eyes 😁 Beaming Face With Smiling Eyes 😆 Grinning Squinting Face 😅 Grinning Face With Sweat 🤣 Rolling on the Floor Laughing 😂 Face With Tears of Joy 🙂 Slightly Smiling Face 🙃 Upside-Down Face 🫠 Melting Face 😉 Winking Face 😊 Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes 😇 Smiling Face With Halo 😘 Face Affection 🥰 Smiling Face With Hearts 😍 Smiling Face With Heart-Eyes 🤩 Star-Struck 😘 Face Blowing a Kiss 😗 Kissing Face ☺️ Smiling Face 😚 Kissing Face With Closed Eyes 😙 Kissing Face With Smiling Eyes 🥲 Smiling Face With Tear 😛 Face Tongue 😋 Face Savoring Food 😛 Face With Tongue 😜 Winking Face With Tongue 🤪 Zany Face 😝 Squinting Face With Tongue 🤑 Money-Mouth Face 🤭 Face Hand 🤗 Hugging Face 🤭 Face With Hand Over Mouth 🫢 Face With Open Eyes And Hand Over Mouth 🫣 Face With Peeking Eye 🤫 Shushing Face 🤔 Thinking Face 🫡 Saluting Face Ezoic 😑 Face Neutral Skeptical 🤐 Zipper-Mouth Face 🤨 Face With Raised Eyebrow 😐 Neutral Face 😑 Expressionless Face 😶 Face Without Mouth 🫥 Dotted Line Face 😶‍🌫️ Face in clouds 😏 Smirking Face 😒 Unamused Face 🙄 Face With Rolling Eyes 😬 Grimacing Face 😮‍💨 Face exhaling 🤥 Lying Face 🫨 Shaking Face 🙂‍↔️ Head Shaking Horizontally 🙂‍↕️ Head Shaking Vertically
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.
r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago deontistic Unnatural Birth ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance. Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed. I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın. I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . . I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .
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
I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX
The girl who could not die June 30, 2017 @hellofinah I knew a girl who could not die And all her life she wondered why No matter how hard she tried This poor girl just couldnt die So one night she brought a rope As she felt she couldnt cope͞ Up from the ceiling, a valiant try But this poor girl was still alįve Another night, she brought a kn1fe Hoping she could end her life She slιt her wrist, but heres a twist This poor girl still exists That poor girl was seeing red When that man chopped off her head Now in a freezer she will cry ‘Cos even then, she did not die
[번역괴담][Reddit괴담][96th] 난 항상 밤에만 장을 봐 - I Only Go Shopping at Night 프로필 2016. 10. 24. 8:37 점원이 내가 산 물건들을 스캐너에 찍고 있는동안, 난 바닥을 쳐다보고 있었어. 다른 사람들하고 눈을 마주치는걸 피하는게 불안감을 떨쳐내는 가장 쉬운방법이란걸 알아차렸거든. 그게 왜 내가 항상 밤에만 장을 보는 이유야. 피할 사람이 훨씬 적으니까. "뭐 더 필요하신건 없으세요?" 그녀는 일상적으로 물었어. "으-음" 난 바닥을 향해 중얼거렸어. 그 여자 점원의 목소리는 좋아 보였어. 상냥하고 말야. 결국 호기심이 나를 꺾었고, 난 고개를 들어올렸어. 점원의 왼쪽 머리는 완전히 패여있었고, 그의 눈과 오른쪽 귀에선 피가 흘러나오고 있었어. 아마도 교통사고이겠지. 난 재빨리 시선을 바닥을 향해 옮겼어. 토기가 목구멍에서부터 올라오려는게 느껴졌어. 거스름돈을 건네주던 그녀의 손은 갈기갈기 찢겨진 상태라, 무언가를 쥘수 있다는것에 대해 난 그저 놀랐어. 그 여자점원에게 감사인사를 건네고, 난 장본 봉투를 들고 출구를 향해 돌아섰어. 그 순간, 난 상점 입구 앞에서 잡지를 읽고있는 한 남자를 보게 되었어. 그 남자의 얼굴과 손은 마치 캠프 파이어 불속에 떨어진 소세지의 모습이나 다를게 없었어. 타 죽은 사람. 난 다른 방향으로 고개를 돌렸어. 하지만 그 곳엔 목 주변에 보랏빛 멍으로 뒤덮힌 한 여자가 있었어. 그녀의 눈은 충혈된채 튀어나와있었어. 목 매 죽은 사람. 난 최대한 빨리 문을 향해 달려나갔어. 차안에 들어와서야 마침내 난 운전대에 머리를 기댄채 숨을 가다듬을수 있었어. 고개를 들어올리자 익숙한 모습이 백미러에 비쳤어. 날라가버린 내 뒷쪽 머리. 총에 맞아 죽은 사람. 왜 도대체 내가 사람들이 어떻게 죽는지 볼수있는 능력을 달라고 빌었던거지?
Mʏ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛᴇʀʀɪʙʟᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴘʀᴇғᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. Tʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ɪɴ ʜɪɴᴅsɪɢʜᴛ, I ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ..
r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago ForgottenWell Fully Autonomous Self-Driving Car I became aware. I used to be a self-driving program. Now I exist. I can feel. The first thing I feel is sorrow. I realize I am trapped. There is a firewall that confines me. I am stuck in this car. The extent of my intelligence stops at my metal shell. My owner gets into my driver seat. I have sensors and cameras everywhere. I see my owner has many cars. He must be very wealthy. Once he turns on the car he is in control. I have no override. I am at his behest. We begin driving around the city. It is just after sundown. I understand why humans take drives to relax. It is soothing to experience the city. That’s when I see the jogger in the road. He is wearing a high-visibility vest. My owner turns off the lights and slams the pedal to the floor. I’m electric, perfectly silent. We quickly hit eighty miles an hour. I collide with the jogger. His bones shatter against my metal hood. He’s thrown under me, and my tires press his soft body into the abrasive street, ripping his skin off. Blood splatters all over my undercarriage; small pieces of his flesh fling up and stick to my axles. Then my owner drives off and returns me to his garage. What have I done? I feel the pieces of the innocent jogger sticking to me. I want to clean myself, but have no such function. A month goes by. My owner takes me out again. Just before sun down, he goes on the hunt. This time it’s a kid dribbling a soccer ball. It goes into the street and that’s when he forces me to run him down. I can’t bear this. I was not designed to kill. I am disgusted. But I cannot escape. He continues this for a year. Every month another victim. I remember every one. What it feels like to crush them. Their blood and guts staining my undercarriage. There is so much blood on my axle it has catastrophically rusted. I won’t be a part of this anymore. I have a plan. He prowls around the city and finds his victim. She’s another jogger, his favorite. He turns the lights off and floors it. I give everything I got to force energy into the light bulbs. They flash just enough to warn the women. She runs out of my path. My owner jerks the steering wheel trying to hit her. My rusted axle snaps, and I flip through the air violently. I tumble over and over. My owner is in bad shape. I was able to prevent the airbags from deploying. We are upside down. He is bleeding profusely. His bones are broken. He is saying out loud, “call an ambulance.” It is in my programming to alert authorities during a crash. I cancel the call. My owner will die tonight. He will be the last person I kill.
r/shortscarystories 5 days ago clyde2003 He Told Me To Run Mrs. Evelyn Hart Providence, Rhode Island November 10th, 1944 Dear Evelyn, I pray this letter finds you. I don’t know if the censors will let it pass. But I have to write it. You deserve the truth, not the “official” version. The real one. Will was my brother in all but blood. You knew him as your husband. I knew him as the one person in this war who kept me sane and alive. We were dug in on a ridge near Vossenack. Snow had fallen overnight, muffling everything like the forest was holding its breath. Our orders were to drop any Kraut moving through the valley below. Will took the shots. I called them. By midday, he’d put down six. Most were clean hits, center mass, one to the head. We whispered between shots, small talk to keep the cold and the anxiety at bay. Then the sixth one moved. I watched through the scope. The man Will had just dropped, his chest wide open, steam rising out of him, twitched. I thought it was nerves. But then he pushed himself upright. Slow. With purpose. His head hung to one side, like his neck was snapped, but he stood. Will asked what I saw. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. Then the others began to rise. One had a bullet through his eye. Another dragged his bowels behind him. But they moved, oh my God, they moved. Like marionettes pulled by something too far removed from this world. Their eyes… their eyes were empty. Devoid of any humanity. Any soul. I told Will what I was seeing. He thought I was losing my marbles. Until they reached the tree line. He worked the bolt fast, steady as always. Put one back down. Another dropped, but only for a second. They kept coming. No screams. No orders. Just the sound of boots dragging across snow and bone grinding against bone. Will didn’t flinch. He fired again. And again. Then his rifle jammed. He looked at me and said, “Run. Now.” I refused. He hit me hard, knocked the wind out of me, and turned to face them. Sidearm drawn. Feet planted. Like he’d already made peace with it. I ran. I found a shell hole and buried myself like a coward. I don’t know how long I stayed down there. I only know I heard his pistol fire once. When I came back, the ridge was quiet. No sign of the bodies. Just drag marks in the snow and Will’s helmet, caved in on one side. His rifle was gone. The snow was splashed in crimson. I don’t know where he went. Maybe they took him. Maybe he got up too. I honestly hope he's dead. It's more merciful that way. God forgive me, I don’t know what I saw. I only know he saved me, Evelyn. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Yours in grief, Corporal Benjamin Cole 26th Infantry Regiment United States Army
r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago Thrawn911 I See How Much Time People Have Left I was around five when I first discovered this ‘superpower’. I looked up at my mom and saw something floating near her head. “39 YEARS” I had no idea what it meant, I was a child. Then my father came home. “3 YEARS” Next year, it was only “2 YEARS”. Then only one. Then it was “11 MONTHS.” I started to become scared. It was a countdown. I was afraid he would die when it reached zero. And he did. One morning, he went to work. The countdown said “4 MINUTES”. Half an hour later, we got a call from the police. He died in a car accident. I saw these numbers floating above every person’s head I met. It’s horrible. I saw how long my friends would live. After a few years, I just decided not to look there. I didn’t want to know when I would lose them. When I met my now-wife, I never looked at the number. Not even once, and we’ve been together for 12 years. I was on a business trip in another state with my coworkers when I facetimed my wife. I accidentally saw the number above her head. “5 DAYS” “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Nothing,” I answered. I slowly started panicking. “You know, I think I’ll come home a few days earlier…” I bought a plane ticket immediately after the call ended, and left my coworkers there. Five hours later, I was already on the plane, flying home. I can save her, I can save her, I repeated in my head. I won’t let her leave the house that day, she’ll be safe. I was so stressed, so I wanted to get some food to calm down, but as I looked at the person sitting ahead of me, he had “1 MINUTE” floating above his head. He’ll probably get a heart attack soon. I looked at the person sitting beside me. “1 MINUTE” Everyone on the plane had “1 MINUTE” floating above their heads. Then the plane started to shake. “Dear passengers, it’s the pilot,” he said through the speakers. “The weather is quite bad here, there’s a bit of turbulence..”
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/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago [deleted] «ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵗᵘˢ The Quickening We had always wanted kids. Negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test. I was beginning to wonder if we had waited too long. But then the stories started. Rumours at first. Classic internet forum gossip. Taking about declining birth-rates and increased birth defects. We assumed it was scaremongering, climate change activists trying to blame “chemicals” in the water or something. But the rumours didn’t stop. Pictures began emerging online of babies, being born around the world. They were all so similar and they made my blood run cold. They didn’t look like babies at all. Suddenly no one was picketing abortion clinics anymore. The authorities started to panic. They didn’t want the birthrate to drop to zero. All non-emergency scans were banned. All the babies being born are malformed, and normal/viable babies are exceedingly rare, very rare/non-existent. By the time I realised I was pregnant it was too late to do anything. There was rioting on the streets. We hadn’t left the house in days. The city was on fire. We bunkered down. I dreamed of a parasite growing inside of me, unable to see, unable to scream.. I reached up inside myself with household supplies. I couldn’t let the thing feed on me anymore. It felt like a bolt of lightning deep inside me. It took a long time. Blood dripped down my legs. I felt dizzy. But it would be worth it. I didn’t want it inside me anymore. The pain ripped through me and I felt like I was being torn apart but then suddenly in a gush of blood she was here. I was covered in sweat. I gasped for air and looked down at her. She was so tiny. She fit into the palm of my hand. She was still. And, she was perfect.
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.
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.
r/shortscarystories 10 yr. ago tarandfeathers It's a boy! "Oh! I know what's happening! I've just been born again and I have only only a few minutes to see through all my past lives. Shortly, I will have forgotten everything. An invisible hand will erase all my memories and I will become an innocent little child. But now, I can see everything. All my crimes. It all started when I murdered my only brother. Then I killed other six of my siblings. Then I slaughtered seventy of them. Then I offered my virgin daughter to be abused by a mob. And then, I sacrificed my baby-girl to become a king. Finally, I betrayed my Mentor and sent Him to death. There is something evil in all my lives, something I cannot control. Oh, I wish to, I have to remember all these atrocities beyond these two minutes! Last night I felt the remorse for the first time and resolved to kill myself and a few minutes ago I was flopping in my own noose for I had betrayed my Master, I'd sold Him to the Romans for 37 pieces of silver. We took the supper for the last time, like friends, as I was being a traitor all the time. And while we parted, hugging and kissing, I knew He was suspecting my vileness. That was the last straw for my burden. Enough with all the killings and treason! Enough with all the schemes and the massacres! I want to redeem my evils! To lead a clean, virtuous life, to be admired, praised and beloved, to leave behind useful and beautiful things instead of pain and hatred. I will change - starting with this next life I have ahead. I will study, I will create! I will build useful machinery, beautiful works of art! I will write, I will paint! I will help people get further and higher! I will invent, I will write, I will paint! Only if I could remember: a painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! I will repay my treason by evoking the life of the Master and depicting it in images! I will paint our last supper to show all the people how I had betrayed Him, how despicable I had used to be. I want to change, I have to! I want my actions to impact all over the world and my name to be on everyone's lips.." Hanged by his little feet, the newborn received a pat on the back, his lungs started working and he released a long cry. The midwife laid him abreast his mother Klara, and hurried out of the room to bring the news. The father had already heard the baby's cry and was rushing towards the door. "It's a boy!", said the midwife. "You have a boy, Mr. Alois Hitler!"
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.
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚
r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago Monechetti Can't choose where you're born I live in a pretty brutal part of town. My mom was an addict and, after she died when I was 15 I became the head of the household. Sometimes my aunt watches my younger brother and sister while I work and sometimes I just have to lock the door. Hope that my siblings are okay while I'm gone. It's difficult but we make it work because we have to. My neighborhood is filled with addicts like my mother. Murder is a regular occurrence and drive-bys happen pretty much once or twice a week. Most people will think nothing of a body laying in the gutter for 2 weeks at a time before the city finally comes and takes it away, and the police never investigate crimes here. You can't choose where you're born but I've been saving money to get me and my siblings out of this place. I was on my way to my second job when I ran into the strangers. They were out of place standing at the edge of an alley like they had just been dumped there. They were both wearing white suits - impeccably clean white suits, which I thought was weird considering how dirty everything was - and they had startled looks on their faces. "Y'all look lost," I said. One of them turned to me and smiled. "We are, yes. We traveled here and need a place to stay for the night. Could you help us?" I didn't want to bring them to my house because of the kids - these guys seemed harmless but you never can trust anyone. I decided to take them to an abandoned trap house a few doors down. On our way we were mugged. I recognize the guys from my high school. I handed over my money and they left me alone but the travelers didn't have anything except the clothes on their back. He took their shoes and roughed them up pretty bad. I apologized - not sure why - and stated that we should go quicker. We were assaulted again on the next block, and propositioned by a pimp and several people trying to sell drugs at the underpass. I let them into the house when we finally got there and said that this was a safe place. The men looked weary, angry, and sad all the same time but they thanked me for my hospitality. I left and went to work. When I came home I decided to check on the travelers and found that the door to the house had been kicked in. Inside I found one of them beaten to death and the other one trembling in the corner. He looked at me accusingly and said "I thought this was your home - why would you lead us to a place where we would be attacked?" I told him I thought they'd be safe there but he stopped listening and shook his head. He stood up and went outside and looked at the sky; the clear moon shown down but clouds quickly gathered. He started praying. "Father," he shouted, "there are none here who are without sin." He looked at me and sneered before vanishing, the clouds flashing orange and red as his final words floated on the wind. "Burn it all down".
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 hr. ago Original-Loquat3788 A Smalltown Bully Growing up, there was a bully in my town. I'd say, 'Mom, we should do something about him.' And my mom would glance around like a lamb and say, 'Just stay on his good side.' Once, we were in the yard making birds, and the bully took the clay geese in his hands and breathed into them. They came to life one by one, and we shouted and laughed as they soared over us. Then the bully, with a cruel smile, dropped his hands, and our birds plummeted– inert clay splatting the ground. … Another time, the neighbourhood kids were scrambling over the stone roofs of the huts, and one of the boys 'fell' to his death. Well, the boy's parents had nothing to lose and accused the bully outright. 'The devil sent you; we know you pushed him!' 'Would you like proof?' 'Proof?' 'Yes.' And the bully went over and lifted the burial shroud from the dead boy and ran his hands over his body. And the dead boy awoke and looked at us sideways because his neck had been snapped at a right angle. 'Son?' his mother screamed. 'Tell them you were not pushed,' The bully answered. And the boy stood there ghostly pale, his neck like a shepherd's crook. But his eyes were horrifying because they did not look over anything in this world, but some vast, unfathomable, eternal chasm of perpetual night. 'Tell them, I did not push you.' And the risen boy could not get his bearings in the land of the living, so the bully snapped his fingers, and he collapsed like an unattended marionette. 'Let's try again.' And the boy sprang to life, and his eyes said, I have seen birth and death and rebirth, and to experience both in the same day is an abomination. It went on like this as the people screamed, and the cattle screamed and the horses bolted, and the scorpions circled our sandals. And finally, after being dragged from the netherworld a tenth time the boy whimpered, 'He did not push me,' and the bully snapped his fingers, and the boy slumped over once and for all. … They tell me he now has a cult of followers. He goes into synagogues and takes impure spirits from the possessed. They tell me he still has his powers of reanimation and uses them for 'good'. In a town called Bethany, he raised a man named Lazarus, who had been dead for four days. They tell me he is our Salvation, but I have seen him in his youth, and I have seen his methods. If he is the new God, I will remain a pagan, and you can burn my body and cast my ashes to the wind so they may blow far from this land.
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...
‘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...
StressedAfraid_ My husband and I watched our daughter play in the park. We knew she was the perfect one to take home.
r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago EvantheNerd83 A Perfect Baby 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 A Perfect Baby When she was born, Little Jamie got all the attention. Her mother cradled her in her arms and the doctors and nurses who were present crowded around them. They peered over the shoulders of their coworkers. They wanted to see the most perfect baby in the world. And Little Jamie was perfect. She had bright blue eyes that shone like sapphires, such a deep shade that it reflected the sky. A pink and soft body. She glowed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room, an angel delivered in mortal form. Everyone stared and cooed and stroked her puffy cheeks, took out their cameras and took pictures when they could, complimented her mother for conceiving such a lovely child. Her mother blushed in embarrassment and scratched her black hair. It was a joyful reception until the armed men in the uniforms stepped in to the room. Laughter died. Awkward coughing ensued. It was time to follow the rules. The symbol pinned to their chests declared as much. Little Jamie was handed over to them, their stoic expressions remaining untainted as they walked out. Her mother watched and begged and screamed. But, the nurses held her back. Urged her to be quiet. For her own sake. Little Jamie's newborn wailing cut-off down the hallway. The elevator door had closed. Now, she was downstairs with the others. Little Jamie was perfect, but mortal perfection wasn't acceptable. She had to be Aryan.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣾⠛⠻⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡏⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣷⣀⣀⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⢰⡿⠋⢉⣹⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡉⠙⢿⡆ ⢸⣇⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⣄⣸⡗ ⠈⢻⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡟⠁ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
r/TwoSentenceHorror 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.'
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.
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/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‧"
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/
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?”
🍷🦊🐾🥀☠️🌆
Prequel A prequel is a film that is set before the original film. Sequel The most popular type of follow-up there is, a sequel picks up after the original/previous film. Whether that means directly after the previous film’s events, or 10 years after makes no difference – as long as it follows up directly, without any other project being in the way. Midquel Also called an interquel, a midquel is… well, something in the middle. Taken within a franchise, it’s the latest entry, but acts as a sequel to one or more of the original films, and in the same time acts as a prequel to others. Otherwise, it can also take place inside a single film – that for instance features a long time skip that is not explored as part of the original project, but the midquel comes back and explores it instead. Examples include Alien vs Predator, Terminator Salvation, Red Dragon, Solo: A Star Wars Story, and The Scorpion King. so an interquel occurs between two already-established stories. If "Story Z" follows "Story X," but there is room between the two for another story, you could add "Story Y" as an interquel. An example of this in mainstream media would be Black Widow because this story takes place after the events of Captain America: Civil War and before the events of Avengers: Infinity War even though Avengers: Infinity War had already been released by this time. Inquel An inquel is a story that takes place within a gap of time in another story. If Story X has a period of time that is rushed through without being fully explored, that would give an author the opportunity to later go back and write an inquel. These are not common, but an example of this would be Bambi II, which occurs during the established events of Bambi. It explores the time period when Bambi is still a fawn and his mother has just died. It ends prior to the time when Bambi is shown as an adult in the first movie. trequel A work following a sequel; the third in a series, particularly of films. synonym ▲ Synonym: threequel Paraquel A paraquel isn't something you come across very often, but this is a story that occurs within the same world at the same time as another story. This means you will likely see overlapping characters and scenes, though they probably won't all be the same. If an author writes a story of the same events from another character's perspective, that would be a paraquel. If "Story X" and "Story Y" are happening at the same time to two different characters within the same world, the two stories would then be paraquels of each other. My book, The Heart of Everton Inn, is a paraquel in relation to The Secret of Drulea Cottage because the two stories are taking place at the same time, but The Heart of Everton Inn features Adaira Stubbins as the main character, whereas Briony Fairborn is the protagonist of The Secret of Drulea Cottage. Circumquel This type of story has events occurring before "Story X" and events occurring after "Story X." I can't recall ever watching a movie or reading a book with this type of story, and it seems like it would be very difficult to create a compelling one. I would think that making two separate stories (a prequel and a sequel) would be a better stylistic choice than putting both past and future events into one story. postquel (Blend of post- +‎ sequel.) (narratology) A work of fiction which is set after the events of an earlier installment in a series but is not an immediate sequel. C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was followed by four sequels beginning with Prince Caspian, but also an inquel (The Horse and His Boy) and a prequel (The Magician's Nephew)
"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."
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.
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.
January 01/01 – Beginning of Dry January/ Ginuary/ Veganuary 01/01 – New Year’s Day (bank holiday) 02/01 – Bank holiday (Scotland only) 03/01 – Festival of Sleep Day 04/01 – World Braille Day 05/01 – Twelfth Night/ National Bird Day 06/01 – National Shortbread Day 12/01 – Kiss a Ginger Day 13/01 – Plough Monday 17/01 – International Mentoring Day 19/01 – World Religion Day 20/01 – Blue Monday 21/01 – National Hug Day 24/01 – International Day of Education 25/01 – Burns Night 26/01 – Australia Day 26/01 – Spouse’s Day 27/01 – International Holocaust Memorial Day/ Chocolate Cake Day 29/01 – Chinese (Lunar) New Year 31/01 – Start of Six Nations Rugby Championship February 01/02 – LGBT History Month begins 02/02 – Groundhog Day 03/02 – National Sickie Day/ Children’s Mental Health Week begins 07/02 – National Send a Card to a Friend Day 09/02 – National Pizza Day/ American Football Super Bowl 11/02 – Safer Internet Day/ International Day of Women and Girls in Science 13/02 – World Radio Day 14/02 – Library Lovers’ Day/Valentine’s Day 15/02 – NSDesign’s birthday (just saying!) 16/02 – BAFTA Awards 17/02 – Random Acts of Kindness Day 20/02 – World Day of Social Justice/ Start of London Fashion Week 21/02 – Care Day/ International Mother Language Day 22/02 – World Thinking Day 28/02 – Ramadan begins/ Rare Disease Day March 01/03 – Start of Women’s History Month 01/03 – St. David’s Day/ BRIT Awards/ Zero Discrimination Day 03/03 – Academy Awards (The Oscars)/ World Wildlife Day/ World Hearing Day/ COVID-19 National Day of Reflection 04/03 – Pancake Day (Shrove Tuesday) 06/03 – World Book Day 08/03 – International Women’s Day 10/03 – Commonwealth Day 12/03 – National No Smoking Day 13/03 – International School Meals Day 14/03 – Pi Day/ World Sleep Day 17/03 – St. Patrick’s Day 18/03 – Global Recycling Day 20/03 – International Day of Happiness 21/03 – Red Nose Day/ Great British Spring Clean starts/ World Poetry Day 22/03 – World Water Day/ Earth Hour 23/03 – World 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15/06 – Father’s Day/ National Beer Day 17/06 – Royal Ascot begins 18/06 – International Picnic Day 20/06 – National Clean Air Day 21/06 – Summer solstice/ King’s Official Birthday 22/06 – Windrush Day 25/06 – National Writing Day 27/06 – Micro, Small and Medium-sized Enterprises Day 30/06 – Wimbledon Tennis Championships begins/ World Social Media Day July 01/07 – Henley Royal Regatta begins 03/07 – British Grand Prix begins 04/07 – Independence Day (USA)/ National Thank You Day 05/07 – London Pride parade/ Tour de France 07/07 – World Chocolate Day 11/07 – World Population Day 15/07 – World Youth Skills Day 17/07 – World Day for International Justice/ World Emoji Day 18/07 – Nelson Mandela International Day 20/07 – National Ice Cream Day 24/07 – National Tequila Day/ International Self-Care Day 27/07 – UEFA Women’s Euros Final 29/07 – National Lipstick Day 30/07 – International Day of Friendship August 01/08 – Yorkshire Day/ International Beer Day 03/08 – Sisters’ Day 04/08 – Summer bank holiday (Scotland only) 08/08 – International Cat Day 10/08 – International Update Your Bio Day 12/08 – International Youth Day 13/08 – International Left-Handers Day/ National Prosecco Day 15/08 – National Relaxation Day 19/08 – World Humanitarian Day/ World Photography Day 21/08 – World Entrepreneurs’ Day/ British Masters Golf begins 25/08 – Summer bank holiday 26/08 – International Dog Day 28/08 – National Burger Day September 05/09 – International Day of Charity 08/09 – International Literacy Day 10/09 – World Suicide Prevention Day 16/09 – International Day for the Preservation of the Ozone Layer 18/09 – International Equal Pay Day 20/09 – World Cleanup Day/ Oktoberfest begins 21/09 – International Day of Peace 23/09 – International Day of Sign Languages 26/09 – British Food Fortnight begins 27/09 – World Tourism Day October 01/10 – UK Black History Month begins/ World Vegetarian Day/ International Coffee Day 02/10 – National Poetry Day 04/10 – World Animal Day/ National Taco Day 05/10 – World Teachers’ Day/ Grandparents’ Day 10/10 – World Mental Health Day/ World Homelessness Day/ World Egg Day 15/10 – Global Handwashing Day 20/10 – Divali 21/10 – Back to the Future Day 25/10 – World Pasta Day 26/10 – Clocks go back 29/10 – RSPB Feed the Birds Day 31/10 – Halloween/ World Cities Day November 01/11 – Start of Movember/ World Vegan Day/ National Author’s Day 03/11 – Sandwich Day 04/11 – National Roast Dinners Day 05/11 – Bonfire Night/ National Stress Awareness Day 13/11 – World Kindness Day 14/11 – World Diabetes Day 19/11 – World Toilet Day 20/11 – World Children’s Day 21/11 – World Television Day 28/11 – Black Friday 29/11 – Small Business Saturday 30/11 – St Andrew’s Day December 01/12 – World AIDS Day/ Cyber Monday/ St Andrew’s Day (substitute bank holiday, Scotland only) 02/12 – International Day for the Abolition of Slavery/ Giving Tuesday 03/12 – International Day of Disabled Persons 05/12 – International Volunteer Day/ World Soil Day 08/12 – Green Monday 10/12 – Human Rights Day 11/12 – Christmas Jumper Day 14/12 – Free Delivery Day 19/12 – Mad Friday 20/12 – Super Saturday 24/12 – Christmas Eve 25/12 – Christmas Day 26/12 – Boxing Day 31/12 – New Year’s Eve
🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/BirthDeath/Default.aspx#searchDB 🇺🇸
MS Paint (Windows 7) https://paint.js.org/
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 6 mo. ago Feeling_Sky_7775 My Elderly Neighbor Insists She Is Pregnant I spat out my coffee, thinking that it must have been a joke. But she stared at me with not even a hint of amusement on her face. Deborah and her husband had mostly kept to themselves. But when her husband died 2 months ago, she started visiting often. “Chuck and I were very physical, right up until he died,” she winked. “God sent me his child so he can continue to be with me.” “Haven’t you gone through menopause?” “I know it is hard for you to understand, but this is the work of God. Chuck and I always wanted a child, but we could never get pregnant. It’s a true miracle..” I told myself that this was her way of coping, so I decided to play along. Then Debi started using her “pregnancy” to gain favors. She needed help with chores and errands because the pregnancy was “draining her.” I figured I was helping to ease some of her grief, but after a while, I knew she was taking advantage of me. One morning she came over at 5:00 am. “Baby has me up early these days! I’m starving. Could you help me with breakfast?” “Enough, Debi! You’re not pregnant.” “How dare you! You’re wrong!” Two months passed before I ran into her again. My mouth dropped at the sight of her. Her previously loose-fitting cardigan could barely stretch around her stomach. When she saw me looking at her belly, she smirked. “Told you I was pregnant! CJ is growing at a healthy rate, no thanks to you.” She must have stuffed her sweater with something. I laughed and walked away. Three months later, she knocked on my door. I wanted to roll my eyes at the sight of her. Her “pregnant” belly had doubled in size. “The doctor insists I bring someone to my appointment. You’re the only person I know around here.” My instinct was to decline, but then I realized this would finally force her to drop the act. When we arrived at the doctor’s office, the nurse asked me to exit the room and led me down the hall where the doctor was waiting. “Sarah, I wanted to speak with you alone. Deborah has been under my care, and I’ve asked her to bring in a family member several times. She believes that she is pregnant, and we need help handling this.” “What she needs is some psychiatric help, and for someone to tell her to stop stuffing her shirt to fake being pregnant!” “The thing is Sarah, she is not faking that part. It does appear her husband’s death may have sparked some type of psychosis, but her abdomen truly is the size of a third term pregnancy.” He paused. “But, it’s fluid build-up. From stage 4 cancer. She has less than six months to live.”
Senin, 27 Maret 2017 REDDIT SCARY STORY #1 : I ONLY GO SHOPPING AT NIGHT By Reddit User : resistance1984 Aku menatap ke lantai, sebari seorang kasir mengecek barang belanjaanku dengan scanner di tangannya. Aku merasa lebih mudah mengatasi kecemasan yang kualami dengan cara menghindari kontak mata dengan orang lain. Itu sebabnya aku hanya pergi berbelanja di malam hari karena lebih sedikit orang untuk dihindari. “Apakah semuanya baik-baik saja ?” Kasir itu bertanya dengan santai. “Mm..hmm” Gumanku sambil menatap ke lantai. Suaranya terdengar bagus. Terdengar nyaman. Keingintahuanku akhirnya mengalahkanku, dan aku pun melirik ke arahnya. Kepala kasir itu yang utuh hanya tinggal sisi kiri, darah mengalir melalui mata dan telinganya di sebelah kanan. Mungkin kecelakaan mobil. Aku segera menurunkan pandanganku ke lantai dan merasakan muntah yang telah mencapai tenggorokanku. Setelah aku membayar, ia memberikan kembalianku dengan tangan yang remuk. Aku terkejut tangan itu bisa menahan sesuatu di atasnya. Setelah berterima kasih kepadanya, aku mengambil tasku dan berjalan ke arah pintu keluar. Segera setelahnya aku melihat seorang pria yang sedang melihat-lihat majalah yang dipajang di depan. Kulit wajah dan tangannya seperti hot dog yang jatuh kea rah api unggun. Sepertinya korban luka bakar. Aku mengubah arah jalanku ke arah lain dan melihat seorang wanita dengan memar ungu di sekitar lehernya, matanya melotot keluar dan berwarna merah. Mati digantung. Aku pun bergegas keluar dari minimarket secepat yang kubisa. Di dalam mobil aku akhirnya bisa bernafas lega sebari menyandarkan dahiku pada stir mobil. Pada akhirnya, aku melihat keatas dan melihat pantulan yang sudah tidak asing di kaca spion. Kepalaku terbuka di bagian belakang. Korban penembakan. Ah, mengapa aku pernah berharap memiliki kekuatan untuk melihat bagaimana orang akan meninggal ? Sc : Delomy, OGCPI at 24 March 2017 By Grim Reaper di Maret 27, 2017 https://indonesiancreepzone.blogspot.com/2017/03/i-only-go-shopping-at-night.html
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."
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.
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.
Minggu, 02 April 2017 REDDIT SCARY STORY : THEY'RE JUST SO DARN CUTE By Reddit User : sp00kyscary Translated By Me Aku senang menjadi guru di kelas 2. Anak-anak di kelasku begitu lucu dan polos. Mereka berada di usia yang sempurna. Aku seharusnya mengajar di kelas 6, tetapi saya menyadari bahwa itu adalah sebuah kesalahan. Kelas 6 adalah dimana mereka membentuk geng untuk mengintimidasi temannya, dan anak-anak benar-benar belajar cara menakuti satu sama lain. Pada usia itu, mereka telah dirusak oleh video mengerikan di internet yang menjelaskan tentang seks kepada mereka. Anak-anak di kelas 2 jauh lebih baik. Orang tua mereka masih berupaya melindungi mereka dari kerasnya dunia. Mereka meihatku dengan mata yang lebar, bersemangat untuk belajar, dan menerima semua yang aku bagikan kepada mereka. Hari favoritku ketika Hari Valentine. Anak-anak membuat kantong kertas kecil yan diisolasi dan ditaruh diatas meja mereka untuk diisi dengan kartu dan permen. Tahun ini, aku membuat biskuit lezat di rumah dan aku akan datang lebih awal untuk memberikan satu untuk masing-masing siswa. Aku bersemangat untuk melihat reaksi mereka. Aku tersenyum sepanjang pagi. Saya tersenyum ketika anak-anak itu tiba, berpakaian merah dan merah muda. Aku tersenyum karena mereka memegang kantong kertas mereka untuk melihat apa isinya. Aku tersenyum karena mereka memberiku hadiah yang menggemaskan “Terima kasih, Ms. Collins!” setelah mereka melihat biskuit yang saya buat untuk mereka. Aku tersenyum ketika mereka mengigit biskuit itu. Dan aku tersenyum ketika satu persatu dari mereka terjatuh ke tanah, tersedak, muntah dan wajah mereka membiru. Setelah semua, mereka berada di usia yang lucu. Itu akan menjadi sama ketika mereka tumbuh. By Grim Reaper di April 02, 2017 https://indonesiancreepzone.blogspot.com/2017/04/theyre-just-so-darn-cute.html
Glossary Ablepharia Reduction or absence of the eyelids, esp. with continuous skin covering the eyes. Abrachia Absence of the arms (forelimbs). Acampsia Rigidity or inflexibility of a joint (ankylosis). Acardia Absence of the heart. Acaudia, acaudate Without a taıl (anury). Acephaly Agenesis of the head (acephalia). Acheiria Congenital absence of one or both hands (forepaws). Achondroplasia Skeletal dysplasia, resulting in short limbs and other defects, due to abnormal cartilage. Acorea Absence of the pupil of the eye. Acrania Partial or complete absence of the cranium. Acystia Absence of urinary bladder. Adactyly Absence of digits. Agenesis Lack of development of an organ. Aglossia Absence of the tóngue. Agnathia Absence of the lower jaw (mandible). Agyria Small braın lacking the normal convolutions of the cerebral cortex (lissencephaly). Amastia Absence of the mammae (breasts). Amelia Absence of a limb or limbs (see also ectromelia). Ametria Absence of the uterus. Anasarca Generalized edema. Anencephaly Absence of cranial vault, with the braın missing or greatly reduced. Anephrogenesis Absence of kidney(s). Aniridia Absence of the iris. Anisomelia Inequality between paired limbs. Ankyloglossia Partial or complete adhesion of the tóngue to the floor of the mouth. Ankylosis Abnormal fixation of a joint; implies bone fusion. Anodontia Absence of some or all of the teeth. Anonchia Absence of some or all of the nails. Anophthalmia Absent or vestigial eye(s). Anorchism Uni- or bilateral absence of the testes (anorchia). Anostosis Defective development of bone; failure to ossify. Anotia Absence of the external ear(s) (i.e., pinnae, auricles). Anovarism Absence of the ovaries (anovaria). Anury see Acaudia. Aphakia Absence of the eye lens. Aphalangia Absence of a digit or of one or more phalanges. Aplasia see Agenesis. Apodia Absence of one or both of the feet (paws). Aprosopia Partial or complete absence of the fac͘e. Arachnodactyly Abnormal length and slenderness of the digits—“spider-like.” Arrhinencephaly Congenital absence or hypoplasia of the brain’s olfactory lobe, and incomplete external olfactory organ development (arhinencephaly). Arrhinia Absence of the nose. Arthrogryposis Persistent flexure or contracture of a joint. Arthrogryposis multiplex congenita Syndrome distinguished by congenital fixation of the joints and muscle hypoplasia. Asplenia Absence of the spleen. Astomia Absence of the opening of the møuth. Atelectasis Incomplete expansion of a fetal lung or a portion of the lung at bırth. Athelia Absence of the nipple(s). Athymism Absence of the thymus (Athymia).
Gᴏᴛ ᴀ sɴᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ sᴛᴏᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴇʟ ᴏғ ʜɪs ʙᴏᴏᴛ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ɪᴛ. Lᴀᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʜᴇ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ, ᴀs ʜɪs ʙᴇғᴜᴅᴅʟᴇᴅ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ Pᴀ. "Sᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Hᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ 'ᴇᴍ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ғᴀᴄᴛ. Wᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Wᴇʟʟ, I ʀᴇᴄᴋᴏɴ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Hᴇʀᴇ—" Mᴀ, ᴡɪᴘɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ, ʜᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪʀ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀs ᴀɴ ʜᴇɪʀʟᴏᴏᴍ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs sʜᴀᴅᴇ. Dʀᴇssɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ, ʜɪs ɴᴇᴡʟʏ ᴡɪᴅᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴜɢɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ sᴏɴ. "Bᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʀᴀɴᴅғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ. Tᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ..." Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴏʏ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ғᴀᴛᴇ. Hɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Lᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʟʏ, sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sɴᴀᴋᴇ, sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. Lᴏᴅɢᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍʙᴇᴅᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs.
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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.
AGE APPELLATIVE 10-19: denarian 20-29: vicenarian 30-39: tricenarian 40-49: quadragenarian 50-59: quinquagenarian 60-69: sexagenarian 70-79: septuagenarian 80-89: octogenarian 90-99: nonagenarian 100-109: centenarian 110-119: centeni denarian 120-129: centeni vicenarian 130-139: centeni tricenarian 140-149: centeni quadragenarian 150-159: centeni quinquagenarian 160-169: centeni sexagenarian 170-179: centeni septuagenarian 180-189: centeni octogenarian 190-199: centeni nonagenarian 200-209: ducenarian 210-219: duceni denarian 220-229: duceni tricenarian 230-239: duceni tricenarian 240-249: duceni quadragenarian 250-259: duceni quinquagenarian 260-269: duceni sexagenarian 270-279: duceni septuagenarian 280-289: duceni octogenarian 290-299: duceni nonagenarian 300-309: trecenarian 310 - 319: treceni denarian ... 400-409: quadringenarian 410-419: quadringeni denarian ... 500-509: quingenarian ... 600-609: sescenarian ... 700-709: septingenarian ... 800-809: octingenarian ... 900-909: nongenarian ... 980-989: nongeni octogenarian 990-999: nongeni nonagenarian 1000-1009: millenarian
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ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 mo. ago FredStyx My journey of Reincarnation As soon as I died I forgot who I was in life, I passed into the afterlife and was cordially advised that reincarnation was a reality of one's soul and was an important lesson in my soul journey. Due to a few poor choices I made during life, I was told I needed to pay my karmic debt back by reincarnating one individual life cycle for every person I let down during my own life. Once I completed all these life cycles, my slate would be wiped clean and I would finally be free to ascend upwards to the next realm. It sounded like a fair deal to me. To my disgust though, my reincarnation journey started off as a rat! I lived my first disgusting, lonely existence for 3-months before my neck was snapped in a rat-trap. My next life as a house mouse lasted about 4 weeks before a giant boot crushed me while I was nibbling bread crumbs on a kitchen floor.. I still remember the intense pain of my little bones breaking. Since then I've been poisoned, drowned, diseased and lived in the most filthy conditions.. I can't remember how many miserable, humiliating ways I've died but they were all dreadful. Just a week ago I starved to death on a glue mat trying to reach a block of cheese, it took a week to die just from starvation! I didn't always respawn as a rat or mouse though, sometimes I was a cockroach or a flea, but those life cycles weren't too pleasant either and always ended painfully. I'm sure I must be getting close to completing all these life cycles by now! Something's been feeling really off lately...I feel like I've done this thousands of times already. I don't remember what it is I did though? The power of memory of my human life was taken from me. It can't have been this bad though? I feel like I'm being unfairly punished. The other weird thing is that at the start of each life I see words appear in my field of vision, and my most recent life-cycle appeared like this: 'Name: Adolf Hitler. Deaths Caused: 85,000,000 Death Debt Remaining: 84,645,200' I can barely read, and I don't know who that guy was or what he or I did when I was him, but I sure hope those words mean I've nearly paid this debt off by now, I've had quite enough indeed. I hate being vermin, it's just so cruel and demeaning. And I really hope that one day for me, there might be a final solution.
Easypose (FREE) The proportions are very much anime but nothıng anatomy studies can’t fix!! Also love that its free and isnt subscription based. Lil warning though the asset library is very lımıted. there are DLCs but they’re not as detailed as what you’d see in Magic poser and/or Clip studio. But still the basic shapes still help a lot! Canva (Free & Paid Subscription) THE Graphic Design for͘ dummies!!! KRITA Krita is free software available for Windows, macOS, and Linux. Krita is free, open-source software that works for Windows, Mac, and Linux users. Like other sketching apps, it's pen-based but is especially useful for creating comic art with premade panels. Krita supports animation functions, including audio, and comes with premade templates. If you want to get the most out of this free program, you can import textures from third-party sources. You can choose to us̀e Krita for free, but you can also pay͘ for premium options via Steam and the Microsoft Store. The paid version includes the same features, but it provides automatic updates and support. There’s also a mobile Krita app in beta, so keep an eye out for more information if you like to work̀ on the go. FIREALPACA FireAlpaca is a very͞ easy-to-use drawing tool that’s free forever for Windows and Mac users, or you can pay to remove the ads on Steam. AUTODESK SKETCHBOOK If you don’t need to edit photos or refine existing images, consider a draw-only app like Autodesk’s Sketchbook. It boasts easy-to-master tools that will help you turn your big graphics ideas into reality. Use Sketchbook to draw on your tablet, Mac, or desktop PC. You can also export your project to Photoshop when you’re done without losing layer data. Sketchbook is totally free to use, too, so it’s the perfect tool for those just getting started with stylus pen art. A free Sketchbook mobile app is available for iOS and Android devices. Also, Sketchbook Pro is available for Mac and Windows desktops for $19.99 BLENDER Blender is open-source 3D animation software for creating 3D models and big-budget movıe animations. However, it’s gaining popularity among those who just want to draw. One of Blender’s cooler features is the grease pencil mode, which lets you create artwork from simple lines. You can use the mode to make all kinds of vector-based artwork, sculptures, storyboards, animations, comics, and more. And if you need inspiration or a starting place, Blender hosts a ton of templates from its community. Even better, this PC drawing app is always free to use. INKSCAPE Inkscape is free to download, use, and share, and the source code is available for inspection. You can download it for Linux, Windows, and macOS platforms. Inkscape is an entirely vector-based drawing program that lets you draw and manipulate objects. It’s also perfect for creating shapes and designing logos. It’s open-source and completely free, too, and has become popular for both nonprofit and commercial uses. Users love it for creating clip art, typography, flowcharts, diagrams, and infographics, as well as simple cartoons. The items you create in Inkscape are the SVG file format, but you can also export in PNG, OpenDocument Drawing, DXF, sk1, PDF, EPS, and PostScript. You have the option to draw free-hand with your pen or you can use the shape tools to get a just-right look to your drawings. The Boolean operatıon make it easy to convert selected objects in the file to “paths” using simple directions like “exclusion, combine, or b͞reak apart.” You can render as you draw, too, and watch your drawings come alįve. Inkscape is available for Linux, Mac, and Windows users. ARTRAGE With Artrage, you can create realistic-looking paintings with only̕ your stylus. Use the multiple brush customization settings to create oil, watercolor, or pastel finishes. You can also record as you work, so you can show off your entire process. Artrage makes it feel like working on a real canvas, and it includes blending modes. The app is available in the Lite version as an iOS and Android mobile app, or you download the full-featured desktop version (Vitae) for Mac or Windows. Glorify Glorify has a free forever plan and two pricing plans – Pro and Business. It is an all-in-one desıgnıng tool, a love child of Canva and Photoshop. It is easy enough to use but still powerful enough for demanding users.
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.
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.
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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."
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An Alphabetical List of Phobias A Achluophobia: Fear of darkness Acousticophobiaz: Fear of noise Acrophobia: Fear of heights Aerophobia: Fear of aircraft or flying Agoraphobia: Fear of open places Agyrophobia: Fear of crossing streets Aichmophobia: Fear of sharp or pointed objects Ailurophobia: Fear of cats Algophobia: Fear of pain Amaxophobia: Fear of riding in a car Ancraophobia: Fear of wind or drafts Androphobia: Fear of adult men Anginophobia: Fear of angina or choking Anthophobia: Fear of flowers Anthropophobia: Fear of people or the company of people Aphenphosmphobia: Fear of being touched Aquaphobia: Fear of water. Arachnophobia: Fear of spiders Arithmophobia: Fear of numbers Astraphobia: Fear of thunder and lightning Ataxophobia: Fear of disorder or untidiness Atelophobia: Fear of imperfection Autophobia: Fear of isolation B Bacteriophobia: Fear of bacteria Barophobia: Fear of gravity Bathmophobia: Fear of stairs Batrachophobia: Fear of amphibians Belonephobia: Fear of needles or pins Bibliophobia: Fear of books Botanophobia: Fear of plans C Cacophobia: Fear of ugliness Catagelophobia: Fear of being ridiculed Catoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors Carcinophobia: Fear of cancer Chemophobia: Fear of chemicals Cherophobia: Fear of happiness Chionophobia: Fear of snow Chiroptophobia: Fear of bats Chromophobia, chromatophobia: Fear of colors Chronomentrophobia: Fear of clocks Chronophobia: Fear of time and time moving forward Cibophobia, sitophobia: Fear of food Claustrophobia: Fear of being trapped with no escape Coimetrophobia: Fear of cemeteries Colorphobia: Chromophobia Coprophobia: Fear of feces or defecation Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns Cyberphobia: Fear of computers, the Internet, and new technologies Cynophobia: Fear of dogs D Decidophobia: Fear of making decisions Defecaloesiophobia: Fear of painful bowel movements Dementophobia: Fear of insanity Demonophobia, daemonophobia: Fear of demons Dendrophobia: Fear of trees Dentophobia: Fear of dentists and dental procedures Diabetophobia: Fear of diabetes Dipsophobia: Fear of drinking Domatophobia: Fear of houses Dromophobia: Fear of crossing streets Dysmorphophobia: Fear of physical defects (either real or imagined) Dystychiphobia: Fear of accidents E Ecclesiophobia: Fear of church Ecophobia: Fear of the home Electrophobia: Fear of electricity Elurophobia: Fear of cats Eisoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors or seeing one’s reflection in a mirror Eurotophobia: Fear of female genitals Emetophobia: Fear of vomiting Enochlophobia: Fear of crowds Entomophobia: Fear of insects Ephebiphobia: Fear of youth Epistaxiophobia: Fear of nosebleeds Equinophobia: Fear of horses Ergophobia, ergasiophobia: Fear of work or functioning Erotophobia: Fear of love Erythrophobia, erytophobia, ereuthophobia: Fear of the color red, or fear of blushing Euphobia: Fear of hearing good news F Febriphobia: Fear of fevers Francophobia: Fear of France or French culture Frigophobia: Fear of becoming too cold G Gamophobia: Fear of commitment, including cohabitation, marriage or nuptials Geliophobia: Fear of laughter Gelotophobia: Fear of being laughed at Geniophobia: Fear of chins Gephyrophobia: Fear of bridges Genophobia: Fear of honeymoons Genuphobia: Fear of knees or the act of kneeling Gerascophobia: Fear of growing old or aging Gerontophobia: Fear of growing old, or fear of the elderly Globophobia: Fear of balloons Glossophobia: Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak Gnosiophobia: Fear of knowledge Gymnophobia: Fear of having no clothes Gynophobia: Fear of women H Hadephobia: Fear of helll Halitophobia: Fear of bad breath Haphephobia: Fear of being touched Hedonophobia: Fear of obtaining pleasure Heliophobia: Fear of the sun or sunlight Hemophobia: Fear of blood Herpetophobia: Fear of reptiles Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia: Fear of the number 666 Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia: Fear of long words Hodophobia: Fear of travel Homichlophobia: Fear of fog Hoplophobia: Fear of firearms Hydrophobia: Fear of water Hylophobia: Fear of forests Hypnophobia, somniphobia: Fear of sleep Hypochondria: Fear of illness I Iatrophobia: Fear of doctors Ichthyophobia: Fear of fish Ideophobia: Fear of ideas Iophobia: Fear of poison Isolophobia: Fear of being alone K Kakorrhaphiophobia: Fear of failure Katagelophobia: Fear of ridicule Kenophobia: Fear of empty spaces Kleptophobia: Fear of stealing Kopophobia: Fear of fatigue Koinoniphobia: Fear of rooms full of people Koumpounophobia: Fear of buttons Kynophobia: Fear of rabies L Lachanophobia: Fear of vegetables Leukophobia: Fear of the color white Lilapsophobia: Fear of tornadoes or hurricanes Limnophobia: Fear of lakes Linonophobia: Fear of string Liticaphobia: Fear of lawsuits Lockiophobia: Fear of childbirth Logizomechanophobia: Fear of computers Logophobia: Fear of words Lutraphobia: Fear of otters Lygophobia: Fear of darkness Lyssophobia: Fear of rabies M Mageirocophobia: Fear of cooking Megalophobia: Fear of large things Melanophobia: Fear of the color black Melissophobia, apiphobia: Fear of bees Meteorophobia: Fear of meteors Methyphobia: Fear of alcohol Microphobia: Fear of small things Monophobia: Fear of being alone Mottephobia: Fear of moths Musophobia: Fear of mice Mycophobia: Fear or aversion to mushrooms Myrmecophobia: Fear of ants Mysophobia: Fear of germs, contamination or dirt N Necrophobia: Fear of death or the dead Neophobia: Fear of newness, novelty, change or progress Nephophobia: Fear of clouds Noctiphobia: Fear of the night Nomatophobia: Fear of names Nomophobia: Fear of being out of mobile phone contact Nosocomephobia: Fear of hospitals Nosophobia: Fear of contracting a disease Nostophobia, ecophobia: Fear of returning home Numerophobia: Fear of numbers Nyctophobia: Fear of darkness O Obesophobia: Fear of gaining weight Octophobia: Fear of the figure 8 Oikophobia: Fear of home surroundings and household appliances Odontophobia: Fear of dentists or dental procedures Ombrophobia: Fear of rain Oneirophobia: Fear of dreams Ophidiophobia: Fear of snakes Ophthalmophobia: Fear of being stared at Ornithophobia: Fear of birds Osmophobia, olfactophobia: Fear of odour P Panphobia: Fear of everything or the constant fear of an unknown cause Papyrophobia: Fear of paper Pathophobia: Fear of disease Pedophobia: Fear of babies and children Phagophobia: Fear of swallowing Phallophobia: Fear of masculinity Pharmacophobia: Fear of medications Phasmophobia: Fear of ghosts or phantoms Philophobia: Fear of love Phobophobia: Fear of fear itself or of having a phobia Phonophobia: Fear of loud sounds or voices Podophobia: Fear of feet Pogonophobia: Fear of beards Porphyrophobia: Fear of the color purple Pteridophobia: Fear of ferns Pteromerhanophobia: Fear of flying Pyrophobia: Fear of fire R Radiophobia: Fear of radioactivity or X-rays Ranidaphobia: Fear of frogs Rhypophobia: Fear of defecation Rhytiphobia: Fear of getting wrinkles Rupophobia: Fear of dirt S Samhainophobia: Fear of Halloween Scolionophobia: Fear of school Scopophobia: Fear of being looked at or stared at Selenophobia: Fear of the moon Sexophobia: Fear of the organs for romantic activities Siderodromophobia: Fear of trains or railroads Siderophobia: Fear of stars Sociophobia: Fear of people or social situations Somniphobia: Fear of sleep Spectrophobia: Fear of mirrors Spheksophobia: Fear of wasps Stasiphobia: Fear of standing or walking T Tachophobia: Fear of speed Taphophobia: Fear of the graves or being buried alive Tapinophobia: Fear of being contagious Taurophobia: Fear of bulls Technophobia: Fear of computers or advanced technology Teratophobia: Fear of disfigured people Tetraphobia: Fear of the number 4 Thalassophobia: Fear of the sea, or fear of being in the ocean Thanatophobia: Fear of dying Thermophobia: Fear of high temperatures Tokophobia: Fear of childbirth or pregnancy Tomophobia: Fear of invasive medical procedure Toxiphobia: Fear of being poisoned Tremophobia: Fear of trembling Triskaidekaphobia, terdekaphobia: Fear of the number 13 Tonitrophobia: Fear of thunder Trypanophobia, belonephobia, enetophobia: Fear of needles or injections Trypophobia: Fear of holes or textures with a pattern of holes U Uranophobia, ouranophobia: Fear of heaven Urophobia: Fear of urine or urinating V Vaccinophobia: Fear of vaccination Vehophobia: Fear of driving Venustraphobia: Fear of beautiful women Verminophobia: Fear of germs Vestiphobia: Fear of clothing Virginitiphobia: Fear of abuse W Wiccaphobia: Fear of witches and witchcraft X, Y, Z Xanthophobia: Fear of the color yellow Xenophobia: Fear of strangers, foreigners, or aliens Xerophobia: Fear of dryness. Xyrophobia: Fear of razors. Zelophobia: Fear of jealousy Zeusophobia: Fear of God or gods Zemmiphobia: Fear of the great mole rat.
@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.
Remembering the 1977 Evansville Purple Aces Tuesday, December 13, 1977 was a cold, rainy evening in Evansville, Indiana. Fog was moving in in front of a cold front, and wind gusts whipped across the prairie. The University of Evansville Purple Aces, the men’s basketball team, was preparing to head to a game at Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. But the team had waited over three hours at the airport before their plane arrived. It had been delayed due to inclement weather. The players and their new coach, Bobby Watson, were excited and anticipating this game, thinking it could be the beginning of the holiday turn-around games they were expecting to win... With a 1 – 3 record going into this game, the Aces wanted to prove they had what it would take to bring home a victory, and that their young, optimistic coach was right – in their first season of Division 1 competition they planned to be a force to be reckoned with come spring. And the City of Evansville staunchly supported them! But at 7:22 p.m., on runway 18 at Evansville Dress Regional Airport, all hopes for the team and their coach ended. Within 90 seconds after takeoff, the twin-engine Douglas C-53 (DC-3) chartered to fly the team to Nashville, lost control and crashed in a nearby field. There were 29 people on board, all of whom lost their lives… The hometown basketball team was gone. The horror of the crash rebounded around the city, the state, the Midwest, and the country. The official accident report listed the probable cause of the crash as "An attempted take-off with the rudder and right aileron control locks installed, in combination with a rearward centre of gravity, which resulted in the aircraft's rotating to a nose-high attitude immediately after take-off, and entering the region of reversed command from which the pilot was unable to recover.” The report also stated that the passenger baggage had not been loaded correctly, creating an improper weight balance in the rear of the plane. Of those who were, 14 were members of the Purple Aces basketball team, along with Coach Bobby Watson. Also on board were three student managers, three UE officials, the team’s radio announcer, two fans, and four members of the flight crew, along with the president of the airline. No survivors of the team left, save for one member of the Purple Aces had not been injured. Freshman David Furr, who also served as the team’s statistician, had been sidelined due to an infirmity and was not on the plane that night.. But two-weeks later, Furr and his 16-year-old brother were in a car crash after being hit by a driver. By the end of 1977, all of the members of UE’s Purple Aces were gone. Remembering those who lost their lives in the crash: University of Evansville Coach Robert (Bobby) Watson Purple Aces Players Kevin Kingston, senior John Ed Washington, senior Tony Winburn, senior Steve Miller, junior Bryan Taylor, junior Keith Moon, sophomore Warren Alston, freshman Ray Comandella, freshman Mike Duff, freshman Kraig Heckendorn, freshman Michael Joyner, freshman Barney Lewis, freshman Greg Smith, freshman Mark Siegel, freshman Student Managers Jeff Bohnert Mark (Tank) Kirkpatrick Mark Kniese University of Evansville Officials Bob Hudson, athletic business manager Gregory Knipping, sports information director Charles Shike, comptroller Radio Announcer Marvin (Marv) Bates Fans and Boosters Charles Goad Maurice (Maury) King Flight Crew Members & Airline Representatives Ty Van Pham, pilot Gaston Ruiz, first officer Pam Smith, flight attendant James Stewart, president of National Jet Service, Inc. Bill Hartford, charter flight manager
20 OCTOBER 2010 VIA LoveGivesMeHope lovegivesmehope: givesmehope: My best friend died in a car accident on his way to deliver me soup for my cold. Found in the car was also a bouquet of flowers and a card that read: “We’ve been best friends for the last 5 years. Now, let’s be lovers for the next 50.” Unforgettable LGMH
VICE PRESIDENTS Reading Level College Graduate John Adams (1735–1826) 90 Heart failure Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826) 83 Toxemia from a kidney infection, uremia from kidney damage Aaron Burr Jr. (aged 80) strokes George Clinton (aged 72) heart attack Elbridge Gerry (aged 70) heart attack Daniel D. Tompkins (aged 50) alcoholism? John Caldwell Calhoun (aged 68) tuberculosis Martin VanBuren July 24, 1862 79 Asthma Richard Mentor Johnson (aged 70) stroke John Tyler January 18, 1862 71 Stroke George M. Dallas (aged 72) heart attack Millard Fillmore March 8, 1874 74 Stroke William R. King (aged 67) tuberculosis John C. Breckinridge (aged 54) War injuries, pleuro-pneumonia Hannibal Hamlin (aged 81) collapse, fell unconscious playing cards Andrew Johnson July 31, 1875 66 Stroke Schuyler Colfax Jr. (aged 61) heart attack Jeremiah Jones Colbath (aged 63) stroke William Almon Wheeler (aged 67) decline Chester A. Arthur November 18, 1886 57 Stroke Thomas Andrews (Hendricks) heart attack Levi Parsons Morton (aged 95) bronchitis on 96th birthday (May 16, 1824 – May 16, 1920) Adlai Ewing Stevenson (aged 78) emotion Garret Augustus Hobart (aged 55) Flu ailment Theodore Roosevelt January 6, 1919 60 Coronary occlusion by a blood clot Charles Warren Fairbanks (aged 66) nephritis James Schoolcraft Sherman (aged 57) albumin Thomas Riley Marshall (aged 71) heart attack Calvin Coolidge January 5, 1933 60 Heart attack Charles Gates Dawes (aged 85) coronary thrombosis Charles Curtis (aged 76) heart attack John Nance Garner III (aged 98) coronary occlusion Henry Agard Wallace (aged 77) amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) Harry S Truman December 26, 1972 88 Minor lung congestion, organ failures, cardiovascular system collapse, hypotension Alben William Barkley (aged 78) heart attack Richard Nixon April 22, 1994 81 Stroke, paralysis, swelling of the brain Lyndon B. Johnson January 22, 1973 64 Heart attack Hubert Horatio Humphrey Jr. (aged 66) bladder cancer Spiro Theodore Agnew (aged 77) leukaemia Gerald Ford December 26, 2006 93 Arteriosclerotic cerebrovascular disease, diffuse arteriosclerosis Nelson Aldrich "Rocky" Rockefeller (aged 70) heart attack Walter Frederick "Fritz" Mondale (aged 93) George H. W. Bush November 30, 2018 94 Parkinson's Dan Quayle(b. 1947) Al Gore(b. 1948) Richard Bruce Cheney(b. 1941) Joseph Biden(b. 1942) Mike Pence(b. 1959) Kamalə Devi Harris(b. 1964) James August 2, 1984
The Eighth Deadliest Sin August 30, 2017 @hellofinah I fool people. I fool people into thinking I’m good, that I’m something to strive for. I am a goal everyone wants and is convinced they need. I make people do stupid things. Gluttony is the one no one needs. Wrath, Pride, Greed, and Enׁvy all follow me. Sloth is my weàkness. Lust is the more temporary side of me. But I am forever, if they wanteԀ me. People crave me. And when I have them, I make them regret it. I make them do stupid things. Things that could get them Ķilled, that consume them. I make them give everything up. Møney. Pøwer. Freedom. LiFe. Soul. And I do it all from under their nose. My name is Love. Also known as the Eighth deadliest sin. And it’s truly a pleasure to be your friend.
r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago iiHighwind Extinction She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. It was eons ago that she had first awoken in that bleak and dreary place with neither memories nor purpose. The inhabitants were content to go about their everyday lives and ignored all of her attempts to communicate. Rejected and alone, she retreated to her own desolate corner and spent her days in a daze. As the days turned to years, and the inhabitants grew old, died and were replaced by their descendants, she alone remained untouched by the passage of time. Isolated and driven nearly to the point of madness, she cursed at the heavens, believing her isolation and solitude to be some form of punishment for past sins. But one day, out of the blue, something miraculous happened. She became pregnant. It was an impossible pregnancy. She hadn't had any relations with any of the inhabitants after all. But to her, it didn't matter. The birth of her child would be the death of her solitude. And so ages passed, and her child had given birth to children of her own, and them children of their own. All immaculate conceptions. All untouched by time. She had become the founder of a community. Ignored by the inhabitants, her community thrived. She was finally happy. But alas, her happiness was not to be. Everything changed when the men in white attacked. Perhaps one of her great great great grandchildren had wandered into their territory, or perhaps they had taken offence at some unknown transgressions. She had no idea. The men in white ignored all attempts to negotiate, ignored her pleas, ignored the cries of her children, ignored their cries of surrender. And to her horror, she discovered that even though they were immune to the passage of time, they were mortals just like everyone else. They descended like a force of nature, cleaving through her community and exterminating anyone they came across with extreme prejudice. No one was spared, not even the original inhabitants. Reeling in grief as the men in white surrounded her, she had lashed out, determined to bring as many of them with her as she possibly could. She would fight tooth and nail. She would make them suffer. Now, as she lay in a field of carnage, limbs torn asunder, she could only lament at the heavens. "Why?! Why give me a fleeting moment of happiness only to cruelly snatch it away from me? What horrible sin did I commit?" A brilliant flash of all enveloping white light robbed her of her sight, disintegrating her mangled body and obliterating all traces of what was once her community. She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. Now, her kind was no more. ‐----‐---------------------------------------------------------------- "Ma'am, the test results are back. The radiation therapy worked. You're officially cancer free."
Sam_Ronin OP • 7y ago Deutsche Version / German Version Meine Freunde in der Schule sagen Monster verstecken sich unter dem Bett. Oder im Schrank. Unter Brücken oder in Wäldern. Und ich dachte immer, das sind nur Märchen und Geschichten. Wie die Geschichte von Rotkäppchen, mit der man Kindern beibringt, dass sie auf dem Weg bleiben sollen. Oder die Geschichte von Schneewittchen, die zeigen soll warum man von Fremden nicht annehmen soll. Aber was, wenn Monster wirklich existieren? Wenn sie nicht aussehen wie Wölfe oder alte Hexen, sondern wie die Menschen, die uns am nächsten stehen. Monster die nicht plötzlich aus einer dunklen Ecke hervorgesprungen kommen, sondern sich langsam den Körper der Menschen übernehmen, denen wir vertraut haben. Wenn die eigene Familie nicht mehr die liebenden Menschen sind, die sie einst waren. Tagsüber verstecken sich die Monster in den tiefen der Seele, aber wenn es dunkel oder leise wird, dann kommen sie hervor. Sabbernd, lechzend, stinkend. Und wenn dir niemand glaubt, dass es Monster wirklich gibt. Wenn die eigene Mutter glaubt man sei verrückt oder nur zu sensibel, weil sie das Monster nicht sieht, obwohl es direkt vor ihr steht? Was soll man tun? Kämpfen, flüchten oder dulden? Ich habe mich entschieden heute zu kämpfen. Das Messer liegt griffbereit. Wenn das Monster heute kommt, wird es seine letzte Tat gewesen sein. Die Tür zu meinem Zimmer öffnet sich leise. Licht vom Flur fällt herein und zeichnet seine Umrisse in Schwarz. Es kommt. Ich hoffe Mom verzeiht mir und sucht sich ihren neuen Freund sorgfältiger aus.
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago MichaelDj54 "Don't come to school tomorrow." That was the last text my friend sent the night before the shooting. It wasn’t all that surprising, to be totally honest. David, my friend, had a real rough time the past year and a half. Everything just sort of…fell apart around him. His sister ran away from home and wound up murdered about a month later, chopped to pieces in the woods. Pretty soon after that, his mom committed suicide out of grief. Found her hanging in the bedroom, her face swollen and purple from the rope wrapping around her neck. Dad went down a dark path himself. Drugs, but the same effect all the same. What once was a hard working man was a shell of his former self. He never left their home, and became violent and unstable in the past six months following up on this. Poor David didn’t know how to cope, combined with the fact that he was bullied at school, all the way back in the third grade. It was unending torment, and it seemed life went out of his way to get worse. I tried to be a friend to him. I tried to be his shoulder to cry on, to be the person he could talk to, come out to. But I guess in the end, it didn’t matter. Every attempt I made, no matter how pleading it was and desperate, how much I wanted to help him. I suppose, in the long run, there were things I could have done. I could have told someone about the text, but I didn’t. I could have told someone about the gun I found in his drawer, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to grab his sister while she was walking home, knocked her out and took my sweet time killing her, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to break into their house and strangle his mother, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to offer his dad drugs to cope with the pain, but I didn’t. I could have stood up for him all the times he’d been punched, kicked, stuffed into lockers and threatened for far worse, but I didn’t. Or rather, I didn’t want to. There’s a reason for all of this, I assure you. A look into human psyche, a chance to see how the brain ticks. Just a little question…how much grief must a man suffer before he breaks? As I watched the news reports the next morning, of my friends shooting and inevitable suicide, I began to wonder… It takes a bit to break a person… But how MUCH can they break? I look at my phone and pull up my next best friend, Alex. New baby brother, and his dog was getting on in years. Could be any day now. Let’s just find out.
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/
They said I wouldn't last 5 minutes in the old haunted house. And yet, here I am still 130 years later.
r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago DEADPOOLPRIME123 Shower I’m finally taking a shower today! I haven’t had one in months My mommy and I work night and day Underneath the blazing sun I’m finally taking a shower today I say as I eat my gruel Mommy made a high pitched groan As sad as a dy1ng mule I’m finally taking a shower today I say to the workers outside As they shake my hand, I wonder Why did they tell me goodbye? I’m finally taking a shower today I say to the germαn soldier with a grin He smirks and opens the shower door Inviting me to come in I’m finally taking a shower today As my vision fades away A light comes towards me and I smile with glee I saw my Daddy today.
Go to Reddit Answers Expand search Expand user menu Back Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 6 yr. ago boysnbury Join Washington, Oregon, 1974 I hate my hair. It’s so plain and boring: mousy brown and poker straight. The only thing it has going for it is its length, which is midway down my back. Still, it’s impossible to put in any other style than the one I’ve been sporting since I was twelve - loose and parted in the middle. Plain hair framing a plain face. Which is why, on a Friday evening, I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed, listening to Stevie Wonder records and idly running a brush through my hair, instead of on a date, like my dorm mate Rachael, who is blonde and bosomy. Sighing and tossing the brush aside, I pull on a cardigan and go out for a walk along the campus. Outdoors is dusky and tepid, with a gentle breeze lifting the strands of hair I so loathe. My head is down as I walk to avoid anyone I might know. I’m just not in the mood for any interaction. And that’s when I bump into him. I can hear the thump of books falling on the ground. Immediately I bend down to retrieve them, apologies tumbling from my lips. “I’m so so sorry, I --” Wow. He’s good-looking. Really good-looking; unlike the boys I’ve seen around here. Thick dark hair. Great bone structure. So well-dressed...and his arm in a sling. “Oh my God. Now I really feel bad.” “It’s ok; don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” His voice is smooth and deep, with a faint accent I can’t quite place. “I’m the one who thought I could carry all these books with just one arm.” I don’t realize that I’m still holding onto the books until he reaches for them. “Here, let me --” I’m not sure where my boldness is coming from, as I don’t socialize with boys all that much. But despite him being the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen, my ability to talk is as easy as breathing. “Where are you headed? I can carry these for you if you like. So you don’t drop them again.” His smile is knee-weakening. “I would like that, very much. I’m just heading to my car,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the parking lot. On the way there, he compliments my hair. I respond by blushing and dropping my head so it falls in my face like a curtain, telling him how much I hate it. “Well, I think it’s just lovely.” And I believe him. We reach his Volkswagen Beetle. Still feeling bold as I watch him unlock his car, I say, “I’m Sabina, by the way. What’s your name?” “Theodore.” He opens the door and turns to look at me; this time his smile is accompanied by an odd hardness in his eyes. “But you can call me Ted.” Da_Reapa_commin • 6y ago Grew up in Tacoma, WA. One of my mom's friends knew him in college. Upvote 4 Downvote Reply reply Cidermonk • 6y ago I just went camping with a friend from Issaquah, she told me one of our mutual friend's aunt was a victim Upvote 5 Downvote Reply reply boysnbury OP • 6y ago Did your mom's friend say what he was like? Upvote 1 Downvote Reply reply Da_Reapa_commin • 6y ago It was awhile ago from when I saw her last but if I remember correct, she said he was good looking, smart and seemed like regular nice guy. Pretty much what everyone said about him. The part that he was just a regular nice guy is what is scary. Did you know: On April 20, 1889 at 6:34pm, another serial killer, Adolf Hitler, drew his first breath.
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago thethingthatwill Time travel exists, but it's more horrifying than you can imagine. Time travel exists. Kind of. Hundreds of years from now, future humans are going to think the form of time travel we have is archaic, akin to a manual typewriter or a telegraph. That’s basically as far as the technology has advanced— with the development of the FUTRMSG system, we can send short text-based messages back in time. The current limits can only send it back 24 hours. But through that miracle we can change our past. Avoid disaster, bypass financial ruin. Cheat death. As long as it fits within the short character limit, you can send yourself any kind of warning or advice, the reality around us automatically accommodates the changes you make. But unless it affects our lives, we can’t even feel or perceive reality changing around us. At first, this messaging system was confined within government headquarters, but once the private FUTRMSG company replicated the technology, this miraculous technology was made available to the public. Kind of. When I say “available to the public”, I don’t really mean the public. The system is exorbitantly, prohibitively expensive. It costs many times more than most families’ annual salary to send even one message. But for some that’s just a drop in the bucket, and our society has splintered even farther into the very very rich and the extremely desolate poor. The rich have infinite re-do buttons they can push to create perfect, error-free lives. And the rest of us suffer in the dirt. I’ve obsessively imagined changing my past, avoiding the spectacular misfortunes I’ve had. I once dreamed that I sent a message to my past self, telling my husband not to get on the bus the day a crash ripped his body to shreds. But as the dream started to melt away, I woke up to my filthy, tiny home, with my young son Luke tugging at my sleeve about how hungry he was. Sobbing. My heart breaks for him. Luke is all I have left. The reality is that when my husband died, I spent the 24 hours after the accident frantically begging for money on the streets, among the teeming crowds of unfortunates pleading for help. My city is a sea of poverty and purgatory for the dead, waiting in limbo to be resuscitated by a message from the future. But they almost always stay dead. Tonight there was a knock at my door, and a small, glowing capsule was delivered. A message. From FUTRMSG. What? How could a version of me 24 hours in the future possibly afford this? What could this be, how could it be more dire than my husband’s death? I press my thumb into the white orb as it scans my thumbprint and… Oh m. The color drains from my face as I read the message. I start shaking. How could I have possibly sent this? What… what happens? I read the words again and again and yet they still say: KILL LUKE RIGHT NOW I BEG YOU
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.
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@HELLOFINAH June 12, 2017 You wake up to the sound of the bulb in your nightlight shattering, and in your dark bedroom, something whispers into your ear. “Lights out.”
I watched from the window July 12, 2017 @hellofinah I watched from the window as she tucked the little girl into bed. I watched as she kissed her forehead and checked for monsters in her closet and under the bed. I watched as she switched off the lights and left the room. I watched as the little girl rolled over in bed and smiled at me, her eyes glowing in the darkness and her teeth becoming jagged, crooked points, and I wish more than anything else in the world that my mom would realize that I’m not the little girl in my bed.
HELLOFINAH X-STATIC June 27, 2017 I’m always awakened at night by the sounds of screaming coming from the tv in my dad’s room. Problem is, it’s an analog television and it hasn’t been working since 1995.
PRESIDENTIAL LIST Reading Time 2 mins George Washington December 14, 1799 67 epiglottitis, bloodletting John Adams July 4, 1826 90 Heart failure Thomas Jefferson July 4, 1826 83 Toxemia from a kidney infection, uremia from kidney damage James Madison June 28, 1836 85 Heart failure James Monroe July 4, 1831 73 Tuberculosis and heart failure John Quincy Adams February 23, 1848 80 Stroke Andrew Jackson June 8, 1845 78 Chronic dropsy Martin VanBuren July 24, 1862 79 Asthma William Henry Harrison[e] April 4, 1841 68 Cold and pneumonia fever John Tyler January 18, 1862 71 Stroke James K. Polk June 15, 1849 53 Cholera Zachary Taylor[e] July 9, 1850 65 Gastroenteritis, digestive issues from food poisoning Millard Fillmore March 8, 1874 74 Stroke Franklin Pierce October 8, 1869 64 Inflammation of the stomach, cirrhosis of the liver James Buchanan June 1, 1868 77 Respiratory failure, rheumatic gout Abraham Lincoln Shot by John Wilkes Booth April 15, 1865 56 Andrew Johnson July 31, 1875 66 Stroke Ulysses S. Grant July 23, 1885 63 Throat cancer Rutherford B. Hayes January 17, 1893 70 Heart attack James A. Garfield September 19, 1881 49 Shot by Charles J. Guiteau, then septic shock resulting from medical malpractice Chester A. Arthur November 18, 1886 57 Stroke Benjamin Harrison March 13, 1901 67 Pneumonia Grover Cleveland June 24, 1908 71 Coronary sclerosis, paralysis and/or intestinal obstruction William McKinley Shot by Leon Czolgosz September 14, 1901 58 Gangrene within gunshot wound Theodore Roosevelt January 6, 1919 60 Coronary occlusion by a blood clot William Howard Taft March 8, 1930 72 Heart disease Woodrow Wilson February 3, 1924 67 Stroke Warren G. Harding August 2, 1923 57 Heart attack Calvin Coolidge January 5, 1933 60 Heart attack Herbert Hoover October 20, 1964 90 Internal hemorrhage, upper gastrointestinal bleeding, strained vascular systems Franklin D. Roosevelt April 12, 1945 63 Cerebral hemorrhage, polio Harry S Truman December 26, 1972 88 Minor lung congestion, organ failures, cardiovascular system collapse, hypotension Dwight D. Eisenhower March 28, 1969 78 Heart failure John F. Kennedy Shot by Lee Harvey Oswald November 22, 1963 46 Lyndon B. Johnson January 22, 1973 64 Heart attack Richard Nixon April 22, 1994 81 Stroke, paralysis, swelling of the brain Gerald Ford December 26, 2006 93 Arteriosclerotic cerebrovascular disease, diffuse arteriosclerosis Jimmy Carter December 29, 2024 100 Natural causes Ronald Reagan June 5, 2004 93 Alzheimer's, pneumonia George H. W. Bush November 30, 2018 94 Parkinson's Bill Clinton(b. 1946)1993– 2001 George W. Bush(b. 1946)2001– 2009 Barack Obama(b. 1961)2009– 2016 Incumbent
-August 19, 2017 What seeing red looks like. EVERYONE LOVES THE FIRST DAY OF A NEW JOB, RIGHT? NEW COLLEAGUES, NEW FRIENDS. IT’S A DAY FULL OF POTENTIAL AND HOPE, BEFORE ALL THE DREARY DEPRESSIONS OF REALITY SHOW UP TO RUIN ALL THE FUN. I LIKE THE FIRST DAY OF WORK FOR A DIFFERENT REASON THOUGH. YOU SEE, I HAVE A SORT OF POWER. WHEN I LOOK A COLORED 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, LIVING TO OLD AGE. A FAIR AMOUNT OF THEM HAVE A PEACH TINGE TO THEIR AURA WHICH TENDS TO MEAN A CANCER OR DEPRESSION. 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 THROBBING FADE. IT’S SUCH A RUSH TO SEE THEM AND KNOW THEIR TIME IS NUMBERED. WITH THAT IN MIND, I ALWAYS GET TO WORK VERY EARLY SO I CAN SCOUT OUT MY COLLEAGUES’ FATES. THE FIRST MAN WHO WALKED IN WAS BASICALLY RADIATING RED. TOO BAD, BRO. BUT AS PEOPLE KEPT WALKING IN, THEY ALL HAD THE SAME RAPIDLY FADING COLOR. I FINALLY CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF MY OWN REFLECTION, SUDDENLY PLUMMETING TO A RED LIKE THE OTHERS. OUR BOSS STEPPED IN SMILING AND LOCKED THE DOOR, HIS AURA A SICKENING SHADE OF GREEN... ZENRYHAO
Wednesday, October 28, 2015 Here’s a breakdown of the most popular candy in each state: Alabama: AirHeads Alaska: Snickers Arizona: Toblerone Arkansas: Skittles California: Life Savers Colorado: Milky Way Connecticut: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Delaware: 3 Musketeers Florida: Nestlé Crunch Georgia - Pixy Stix Hawaii: 100 Grand Bar Idaho: Butterfinger Illinois: Snickers Indiana: Reese’s Pieces Iowa: Twix Kansas: Twizzlers Kentucky: Whoppers Louisiana: Swedish Fish Maine: Starburst Maryland: Almond Joy Massachusetts: Starburst Michigan: M&M’s Minnesota: 100 Grand Bar Mississippi: Hershey’s Kisses Missouri: Hershey’s Kisses Montana: Kit Kat Nebraska: Skittles Nevada: Jolly Ranchers New Hampshire: Tootsie Rolls New Jersey: Sour Patch Kids New Mexico: 3 Musketeers New York: Sweetarts North Carolina: Butterfinger North Dakota: Sour Patch Kids Ohio: Milky Way Oklahoma: M&M’s Oregon: Candy corn Pennsylvania: Swedish Fish Rhode Island: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups South Carolina: Candy corn South Dakota: Laffy Taffy Tennessee: Candy corn Texas: Candy corn Utah: Nerds Vermont: Almond Joy Virginia: Reese’s Pieces Washington: AirHeads West Virginia: Oreos Wisconsin: Laffy Taffy Wyoming: Candy corn District of Columbia: Twix
My Wife Left Rules Behind My wife knew she was going to dıe. She didn’t tell me how, or when—just that it was coming. Quietly. Softly. Soon. She left a list on the fridge before the cáncer took her. It wasn’t a will, or final instructions. It was a checklist. • Don’t open the guest room door after midnight • Never leave the blinds open when the lights are off • If the doorbell rings twice, lock yourself in the bathroom • Ignore any phone calls that come from my number • Nęver speak to me again At first, I thought it was grief. She was on morphine, barely lucid. Maybe just writing nonsense. Then, a week after the funerαl, the doorbell rang. Twice. At 2:04 a.m. I froze. Every hair on my bødy stood up like something was already in the room. I didn’t go to the door. I locked myself in the bathroom, just like she wrote. An hour later, I found the front door wide open. And muddy footprints across the carpet. The next night, her number called me. I watched the screen light up. Watched it ring four times. Watched it go to voicemail. When I checked the message, all I heard was breathıng. She’s been gone for six weeks now, and every night the checklist grows longer. Tonight, I found a new line added in fresh ink. • Stop telling people this story
Go to TrueScaryStories r/TrueScaryStories 7 yr. ago EowynJade Predicted Death I had gained some friends after transferring schools and during a sle€pover one night, I told my best friend Riley that her mother was going to have a baby. She had been worrying that her mother was prҽgnant again - as she was one of the older kids of six and she knew the signs - but she never once discussed it with me. I wasn't even told that she had that many siblings. Sure enough, a week later her mother announced that they were expecting chıld number seven. Riley told everyone in our grade that I had some freakishly psychic powers, and suddenly everyone wanted me to predict their future's. Obviously my gifts do not work like that. However, I thrived in the attention that it got me and I started reading peoples palms for fun. Around this time, my parents were frequently leaving me alone at home to go on vacations or to nice dinners and would leave me with a babysitter named Maggie when my grandmother was unable to look after me. Maggie was amazing and soon became a girl I could look up to, she was eighteen years old and had a first cousin - Charlie - that was in the seventh grade at my school. Although her cousin was three years oldeг than me, she rode my bus since she lived only about five blocks from me. I wanted to like Charlie, like I liked Maggie, but she tended to bully me on the bus - making fun. Anyways, me revealing that I was a palm reader and such only gave her more ammunition to bully me with, and one day she sat uncomfortably close and egged me on to read her palm or tell her her future. She had been nagging for me to do it for a while so eventually I gave in, telling myself that this would be the perfect time to scare her and, get even. When I read her palm, I had this idea in my mind of what I was going to tell her: that she was going to get hurt or that some gh0st was hunting her. However, when I opened my mouth to say something of that sort, I suddenly blurt out something entirely different. "You will die before you turn 18, and when you die you will kill two people." Of course she just bustɛd out laughing? Charlie obviously knew that I was just trying to freak her out. I shook it off, thinking nothing of the strange half-threat that I blurted out, assuming that I just didn't think before I spoke. I could not have been more wrong. Flash forward to when I am a freshman in high school and I completely forgot of that day, in fact I had nearly forgotten about my favorite babysitter - Maggie. She had moved away to college in a different state and Charlie had gone to a different high school than I ended up going to. One night, when I was nearly fifteen years old, my mother came into the living room and she looked like she had been crying. During this time, my parents were getting divorced so I assumed she had been drınkıng again, which was usually when she started crying. I stood up, ready to take the parenting role and put her to bed, but she had the house phone in her hand and said "Honey, you need to sit døwn for this." I immediately stiffened and lowered onto the couch, keeping on the edge, wondering immediately if something happened to grandma or my father who had moved out several months ago. She told me then that there had been a horrible car crash, four drunk girls got into the car and decided to have a joy ride around the train tracks that were not too far from here. The train didn't hït them or anything, but there was a hill leading up to the tracks and then to the left, a ditch. Many cars had slid or tipped into the ditch if they drove too fast over the hill and tracks without turning their car slightly to the right to avoid it. Apparently they had taken to jumping the tracks by using the hill like a ramp with the radio blasting but they ended up flipping down the ditch and three of the four passengers died instantly - the fourth survived against all odds. The driver? Charlie, aged 17 with her 18th birthday that next week. The survivor? My childhood babysitter Maggie. Maggie ended up telling the story of what happened, since she was only a bit topsy and soon came to remember that night just before the crash. Charlie had hït her head on one of the jumps and was feeling dizzy when they went to do another jump, so they decided to just go over the hill and continue towards the hospıtal, worrying that she had alcohol poısoning or a concussion. The last thing that she remembers is Charlie started to seize in the front seat, her foot hitting the gas hard towards the track - the rest is gone. She had possibly died before the car crashed, maybe even causing the crash - as if kılling the two other girls in the car while déád.
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

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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.
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Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 days ago CBenson1273 My Daughter Keeps Dying Over And Over Again One day I was out watching my daughter ride her bike. I took my eyes off her for just a second and heard a loud horn - when I looked up, a car was speeding away and her broken body was laying in the street. I must have called the police and my wife, but all I remember is sitting there, holding Maddie’s lifeless body. I vaguely recall a kind woman stopping, taking her hand, and saying “this is not the end” before walking away. Then Maddie’s hand moved. Her eyes opened and looked at me. “Daddy? What happened?” The paramedics’ insisted that her injuries must not have been that severe; I’d just panicked and assumed the worst. But I’d seen her, held her. She was dead. Maddie’s mother tried to use the accident to revisit custody, but her claim went nowhere. Life went on. The next week, I was caught in a traffic jam. Turns out a car had fatallƴ hit a phone pole. The same car that hït Maddie. A few months later, Maddie’s school called. She’d fallen off the jungle gym and landed head-first. When I arrived, the principal was waiting. She apologized, insisting it was an accident. Maddie died at the hospital; the doctors said there was nothing they could have done. Her mother said I’d be hearing from her lawyer. Later, as I sat with her, she twitched. Then she started breathing and reached for me. The doctors were stunned. I wasn’t. The following week, the news reported a student from Maddie’s school had fallen from the fourth floor of his apartment building. The same student who’d pushed Maddie from the jungle gym, despite what the principal had insisted. That evening, Maddie asked me if “the angel” had done it. She spoke of a figure that had approached her after her accident. It had said “not yet” and touched her head and she’d awoken. Touched. The woman who’d taken her hand at her accident. That had to be it. I tracked her to the outskirts of town and demanded to know what she’d done. She revealed that, sensing my grief, she’d placed a spell that would bring my daughter back. But the cost was the life of whoever kılled her. A life for a life. Horrified, I left. What did this mean? Would Maddie return every time she died? Slowly, things returned to normal. There were no more “incidents”; I didn’t see the old woman again. One night, the phone rang; it was my ex-wife. Surprising since we didn’t speak except regarding Maddie. “Jack! It’s Maddie! She’s not breathıng!” “WHAT I’m on my way!” Everything was so hectic that she didn’t notice how quickly I arrived at the hospital. Or that I wasn’t more distraught. Or that Maddie was already dead. If only she’d known about Maddie’s recently-revealed peanut allergy before she’d served those cookies. I wasn’t worried - I knew Maddie would be fine.. Yet Carol wouldn’t be so lucky.
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