Feticidal Emojis & Text

r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago SkullStar “I only want two kids; no more, no less”, my husband reassured me as I smiled. The twins went inside the house and as my husband's pregnant mistress crossed the street, my foot pressed on the gas pedal.

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

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

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Gallantmirth I watched the monster's jagged claws inch slowly out from under the bed. "I won't let him in again, I promise" it assured me as my dad crept to the room.

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

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

..._...|..____________________, , ....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = D ...../_==o;;;;;;;;_______.:/ .....), ---.(_(__) / ....// (..) ), ----" ...//___// ..//___// .//___// ιf уσυ ωσυℓ∂ נυмρ ιи fяσит σf α вυℓℓєт fσя уσυя gιяℓfяιєи∂, вσуfяιєи∂, єχ-gιяℓfяιєи∂, єχ-вσуfяιєи∂, вєѕт fяιєи∂, fαмιℓу мємвєя, σя נυѕт α ρєяѕσи уσυ ℓσνє, яє ρσѕт тнιѕ σитσ уσυя ραgє!

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

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

vicenarian (20–29) tricenarian (30–39) quadragenarian (40–49) semicentenarian (50) quinquagenarian (50–59) sexagenarian (60–69) septuagenarian (70–79) octogenarian (80–89) nonagenarian (90–99) ultracentenarian (100+) centenary semisupercentenarian (105–109) supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian centevicenarian ages 120-129 ↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓ sesquicentenarian (150–159) bicentenarian (200–299) multicentenarian (200+) tricentenarian (300–399) quadricentenarian (400–499) quincentenarian (500–599)

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.

https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide Foeticide, of a fetus Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months Avunculicide, one's uncle Fratricide, one's brother Mariticide, one's husband or significant other Matricide, one's mother Nepoticide, one's nephew Parricide, of one's close relative Patricide, of one's father Sororicide, of one's sister Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend Nepticide, of one's niece Amiticide, of one's aunt Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░ ▄▄▄░░▄▄░▄▄░░▄▄░░░▄░░▄▄░░ ░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░ ░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░ ▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░ I 🤍 DAD

July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents. Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me. I smiled and asked, “How do you know?” He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.” Love GMH

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

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them. I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane. The sand in the hour-glasses refilled. —Human_Gravy

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago _FallenAngel__ A genie granted me my wish to become the most beautiful woman in the world forever Now I sit here in a museum, frozen in a painting for the past 500 years as people passing by admire and faun over my timeless beauty

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

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

☆˚₊‧꒰ა👁໒꒱ ‧₊˚☆ ꧁༒☬𝕭𝖊 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉☬༒꧂

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

🌅ⲯ﹍︿﹍︿﹍ 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ﹍ⲯ﹍ⲯ﹍︿﹍☼🌄

Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015

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

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

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

6:57 AM 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 : At the end of the day it all depends on you, so why you still blaming every negative outcome on other people? Stop putting so much effort in negative thoughts and start doing something productive.

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

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

r/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.

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

r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago manen_lyset My sister ruined my sweet 16 My sister ruined my sweet 16 It was supposed to be my special day. Everything was going to be perfect. I'd even gotten a custom made dress for the occasion. Everything was going off without a hitch, but then, my sister ruined my life. It started during the father-daughter dance. There we were, gliding across the ballroom. All eyes on me, as my beautiful gown fluttered at my feet. Suddenly, my sister started convulsing in spasm’s. Whilst everybody tried to figure out what had made the noise, the attention hog tore a hole in the side of my dress with her bare teeth. My party guests were on-edge, all because of her! She couldn't even let me have ONE single birthday to myself. She then started foaming at the mouth mumbling incoherently. By then, my friends were running scared. They shrieked in horror, the party was officially ruined, her head dropped, she went quiet and turned blue. I'm going in for surgery tomorrow to have her remains removed from my side… I've been carrying around her useless conjoint self 16 years too long..

Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.

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

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

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

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

I Want to Help It was a beautiful morning when I woke up, the sun shining through and the wildlife up and about. I went for my morning stroll, taking my usual route. I stopped by the surface of the water, when I saw the most peculiar thing: a little girl… In there. Couldn’t she breathe? Why didn’t she come out? Panicking, I reached out and grabbed her arms, yanking her out of it and holding her close to me. She started to scream, but then seemed to be choking. I tried to calm her down. “Shh… Everything is fine, little one, I saved you! Relax! Breathe in!” But she wouldn’t. And soon, despite all my efforts, she went limp. Not again! I couldn’t understand. I had taken her out of that horrible, disgusting air, and into the safety of the water. What had I done wrong this time? Maybe my tentacles frighten them. Maybe I wasn’t gentle enough. Human children are so unpredictable. I’ll save one for real next time, I swear.

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝔃𝓮: 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 & 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. ଓ

Giggles Chuck climbed out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, refusing to turn on the bedside lamp in case he disturbed his wife whom was låyīng beside him. Finishing his busıness, he made his way to the sink, and just as he began to run the water, thought he heard a faint laughter coming from the bedroom. “Honey? Was that you?” He listened carefully, but there was no reply from that dark doorway. Chuck turned back to the sink and continued to wash his hands, certain that it was just his half-asleep brain playing tricks. However, moments later, he once again thought he could hear a faint laughter from the bedroom. He turned off the water, and began to make his way back into the bedroom. The light was off, and in the bed, he could make out the shape of his wife låyīng there. “Honey? Were you laughing?” Chuck flicked on the bedside lamp, and in an instant was looking into the unblinking đeađ eyes of his wife, her mouth sliced from ear-to-ear in a grotesque mockery of a smıle. Chuck felt his heart freeze, before relief washed over him. “Oh, it WAS you!” he exclaimed with a smıle as he peeled back the ̛ bed sheets, stıll stiff from the long dried błoođ, and climbed back into ̛ bed, kissing his wife’s cold cheek before turning out the light. “For a moment there, I thought I was going cRaZy.”

‘A Message From Your Personal Demons’ By MrGarm “I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend.” Hello, my dear. You do not know who I am, but I know you. I am one of the three demons that were assigned to you at birth. You see, some people in this world are destined for greatness, destined to live happy, fulfilling lives. You, I am afraid, are not one of those people, and it is our job to make sure of that. Who are we? Oh yes, of course, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce us: Shame is my younger brother, the demon on your left shoulder. Shame tells you that you’re a freak; that those thoughts you have are not normal; that you will never fit in. Shame whispered into your ear when your mother found you playing with yourself as a child. Shame is the one who makes you hate yourself. Fear sits on your right shoulder. He is my older brother, as old as life itself. Fear fills every dark corner with monsters, and turns every stranger on a dark street into a murderer. Fear stops you from telling your crush how you feel. He tells you it is better not to try than to let people see you fail. Fear makes you build your prison. Who am I, then? I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend. You turn to me when you have nothing else because I live in your heart. I am the one who forces you to endure. The one who prolongs your torment. Sincerely, Hope.

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

r/shortscarystories 5 days ago DottedWriter My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees "Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me. I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me. She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me. She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end. I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies. She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me. So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool . I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me. I had enough of it. I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart. It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out. I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .

The Lights When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions), I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep; I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory I came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howls. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one I had killed, had been my protection.

Mothers Illness My mother had fallen ill. She had what my dad did, at least thats what it looked like Everyone cried. I asked if we could take her to the doctor, but we cant afford it My older sister took time off college to take care of her, but we knew how it would end Mother would die like father did Two months later she did After the funeral the cops started to snooping around They questioned me first; they wanted to know what l knew: They threatened me, saying I could be charged as an adult because I was almost seventeen. I cried and said I loved my parents They took my finger prints and let me go. My sister was next They never let her go. They said she poisoned my parents for the life insurance policy she took out on them. My three younger siblings and i couldnt believe it My sister never admitted to the crime, but everyone said she was guilty. That is what it looked like. • The hardest part of it all was getting my sisters figure prints on the poison. Faking her identity to take out the insurance policies was easy Soon Id be going to a new home, with new parents. Its time to start planning my next game.

WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.

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

★　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　★　　　　　　　★ 　★　　 　　★ 　　　　　　𝓗𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂! 　　 　　　　　★　　　　　　　　　　　★　　　　　　　　　★　　　　　　★ 　　　　★　　　　　

Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM Mom <Your great aunt just passed away. LOL Why is that funny?> <It's not funny! Wht do you mean? Mom lol means laughing out loud!> <Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.

i turned to the guy who k1lled my wife ✨ He cried so desperately, scared for what was to come. If only he had talked to me and tried to reason, maybe I could have spared him. But that was impossible. After all, he was born just a few moments ago...

ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᴬᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᴰᵃʸ ᴹʸ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢᵐᵃⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿᵈᵘˢᵗʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ‧ ᴬˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᶜᵘᵈᵈˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ! ᵀʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʳᵐ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡⁱᶜᵏ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʳᵃʳᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵛᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉˢᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵈᵃʸˢ ⁱⁿᵛᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ! ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ! ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈʳᵃʷⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʳᵉˢᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˡˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ!ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᶜʰᵉᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʷᵃᵍ ᵐʸ ᵗᵃⁱˡ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᴳᵃʳʸ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵉʳᶜⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ! ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵇᵒᵘʳ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡᵒʷ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵖᵉʳ ˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷʰⁱᵖ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ! ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗᵒᵛᵉʳˢ! ᴼᵘʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵈᵒ ᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵘⁿˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗˢ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉˢ‧ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜʰᵉʷ ᵗᵒʸ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴬ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ! ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ! ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁱˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᵃᶠᵒʳᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉ ᵒʳ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵐᵒᵈᵉ ᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵀʰᵘˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᵃⁿᵈ/ᵒʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳˢ ᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒˢ ᵒʳ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵘᶻᶻˡᵉ ᵒʳ ʳᵘᵇ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃˡᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵃʸ'ˢ ⁱⁿ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ᴵ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜˡᵃᵐᵒᵘʳˢ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ! ᴵ'ᵐ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago villianrules After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer. It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.

3:20 PM 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔..𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖? 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 "𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅" ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒄𝒐𝒏,𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒐: 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚.(𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔: 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔.˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒙𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔, 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒕𝒄.˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄.˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ -xoxo pretty girl˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 8 mo. ago homestarmy_recruiter "Turn back," I begged my friend as he drove, sirens wailing in the background. He seemed desperate not to, at first, but after I got one of his earplugs out, he agreed that their voices were too beautiful to ignore.

A White Lie I'm the last one here. Those things have killed everyone else. Those things with the huge wings, with the beady eyes, with the sharp claws....every time I close my eyes see my coworkers being ripped apart. A few of us made it to the building here, but even here we aren't safe. I watched them get picked off one by one, screaming as they fought against death. I tried to stop it I swear I did I tried... Now I'm running through the building to the main power center. With no one else to ask, I'm tasked with pressing one of these buttons. Either will press the red button, or the green button. Supposedly, one button will turn the power doors back on, protecting us from whatever that shrieking, hungry, and angry...thing is outside. That's the red button. The other button is green and opens the opposite side power door, and I can only imagine what might be out there. Why had I agreed to come and research in this lab? I think as I run, hearing the screeches behind me. Oh .... Why did I lie on my application? Why didn't I admit I was color blind?

I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.

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

Not only have we implanted a lifetime of human memories into this rat but we can now monitor what it's thinking. It appears to think it's reading the second line of a two sentence story on-line right now..

Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active? You may not necessarily require, unless... You want to plan on having offspring To check for as*ault (such as ab*se) A family relation has had female reproductive cancer if contemplating feticidal abort1on If getting some reproductive apparatus if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus which is transmitted vía such contact If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap checks you for) dormant in your system

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

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

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

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.

http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/stmaryscem.htm

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

🔵 The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 - - also on December 20. 🔵

𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷

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

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

ᶜᵒⁿᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴰᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᴱᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˣᵃᵐᵖˡᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿ ᵉᶜᵗᵒᵖⁱᶜ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵇᵒʳⁿ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ⁱˢ ᵈᵉᵛᵉˡᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵛⁱᵈᵘᶜᵗ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵘᵖᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ‧ ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉ ⁱᵐᵖˡᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ⸴ ˡᵃᵖᵃʳᵒʰʸˢᵗᵉʳᵒˢᵃˡᵖⁱⁿᵍᵒᵒᵒᵖʰᵒʳᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ‧ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ˡᵃʷ ʳᵉᑫᵘⁱʳᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵘˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉʳᵐⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ ⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ “ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ⸴” ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ’ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v (Autistic Author) Karen watches the exchange, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. "Plankton," she says gently. "What can Chip do to help you?" "Just be patient," he says. "And maybe don't touch me to much." Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But what if you don't look okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch in what Karen recognizes as a sign of discomfort, but he answers. "Inform Karen, I mean uh ‘Mommy’, but just wait for me to come back I guess," he says. "Don't call panicked attention to it." Chip nods, his eyes searching Plankton's face. "But what if you fall down or something?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well, if that happens," he says, his voice gruff but gentle, "you can offer to help me up, yet also same thing. But then just remember to give me some space, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says, voice earnest. Karen feels a knot in her throat, watching the two of them. Plankton's vulnerability is a rare sight, but she knows it's a step in the right direction. She decides to push the conversation a bit further. "Chip," she says softly. "Do you have any more questions?" Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes searching. "Why’d you get so mad when asking you questions?" Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's hard to explain," he says, his voice tight. "I know you're trying to help, but sometimes it feels like you're poking at a sore spot." Chip's expression falls, his lower lip trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, Dad," he says, his voice a whisper. Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping to his side. "I know you didn't," he says, his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes, when people ask questions about it, it feels like they're not accepting me the way I am." Karen's heart breaks a little at her husband's words, but she knows this is a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to say is that sometimes, it's hard for him to talk about." Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. "But you're still my dad," he says, his voice firm. "I'll always love you, no matter what." Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods and for a moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion in his eye. The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken words. Karen's heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal moment. Plankton has always struggled with expressing his emotions, especially with their son. The words "I love you" are as foreign to him as the surface world. "I know you do, buddy," Plankton says, his voice gruff. He clears his throat, looking down at the rock on the coffee table. "But for me, it's not always easy to say those words." He looks up at Chip, his eye filled with something Karen can't quite place—pain, perhaps, or regret. "But just because I don't say it, doesn't mean I don't feel it, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "But why can't you say it?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's antennae droop, and he looks away, his eye avoiding contact with both Karen and Chip. "I just want to make sure you know that I love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of hope and desperation. "Isn't that what families do?" The room seems to shrink around them, the air charged with anticipation. Plankton's antennae shoot straight up, and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen can almost see the cogs turning in his mind, the struggle to find the right words. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton snaps, his voice sharp as a knife. Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his hand, giving him the courage to keep asking. "I just want to understand," Chip whispers. Plankton's eye flashes with irritation. "Why does it matter so much?" he snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do you have to know everything?" Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling. "Because I don't want you to be sad," he says, his eyes brimming with tears. Plankton processes Chip's words. His antennae quiver, his eye flitting between his son and Karen, who's watching with a silent plea for patience. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's so important about me saying it?" Karen's eyes are filled with a silent apology as she sees the confusion and hurt on Chip's face. She knows Plankton's words are a defense mechanism, a way to keep his own fears at bay. But she also knows how much their son needs to hear those words. "Plankton," she says gently, her voice a soft reminder of the love in the room. "Chip just wants to understand." Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I don't know how to explain it so he gets it." Karen nods, her heart aching for both her son and her husband. "Chip," she says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?" But Chip's eyes are on Plankton, searching for answers that Plankton seems unwilling to give. Plankton's antennae are a blur of movement, his frustration palpable in the air. "I don't know how to explain it so you'll get it!" he snaps, his voice echoing off the walls. Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws further into himself, clutching the rock tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice shaking. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, a silent plea for calm. "Plankton," she says gently, "you don't have to explain everything right now. We just want to help." But Plankton's antennae are a blur of agitation, his eye darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I don't know what you want from me," he says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be honest, but it feels like no matter what I say, it's not enough." Karen can see the frustration in her husband's movements, his antennae waving erratically. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of the love in the room. Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a hint of accusation. "You want me to just lay it all out, like it's simple." Karen can feel the frustration rolling off of him, and she knows that pushing him further won't help. "I know it's hard," she says, her voice soothing. "But we can take it slow, okay?" Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation. "Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect me to be good at it." The tension in the room is thick, but Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why don't we start by talking about what happened today?" she suggests, her voice calm and even. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods, his eye flicking to Chip before looking away again. "Ok," he says, his voice tight. "Do you remember what happened at the park today?" Karen asks, keeping her voice gentle and steady. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I had one of my... moments." Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with concern. "Is it okay with Dad…" "I'm right here, buddy," Plankton interrupts, his antennae still, his eye fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay." But Chip isn't convinced. "But you weren't okay at the park," he says, his voice quivering. "You were scared I think.." Plankton's antennae shoot up in frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps, his voice echoing through the room. "It's just... it's hard to explain!" Karen's heart squeezes, watching her husband's distress, but she knows they need to keep the conversation going. "Chip," she says gently, "why don't you tell us what you felt when you saw Daddy's moment?" Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening. "I was scared," he admits, his voice shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and everyone was looking." Plankton's antennae droop, his eye flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset, and Karen can see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I just want to know," Chip says, his voice trembling, "I wanna know why you…" But before he can finish, Plankton's antennae shoot up in anger, his eye flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep poking at me like that?" he yells, his voice echoing through the room. "Can't you just leave me alone?" Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps back, his small body trembling. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the fear in her son's eyes, and she knows that Plankton's outburst isn't helping. "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension.

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

I̵̱̓͆͘'̷̞̰̜̭͚̉͂̈́̌͗m̴͓̼̲͖̮̣̣͒͛̈́̑̿͘ ̷̛͓̖̯͎̱͇̓̉̔̿͝T̵̰̓͊̈́͛͆̀̈́̎̆͝e̶̞͔̤̟̒̋̽̍r̸̨̻̬̲̰̂͑̍̂̋͜r̵̨̫̓̄̀̀͊̔̽͝i̷̢̺͇̒͗́̈́̚͜͝f̸̛̦̱̱͋̾͊̔ị̵͇͙̥̭̜̒͒̆̃́e̸̬̺͉̩̘̬̟̥̊̾ḑ̵͇̪͚̻̾̉̈́̅͗̀̉̀͐͘ͅ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅM̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎ȩ̸̛̛̹͉͓̿̈̽̈́͊ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅM̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎ȩ̸̛̛̹͉͓̿̈̽̈́͊ S̵̨̛̙͉̈́̏ą̷͔̣̳̙͈̝̫͈͔͋̅̌̎̇̓̎͝v̴͉͙͈̺̖̖̠͉͛̔̆̔͌͑͝ę̴̠̓͊͑̈́M̸̱̠̞̲͗̑̓̉̇̾̋͜͝ͅȩ̶̳̻͚̣͈̱̤͔̩̽͂̽͗̃̈́̀̂̾S̶̨͓͔̠͚̒̍̽a̵̳̩͓̣̐͂̾̈͆́̑̕͘̕v̸̨͔̱̥̭̭̆͒͘ę̷̝̺̖̪̩̭̀̔̑͛̍̔̈́͘ͅ M̴̯̮͓̠̘͚̦͚̔̀͂̈́͆͜ę̷̧͓͇̫̗̩͆̿͆̌́͝͠S̴̡̘͖͓̺͖̟͎̓͌͂̅̀̄̈̀͌̈́à̵̢̯͇͙͓̗̣̗͖̂͊̊͘͝v̵̰̟͎̈́̀͒͆͐̅ e̵̱͕̰̯̬̹͋̋͐́ͅM̷̱̻̜͔̘̗̱̐͌͂ë̷͍͎̙̖̝̙̝̫͙́̓͜Ş̵̧̛͕̬̭̭͉̫̂̋͑̉̇͜ ạ̷̧̯̲͍̠̦̤̞͗̀͌̍̈͋͝v̸̢̰̞̺̟̦̺̝͗é̷̢͈͚̟̙̠̽̆͛̉̃̚ Ḿ̵̡͔͔̠̫͓̭͔͖̬͂̐̄̓̅͆͝ḙ̵̹̯͇̭̃̊͂͌͊̚̕S̸̩̒͝a̴̢̪͚̻̦͖͇͆͗̈́̏̈̽͆̔̚v̶̛̾͂̏́̀̉̚͜ẻ̶͕̖͂̀́̏̂͛͒͜M̵̰̭̟̯̩̻̘̭͐͑̋̔̎

Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Sunday 31 May 2015 Goth Is Not Inherently Satanic I got harrassed for being a Goth by a stranger professing the grounds of Christianity, and attempting to convert me away as reason to berate me. Yesterday, I was out busking in town, in relatively Gothic clothes, wearing my red wig, and playing my usual fare of traditional Scottish, Irish and other European folk tunes, and this middle-aged man who was clearly drunk came up to me, and started going about how I play "mystical stuff that goes back to the 12th century" (a reference to an incoherent comment he'd made about Greensleeves at me months ago; I'm surprised he'd remembered it, because I had forgotten about it) and then started going on about how I "don't have to wear black, and dye your [my] hair red" (I pointed out that I was wearing a wig, but he didn't seem to be listening) and then went on to get into my personal space and loudly and aggressively deride being a Goth as Satanic, and tell me that he's a Christian and that I should, to paraphrase him 'find my Saviour'. I tried my best to explain that Goths no religious affiliation and simply an aesthetic preference, but he kept insisting. As he later went on to inform that he'd been an alcoholic, and then "clean for 2 years" but had "done a runner three days ago", I decided that his words and actions were the product and not to take them to heart. He said he would pray for me, and I thanked him. I decided silently I would pray for him too, for that after 2 years clean and then relapsing, he finds his way back to sobriety, and get the help and support to do so, and find the inner strength too, because I know addiction is hard battle. Just as he left my Goth friends came up to me, saying they weren't sure whether to intervene, as he had harassed them too, condemning them. It was a complex situation, and even though he railed at us and condemned us, his actions were clearly a sign of his own struggles and I could not bring myself to be harsh with him, and he did give me a £5 note, so at least he was generous as well as religiously harrassing (not that giving me money ameliorates bad behaviour, and I do wonder if he thought giving me money was simply a way to get my time). I didn't know what to do about the situation; I felt cornered because busking generally means I have to stand with my back to a wall to avoid being in the way of pedestrians, and although people were walking by, nobody helped me and I could not see any security guards or police, although I did feel that they might just treat him as another obnoxious drunk, when he probably needed more nuanced help than that. This got me thinking that it is a common misconception that Goth is synonymous with Satanic, or at least that it is inherently Satanic, and I feel like it would be productive to break down that misconception. Goth is simply a subculture that is focused on having an appreciation for the morbid, dark and spooky in music, fashion, art and literature; it has no religious affiliation at all, and Goths come from all religions as well as agnostic and atheists. That is the short response, but does not really contain any nuance, not does it explain why Goths sometimes use Satanic imagery, or gives any differentiated understanding of how occult themes tie into the Gothic, and as such does little to shed light on how Goth is not Satanic even though it looks like it could be. Satanic imagery is used within the Gothic subculture for several reasons. Sometimes Satanic imagery is used for shock value, especially by those who feel constrained by a conservative cultural backdrop and wish to differentiate themselves as other, as part of something taboo, dark and frightening. Often it is teens who do this, and it is not representative of the wearer's/displayer's true religious or spiritual beliefs, but part of a more complex process of wishing to separate themselves and create their own identity. Often a passing phase - either because all interest in dark and spooky things is a passing phase, or because they mature into somebody more in the identity, rather than identifying themselves oppositionally to others. Some people carry this behaviour on adulthood, but usually a behaviour that people mature. Often, Satanic imagery used for is not used in a way that is coherent with the actual uses of those symbols within Satan or the occult, and is often mixed up with symbols from other religious and spiritual groups (I have seen symbols appropriated into this sort of shock-value pseudo-Satanism, but that is another matter.) Some Goths actually are Satanist, but they are a minority even within the Goth scene - these people will use Satanic symbols correctly, and tend not to advertise their Satanic affiliations. Most of the actual Satanists I know personally are not Goths; they tend to be more "nerdy" and less into the theatric and ostentatious aesthetics of Goth. Most of the I have met subscribe to a version of Satanist where Satan is an archetype of independence, hedonism and suchlike, rather than a deliberately Anti-Christ worship of the Devil. I have never met an actual Devil-worshipper, someone who subscribes to a Christian theology and cosmology, but looks to Heck and the Devil rather than to Heaven and Jesus - I am not saying they do not exist, just that such people must be quite rare, even amongst Gothic and Occult circles. Sometimes people mistake Neo-Pagan iconography and symbolism for Satanic imagery, for example confusion can arise over the use of pentacles and pentagrams (and their inverted variations), and this is exacerbated by the misuse of these. Neo-Paganism is a religion that has no concept of an adversarial dichotomy, with no Heck or Satan. Some people hold the belief that all things other than their specific religious path are Satanic or at least a distraction or deception from what they see as the truth, but outside of that belief structure, there is little in Neo-Paganism that could mark it as anything Satanist, any more than say, Buddhism or Hindoo; it is a completely different belief system to any of the monotheistic faiths. As Goths often have an interest in the spiritual, and are apt to look outside conventional spirituality for answers, there are quite a few Neo-Pagans within Goth, but again, not all Goths are Neo-Pagans, and not all Neo-Pagans are Goths (quite a few dress very 'mainstream' and others -a significant proportion- are more inclined towards Hippy and 'Bohemian' aesthetics.). There are some who feel badly hurt by Christianity, or who see it as a destructive force, and who use Christian symbols and anti-Christian symbols as a critique of Christianity and the power of organised religion; sometimes this falls into the territory of shock-value, and sometimes it is done with more refinement and nuance, but this is not unique to Goth, even though it does exist within the Gothic subculture, nor is it something you have to engage in as a Goth. Goths tend to be people who have been outcast by traditional community structures, and that can include the Church, and/or people who use Christianity as an excuse to harass (a bit like the man in my opening paragraphs) - as such, there are probably a greater percentage of Goths who do this than non-Goths. Personally, even as an apostate, I find this sort of thing can often be more harmful and rectionary than productive. I don't think religions should be beyond criticism or critique, but I do think that there ways to go about doing this, and there are ways that are just rude and mean, where the message is lost. There are, of course, more than these four contexts, but these are the four most common contexts and reasons for the use of Satanic imagery within the Gothic subculture. Sometimes it is used in the traditional way it was used within Gothic horror; as a symbol for various evils or villainry that a good person can come across, for example. The use of Satanic imagery is not inherent to Goth - the use of dark imagery is, but not all dark imagery has to come from the cultural/religious context of Heaven and Heck, God and the Devil - there are plenty more traditions to draw from, and a lot of Gothic imagery comes from European folk-tales, sometimes more entwined with Christianity. The imagery of death, decay, transience and similar are part of the human experience, and appear in different ways across all cultures. There is plenty of positive Christian iconography used in Goth as well - but that is a topic for different blog entry entirely (and something I would quite like to write about, and get some of my Christian Goth friends to write guest posts for, but that is for a different time). Not everything dark is Satanic even in a Christian context; the Bible is full of stories about people who had to overcome pain, suffering and violence, and the very concepts of martyrdom and Christ as crucified saviour involve death and sacrifice; not everything that is dark is inherently negative. Goths are not synonymous with Satanist, we are not a group who worship the Devil or are anti-Christian; we are diverse with diverse perspectives outside of things that are actually Goth (of which specific religious affiliation is not). There are quite a few Goths who are Christians, and there are Goths who are Jewish, Muslim, and members of other monotheistic faiths. There are even Goth priests - check out the ::Priestly Goth Blog:: for example. You cannot tell someone's religion by subcultural affiliation. Side note: if you wish to convert someone to your faith, condemning them and berating them will have the exact opposite effect; you are more likely to drive that person away from the religion you profess than convert them. The HouseCat at 07:00

The End “The End is nigh” “Agency Officials: Spend this time with your loved ones” “Citizens prepare for the Inevitable” The newspapers were all the same. His mother whisked him away from the news stand and into her arms, but not before he read the last headline. “The Invasion: What could We have done?” “Mommy, what’s happening?” he whispered. She pressed his warm, chubby hand to her wet cheek and let out a quiet sob. “The humans. They found us.”

1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.

https://www.acpjournals.org/doi/10.7326/M14-0701

ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᶜʰᵉⁿ ⁽ᴶⁱᵃʲⁱⁿᵍ⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ˣⁱᵃᵒʲⁱᵉ ᴳᵒⁿᵍʸⁱ ᶜⁱʳᵘⁱ ᴬⁿᶻʰᵘᵃⁿᵍ ˣⁱᵃⁿᵍᵗⁱᵃⁿ ʸⁱˢʰᵉⁿᵍ ᔆᵘ ⁽孝潔恭懿慈睿安莊相天翊聖肅皇后⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ˣⁱᵃᵒʲⁱᵉˢᵘ ⁽¹⁵⁰⁸–¹⁵²⁸⁾, ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵃⁿ, ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵉˢᵉ ᵉᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴹⁱⁿᵍ ᵈʸⁿᵃˢᵗʸ, ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵉᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴶⁱᵃʲⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵂᵃⁿʸᵃⁿᵍ ⁽ᵈ‧ ¹⁵³⁵⁾‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵉˡᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴶⁱᵃʲⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ¹⁵²²‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵉᵃʳ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵉᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˢʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ'ˢ ᵃᵘⁿᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᴰᵒʷᵃᵍᵉʳ ᶻʰᵃⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵘⁿᵗ, ʰᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ, ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵⁿ ¹⁵²⁸, ˢʰᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᵗ‧ ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ, ᵗʰᵉ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ʳᵃᵍᵉ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᵐⁱˢᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᵀᴵᵀᴸᴱᔆ ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻʰᵉⁿᵍᵈᵉ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ⁽ʳ‧ ¹⁵⁰⁵–¹⁵²¹⁾ ᴸᵃᵈʸ ᶜʰᵉⁿ ⁽陳氏; ᶠʳᵒᵐ ¹⁵⁰⁸⁾ ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴶⁱᵃʲⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ⁽ʳ‧ ¹⁵²¹–¹⁵⁶⁷⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ⁽皇后; ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᵉᵖᵗᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁵²¹⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᴰᵃᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁽悼靈皇后, ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴼᶜᵗᵒᵇᵉʳ ¹⁵²⁸⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ˣⁱᵃᵒʲⁱᵉ ⁽孝潔皇后; ᶠʳᵒᵐ ¹⁵³⁶⁾ ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴸᵒⁿᵍᑫⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵐᵖᵉʳᵒʳ ⁽ʳ‧ ¹⁵⁶⁷– ¹⁵⁷²⁾ ᴱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢ ˣⁱᵃᵒʲⁱᵉ ᴳᵒⁿᵍʸⁱ ᶜⁱʳᵘⁱ ᴬⁿᶻʰᵘᵃⁿᵍ ˣⁱᵃⁿᵍᵗⁱᵃⁿ ʸⁱˢʰᵉⁿᵍ ᔆᵘ ⁽孝潔恭懿慈睿安莊相天翊聖肅皇后; ᶠʳᵒᵐ ¹⁵⁶⁷⁾

America’s Top 5 Spooky Spots for Horror Enthusiasts February 17, 2024 / Strange and Unexplained / 4 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — 3 minutes How many times have you tried to find a place in the US that will raise your hair up and fill you with adrenaline? If you’re the kind of person who loves to take part in horror adventures, then you should know that America is full of spooky places, like dark cemeteries, abandoned mansions, and dark towns. The only thing you’ve left to do to satisfy your horror cravings is to choose the most suitable one for your needs and plan your next trip. The 5 spooky places in America that we’re about to list and discuss will indeed fascinate every horror enthusiast. Table of Contents 1. Bonaventure Cemetery 2. Lemp Mansion 3. Bally’s Resort and Casino 4. Gettysburg National Military Park 5. Clinton Road Final Thoughts 1. Bonaventure Cemetery At first glance, you might think that Bonaventure is just another cemetery that might attract horror lovers at times. But trust us, you actually need to prepare yourself before you see the centuries-old tombstones that surround this historic site in Savannah, Georgia. Bonaventure Cemetery is an ancient, historic district that was once a privately owned cemetery. Even though this site attracts tourists with its beautiful nature and architecture, to this day, multiple people have reported unusual occurrences, such as the sounds of children and barking dogs, even when no one is around. As visitors claim, you should definitely consider going around the graves of Gracie Watson or Kehoe House – children who died in the 19th century but whose ghosts never left the Bonaventure Cemetery. 2. Lemp Mansion Besides cemeteries and battlefields, you can find numerous mansions and old houses in America that are considered haunted. Lemp Mansion in St. Louis, MO, is one of those mansions that still fascinates visitors with its eerie atmosphere. The main reason why this house is considered haunted is the history behind it – the tragic death of the Lemp family over 60 years ago. Almost a century ago, Lemps were important figures in the brewing industry. In the 1920s, the business began to decline. Not surprisingly for that period, this downturn made a few family members commit suicide. The first one among them was William Lemp who was followed by his son Billy. His brother, Charles, did the same later, along with a 13-year-old physically and mentally disabled brother. Today, Lemp Mansion is an inn and a restaurant and its visitors sometimes encounter the spirits of these 4 dead members of the Lemp family. 3. Bally’s Resort and Casino If someone asks you to name some of the most popular attractions in Las Vegas, chances are that you’ll name Bally’s Resort and Casino if you’ve ever gambled in this building. Everyone knows that Las Vegas is full of casinos and entertainment venues. But it turns out that horror enthusiasts either take pleasure in playing thrilling real casino games online or gamble at physical casinos that have a reputation for being haunted. Bally’s Resort and Casino is one of those haunted places in America. This casino was initially known as MGM Grand in the 1970s and attracted wealthy people from all over the US. But this was before a terrible incident happened – in 1980, faulty wiring started a fire in the building, which resulted in the deaths of 80 individuals. Today, visitors to this casino claim that from time to time they hear spooky noises and notice the spirits of the people who died on that day. That’s why Bally’s Resort and Casino is considered haunted. 4. Gettysburg National Military Park Considering the number of people who died at the Battle of Gettysburg during the American Civil War, it’s not really surprising that the National Military Park of Gettysburg is said to be haunted by the ghosts of soldiers. As a matter of fact, the Gettysburg National Military Park consists of numerous spots where paranormal activities occasionally take place. For example, there, you might encounter three disembodied heads. These hands belong to Confederate soldiers who died tragically on the battlefield. But other than these figures, sometimes you can even hear gunfire, shouts, and even the cries of wounded men. 5. Clinton Road One more scary place in America that usually fascinates horror lovers of various preferences is Clinton Road in West Milford, New Jersey. It’s a 10-mile-long road that isn’t anything special at first glance. However, the legend says that if you decide to race on this road, chances are that you won’t escape evil spirits and phantom headlights. Even more exciting about this haunted place is the rumor that after throwing a coin into the bridge at midnight, someone will throw this coin back at you. It’s hard to decide whether it’s true or not, but if you dare to explore this place, throwing a coin is worth it. Just remember to do it exactly at midnight. Final Thoughts It wasn’t easy for us to choose only 5 haunted spots for horror enthusiasts who plan their ghost-haunting trip in America. But at least, now you have a starting point for your adventure. Just keep in mind that although you might consider yourself brave enough to explore these eerie locations, we don’t recommend going to those spooky places alone. Who knows, maybe those ghosts are actually waiting for a brave person who can become a part of their company.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 34 min. ago MistStarz “Sweetie, dolls don’t move on ıt's own,” mother comforted her terrıfıed daughter. “So just sit sti̕ll while I stitch your prettɥ lıttle møuth up.”

July 1996 . Twins can be conjoined at the: Abdomen (omphalopagus). Chest (thoracopagus). Top of head down to the belly button, facing each other (cephalopagus). Head only (craniopagus). Pelvis, facing each other (ischiopagus). Pelvis, side-to-side (parapagus). Rump-to-rump (pygopagus). Vertebral column (rachipagus). Generally, parapagus are conjoined at the upper chest. Parapagus, united laterally, always share a conjoined pelvis with one or two sacrums and one symphysis pubis. Dithoracic parapagus is when the two chests are separated, and the fusion is confined to the pelvis and abdomen. Dicephalic parapagus is if there is the union of the entire trunk but not the heads. The heart, liver, and diaphragm are fused, but there is a duplication of the respiratory tract and upper digestive tract; the viscera organs are fused. There are two arms, two legs, and two complete vertebral column and spinal cord. The number of limbs varies from 4 to 7, rarely with four legs. Generally, each lung is present in a separate lung cavity. The fusion of lungs is very rare. The alignment of the conjoined pelvis is diagnostic-one complete pelvic ring, with a single anterior pubic symphysis, and with two laterally fused sacral bones, and predominantly only one rectum. Ischiopagi are united ventrally extending from the umbilicus down to a sizeable conjoined pelvis with two symphyses pubis and two sacrum. Craniopagus can be united at any portion of the skull except at the face and the foramen magnum. Pygopagus varieties are joined dorsally; sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions, sometimes even involving the spinal cord. Rachipagus twins are united dorsally above the sacrum. The union may also include the occiput. The cephalopagus varients are fused from the umbilicus to the top of the head. The pelvis and lower abdomen are usually not fused. Thoracopagus are united face-to-face from the upper thorax down till the umbilicus. Omphalopagus are primarily United at the umbilical region aligned face to face. The pelvis is not united. The pure parapagus is two heads, two hands, two legs, two hearts and two pairs of lungs. Conjoined twins are classified on the basis of the union's site, with the suffix pagus meaning fixed or fastened. The twins can have four (tetrapus), three (tripus), or two (bipus) legs. Cephalopagus: The twins often have a fused thorax in addition to a fused head. The single fused head may have two faces (janiceps) Cephalothoracopagus twinning is characterized by the anterior union of the upper half of the body, with two faces angulated variably on a conjoined head. The anomaly is occasionally known as janiceps, named after the two-faced Roman god Janus. The prognosis is extremely poor because surgical separation is not an option, in that only a single brain and a single heart are present and the gastrointestinal (GI) tracts are fused. Craniopagus: The conjoined twins share the skull, meninges, and venous sinuses Ischiopagus: The twins may lie face to face or end to end Pygopagus: The twins are joined dorsally, sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions Rachipagus: The twins generally have vertebral anomalies and neural tube defects. Thoracopagus: The twins lie face to face and share the sternum, diaphragm, upper abdomen wall, and liver and have an exomphalos

22 years ago, a 16 year old girl was pregnant with a baby. Understanding the circumstances, her parents told her to abort or be disowned. Her best friend - her 18 year old neighbour - although he was not the father, stepped into the father figures shoes. They got married 2 years later. Mom and Dad, your love for me, and for each other, GMH. Dec 1st, 2014

r/TwoSentenceHorror 26 days ago Prestigious_Salad_85 I screamed in excitement as I received an email stating that my application was accepted. The rest of my family cried out in despair knowing they weren’t selected to board the last ship leaving our dying planet behind.

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

In 1989 a woman gave birth to a girl who had down syndrome, and a hole in her heart and stomach. She died 3 years later. Her next child was miscarried. She got pregnant again and was told to have an abortion that refused even though she knew the risks were high for her and the baby. Here I am 14 years later, perfectly healthy. Mom, your LGMH Dec 1st, 2014

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴵ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴵ ᶠⁱˣ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃˢʰ‧ ᴵ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ‧ ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒʳ ᴵ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵃᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᵀᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ" ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃʳᶜᵃˢᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ ᴼᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ ᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴰᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵃˡᵐˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵘᵈᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗⁱᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ; ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧

Terms for the Mvrder of Loved Ones Amicicide: of one’s friend (amicus - friend) Avunculicide: of one’s uncle (avunculus - maternal uncle) Familicide: of one’s family (spouse and children) (familia - family) Filicide: of one’s daughter or son (filia - daughter; filius - son) Fratricide: of one’s brother (or sibling) (frater - brother; fratrem - sibling) Mariticide: of one’s husband (or spouse) (maritus - husband, spouse) Matricide: of one’s mother (mater - mother) Neonaticide: of one’s newborn child (neo - new; natus - born) Patricide: of one’s father (pater - father) Prolicide: of one’s offspring (proles - offspring) Senicide: of one’s elder (senes - elderly; senex - old man) Sororicide: of one’s sister (soror - sister) Uxoricide: of one’s wife (uxor - wife, spouse) Amiticide: of one’s aunt (amita - paternal aunt) Aniclicide: of one’s female elder (anicla - old woman) Avicide: of one’s grandparent (avia - grandmother; avus - grandfather) Conjicide: of one’s spouse (conjux, coniux - spouse, husband, wife) Nepticide: of one’s niece (nepti - niece)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

r/shortscarystories 10 hr. ago KieranWriter Family Photo The father stood at the front of the family photo and beamed a huge smile. The kids were seated in front of the father on little stools. His wife Deborah was at his side and he had his arms around her. The camera was an automatic one the father had set before quickly running to get in to the frame. Click. Big smiles. The father walked over to the camera. Just one more. Click. Big smiles. It was done. A perfect family portrait. Get this up in a frame and he can take it with him wherever he goes... The father put the kids to their beds and then his wife in front of the TV. It was Desperate Housewives; her favourite! It made the father smile. Don’t worry dear, I’ll do the dishes. I’ll load the washing. You just watch TV. The father was a perfect husband. He did everything that he said he would. A real whizz around the house. The house was sparkling by the time he had finished. There was a chime on Deborah’s phone. It was her sister Mary - Hey, not heard from you all day. You ok? Deborah won’t mind, I will just shoot off a short message so that Mary isn’t too alarmed. - Hey all good, just watching TV, really tired. Long day. Off to bed soon xx. It’s fine. They look at each other’s phones all the time. There’s trust in this relationship. A reply from Mary - OK call me tomorrow xx The father thought for a moment, just a moment, a flicker of worry, then replied - sorry better I don’t, I’ve caught a bad sore throat. The father went into the living room to Deborah and gave her a big kiss on the forehead... The next day, the father puts the frame up in the hallway, it will be the first thing that people will see when they walk into the house - the beautiful family, everybody’s dream... Then he spent about an hour mowing the lawn. After everything around the house was sorted, the father knew he could relax, finally relax and that the pressure was on for anything unexpected visits, so they don't walk into a dirty home... He got into the car and took it out of the garage, turned it around and hit the road heading out of suburbs and through the city. He loved his family, he really did, but sometimes a man needs a change and this father needs a fresh start. It wasn’t his first change of scenery. He looked at the copy of the picture of his wife and kids on the dash board and he felt a stab of pain... If only he had taken that picture when they were still alive...

Mary had a little lamb It's fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went That lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day That was against the rules, It made the children laugh and play But soon they felt like fools. Mary’s corpse was in a room And oh, what a scene! The kids saw her coated in blood And regretted being mean. Soon the police arrived Stepped over Mary’s heart, And tried to ask everyone How she was ripped apart. But when nobody knew The origins of all the gore, The police decided That it was time to go hardcore. And so everyone was dragged To detectors so they can’t tell a lie But everybody refused to tell Why Mary had to die. Suspects were jailed everywhere Tom, Barb, and Sam Because not a single person knew The murderer was the lamb. June 21, 2017 hellofinah