Grandpacore Emojis & Text

ʳ/ᵀʷᵒᔆᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉᴴᵒʳʳᵒʳ ³ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴿᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿᴵˡˡ⁷¹⁰⁷ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ᶜˡᵃⁱᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵘⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢ "ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧"

⚙🚉🏈⛳☃️🧩🐦

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Family Secret The red-headed girl in the summer dress stepped into the old man’s room. When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, she cleared her throat. The man looked up from the puzzle he was building, gasping and clutching his chest when he saw the child, “Autumn?” he whispered, “Is that really you?” “Hello, Grandpa,” Autumn smiled. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Autumn crossed the room until she was standing in front of her grandfather. “I’m here because I need your help,” she replied. The grandfather stared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to his puzzle. “There’s nothing I can do to help you,” he said. “That’s a lie and you know it,” Autumn snapped at him. “Please go,” he whined, “You shouldn’t be here.” “I’ve got nowhere else to go,” Autumn said, “That’s why I need your help.” The grandfather ignored her, reaching a remote on the table next to his puzzle. Once it was in his hand, he pressed the large button to call the nurse. A minute later, one of the nurses walked into the room. “What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” the nurse asked. “I would like her to leave,” he pointed at Autumn. “You’d like who to leave?” the nurse looked around the room, “There’s nobody in here but you.” “You know she can’t see me,” Autumn said, “Only you can because you know what happened to me.” “No,” her grandfather shook his head, “No, I don’t.” “Are you okay, Mr. Sinclair?” the nurse asked, “Should I call your son?” “No,” he snapped, “Don’t call him. I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” “I’m positive,” he insisted, “You can go.” “Okay,” the nurse turned and left the room. Autumn stood there, staring at her grandfather. “Stare all you like,” he said, continuing to work on his puzzle, “I can’t help you. In a rage, Autumn swept the half-finished puzzle off the table. “If you ever want to see Grandma again, you’ll do the right thing and help me,” she spat the words out. Tears started to fall from his eyes. Seeing his resistance starting to crack, Autumn continued. “You’ll never get to if you don’t tell someone what happened to me.” “But I didn’t have anything to do with it,” her grandfather insisted, “Your father is the one who needs to confess, not me.” “What did my father do to me?” Autumn whispered. Her grandfather poured his heart out, telling her everything that happened to her. “I’m sorry,” were the last words he said. “That’s all we wanted to hear,” the girl pretending to be Autumn reached up and pulled the wig off her head. A moment later the nurse walked back into the room, but she wasn’t really a nurse. When she returned to the room, she had a police badge hanging around her neck. “That was an Oscar-worthy performance,” she said, putting her arms around the girl’s shoulders and leading her into the hall.

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.

⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⠩⢤⣶⡤⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡇⠺⠏⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠻⣿⠟⠀⢚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⢛⣛⣛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣄⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣉⠥⢤⣬⣀⣉⣙⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡡⠶⡟⠋⣭⠛⡟⠛⠿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣡⠆⠁⠀⢠⡟⡝⣩⡍⡛⡟⠙⠲⢄⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢡⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣠⡀⠀⠹⢦⣤⡴⠃⠀⢔⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⡉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣧⡁⠉⠅⣡⠇⠀⠀⢀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⢩⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣔⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣛⡻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠁⠀⣀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣮⣥ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⡁⣀⣈⣩⠝⢉⡻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⡭⢤⣶⣬⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣥⠀⠙⠿⠃⢀⣲⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣉⡛⠻ ⣿⣄⣀⡛⠁⢀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⡀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⡀⠐⠀⡴⢋⡉⢿⡁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣤⠤⠤⣤⡤⣀⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⢧⣈⣍⡸⠃ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⣾⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠛⢀⡇⠀⠈⢙⣷⣿⣿⣷⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴ ⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣟⣚⣀⣀⣀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠀⢀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⣾⣿ ⡿⠋⠤⠶⠀⢀⡙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿ ⠀⡴⡻⡋⠓⡄⠈⠉⠒⣝⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⣉⣤⣤⣤⣀⡉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣿ ⠀⢧⡁⠛⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢈⡼⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⡿⠃⠐⢉⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠂⠠⢤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣶⢾⠛⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠐⢀⠔⠋⠁⢰⡟⠡⢒⣒⠤⡄⣀⣀⣀⠉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣊⠑⠲⠚⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⢴⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠃⠹⠿⢁⢁⣿⠀⠀⠉⠹⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣑⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠶⣤⣥⠤⠞⠃⠀⠀⠐⠀⣪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡄⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢴⣶⠊⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣦⣬⡁⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠋⠙⢋⣛⣛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⣁⣤⡤⠦⠀⠤⢤⣄⣀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣤⣤⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢀⢠⠴⣶⣭⣭⣯⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢁⠴⠋⠁⡞⠀⢢⣤⡄⡀⢳⠈⠙⠷⣤⡀⠉⢻⣿⣿⣽⠀⠈⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣄⣬⠿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠈⠉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠄⠀⠀⠀⢧⡀⠘⠛⡃⢁⡾⠀⠀⠀⠈⠟⢶⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡇⢀⢀⡼⠞⠉⣠⣤⠴⠶⠶⠤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠤⠴⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⣴⡽⠋⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣧⣪⣦⣀⣀⠀⠀⢂⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⡾⠋⠁⠀⢠⡟⠀⢀⠜⢀⣠⣀⠈⢤⠀⠈⣷⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡕⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⡟⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠈⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⠄⠀⣿⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠢⡈⠛⠋⢀⡔⠀⠀⡟⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢣⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⣄⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⠶⠶⠒⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⠷⠒⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⢠⡤⠀⠀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⢠ ⣿⣁⡤⠎⠁⠀⠀⡞⠀⣵⡇⡌⡇⠉⠐⠠⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⡉⣁⡱⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⣀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⣴⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠈⢿⣷⠒⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣀⣤⣤⣀⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿

“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✿༻

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

Mᴀʀʟᴀ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʜᴀs ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴏғ Rɪᴠᴇʀ Fᴀʟʟs, ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢ ᴄɪᴛʏ. Oɴᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ sʜᴇ ғɪɴᴅs ᴀ sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ ɴᴀᴍɪɴɢ ɪᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ. Tʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ʙᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʜɪssɪɴɢ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ Mɪsᴛʏ ᴄᴀʟᴍ. Tʜᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴀᴡᴏᴋᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴡʜᴇɴ Mɪsᴛʏ sɪᴛs ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ sᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀs. Tʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜ ᴅɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ғᴇʟᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙʀᴜsʜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴇɢs. Sʜᴇ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛʀɪᴘs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴs. As ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs, Mᴀʀʟᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛs ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʟʏ. Sʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇs ᴛᴜɴᴀ ᴄᴀssᴇʀᴏʟᴇ. Aᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, sʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀs ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs, ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀs ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ɴɪɴᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇs. Tʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, sʜᴇ's ᴜɴᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ. Lᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴜᴘ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ʀɪᴅ ᴏғ Mɪsᴛʏ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ sʜᴇʟᴛᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴏᴍᴇ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʙᴜs ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟɪɴɢ ғᴀʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴘᴜᴛs Mɪsᴛʏ's ᴄᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsᴋᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ʙɪᴋᴇ. Wʜɪʟᴇ Mᴀʀʟᴀ sᴛᴏᴘs ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ, Mɪsᴛʏ ɪs ʀᴜɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ, ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇᴅ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴇᴍɪɴɢʟʏ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀsᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴅᴇᴍɪsᴇ. Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ Mᴀʀʟᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪᴠᴇs ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ...

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

ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᴼⁿᵉ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᴳᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ʳ/ˢʰᵒʳᵗˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿᵂᵉˡˡ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᴼⁿᵉ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ “ᴴᵒⁿᵉʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧” ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃʳᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵒˡᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇⁱᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴮˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰᵉˢ‧ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴬ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ ᴬ ˢⁱᵍⁿᵉᵈ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵈᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵇᵒʷˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷᶜᵃˢᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵃᶜʰ ʳᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᴮᵃᵇʸ ᴿᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒ ᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵃʳ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ! ᴬ ᴹⁱˡᵏʸ ᵂᵃʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵃ ᴷⁱᵗ ᴷᵃᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ! ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵘˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ! ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵃᶜʰ ᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘʳⁿᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵒⁿⁱᶻⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵃʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵃᵇ ʰⁱˢ ʷʳⁱˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᶜᵒˡˡⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʷᵒ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵒᵃ! ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢⁱᶻᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ?” “ᴵˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ?” “ᵂʰʸ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧”

I ʜᴀᴅ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ. Wᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ. Mʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ sᴀᴅɴᴇss. Eᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ I ᴅᴜɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛʀᴇᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅs ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡʜᴇɴ I sᴀᴡ ᴀ sᴛɪʟʟʙᴏʀɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪғɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡʙᴏʀɴ ᴡʜᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ. I ᴛʜᴇɴ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪɴ ᴀs ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜ.

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

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

‘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...

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

StressedAfraid_ My husband and I watched our daughter play in the park. We knew she was the perfect one to take home.

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..."

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..."

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🗝 🔦 🗝 | ⏳ 👁 ⏳ | 🗝 🔦 🗝

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

ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵂᵉⁱʳᵈ⁻ᴺᵉᵖʰᵉʷ “ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡᵉʳ?” ʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ “ʸᵉᵃʰ‧‧‧” ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʷᵒ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᴱᵃʳᵗʰ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ʷᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧

Wʜᴇɴ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜʏ I ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, I ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜʏ. As ʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇɴᴇᴅ, I ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛᴛᴇᴅ sʜᴏᴡɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴀs I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴏɴᴇ...

💓●💜❤ӄɨʟʟɛʀ❤️💜●💓

t̫͍̥͉̳ͅa͙̲ke̹͇͘ ͇̦̲̤͙m̠͡y̧̗̦̪̣͖̣ ͉͍̬̘͡h͔̭ͅa̹͔̯͖̯͉͔͠n̳̭̬̬̼̞̲d͔̹̰͈

Rowlie from on BoredPanda.com ↓ ↓ It's freezing and dark, the constant movement is making me nauseous, everything hurts, I'm lonely and scared I wish I didnt' ask for my ashes to be spread into the ocean...

🥩★彡ω1єя∂¢σяє彡★🥩

🥀 🩸 🔪 🥀 🩸 🔪 🥀 🩸

⛓ 🩸 ⛓ 🩸 ⛓ 🩸 ⛓ 🩸

░░░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

ᴸᵃᵗᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵒᵒʳ ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠˡᵒᵒʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶠᵘˡˡ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧” ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢᵉ‧ “ᴺᵒ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ’ˡˡ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵍᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴹᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵉʳʳⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳᵃˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵘᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ‧ [ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᶜᵃʳʸ ᔆᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʳᵏ⸴ ᵇʸ ᴬˡᵛⁱⁿ ᔆᶜʰʷᵃʳᵗᶻ]

ᴳᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾᵃ‧ "ᔆᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ 'ᵉᵐ⸴ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ‧ ᵂᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ ʳᵉᶜᵏᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴴᵉʳᵉ—" ᴹᵃ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵒˡᵈ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ⸴ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱʳ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ʰᵉⁱʳˡᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐʸˢᵗᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉ‧ ᴰʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵉʷˡʸ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷᵉᵈ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵒⁿ‧ "ᴮᵒʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ‧‧‧" ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵇᵒʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˡʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴸᵒᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧

🥩🍖💊🧸💌🌙🌈🧪👁️🩸🥩🍄🩺🖥️🏴 ☠️📓✒️🕷️☎️🔗⛓️⛓🖇️📷🌙🪐🍥🍓

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.

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.

👞 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒐 ! ⊹₊ ꒷꒦꒷⸝⸝ 🍂 ꒰ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ﾐ ᴀɢᴇ 」ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴ𝗌 #𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻 ⇣ 𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆 🍁 ﾐ 🥮 [α𝖼𝖼] [α𝖼𝖼] ╰────────╮ bio credits // m14!!

ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵐʸᵈᵃᵈˢⁿᵃᵐᵉⁱˢʰᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵍᵍ ʰᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᴵ ʰⁱᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷ ˢᵖⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧

ʀ/TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ 5 ʜʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Pɪsᴛᴀᴄʜɪᴏ_Mᴜsᴛᴀʀᴅ Wʜᴇɴ I ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴɪᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ I ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴏᴘs ᴛᴏ ғʟᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Iᴛs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁱˢ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵃ ˢˡⁱᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖⁱᶻᶻᵃ ᶠˡᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱᶻᶻᵃ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ'ˢ ᴹᵒˡᵉᶜᵘˡᵉ ᴰᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵒʳ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᵇᵒᵈʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵈᵉˢᶜʳⁱᵇᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵒᵘˢ‧ ᵁⁿˡⁱᵏᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵐˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱᶠⁱᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ⁽ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ⁾ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶻᵒᵒ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧ ᴬᵘᵗʰᵒʳ⁽ˢ⁾ ᴿ‧ᴸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱⁿᵉ

ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧‧‧ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ! ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᴹᵃᵃˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵒᶠ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢⁱᵍⁿᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ᵇᵃˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒʳᵗˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ‧ ᴸⁱᶻ ˢʰᵃʳᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ "ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ" ᵃˢ ⁿᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ'ˢ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ "ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ" ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᴶᵃⁿ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵈᵉᶜˡⁱⁿᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸⁱᶻ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉˢ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉ‧ ᴶᵃⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷⁱᵐˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴶᵃⁿ'ˢ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᶠˡⁱᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᶜᵘᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵛᵃⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ˢⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ˢʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᶠˡᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉˢ‧‧‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵇⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘⁿᵏ⁻ᵐᵃᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᶻᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶠᵉʷ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸⁱᶻ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᵛⁱˢᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᵗᵒᵖ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵗᵒʳᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴶᵃⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ⸴ ˢᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢʷⁱᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗᵒʳᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵛᵃⁿⁱˢʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴸⁱᶻ‧ ᵂᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᴸⁱᶻ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗᵒ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵐᵉᵉᵗˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᴸⁱᶻ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ˢᵏⁱ‧ ᴬˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ˢᵏⁱⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʰⁱᶜˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷ⁻ʳᵒᵖᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ˢⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵗ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉˡʸ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ʷⁱˢʰᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵘᶜᵏ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵇʸ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈˡʸ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉˢ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ˡᵘʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ‧ ᴬ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᶜᵒⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘᵈᵈⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʷᵃⁱˡˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵖᵃˢˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴬᵘᵗʰᵒʳ⁽ˢ⁾ ᴿ‧ᴸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱⁿᵉ

Gᴏ ᴛᴏ TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ ʀ/TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ 6 ʜʀ. ᴀɢᴏ SᴜᴠᴇɴPᴀɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ's ᴘᴀʀᴀᴄʜᴜᴛᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ғɪɴᴇ.

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.

‘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.

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

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.”

https://creepyspooketty.fan dom.com/wiki/Rules

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.

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...

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.

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

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

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

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

r/shortscarystories 23 hr. ago captain-howdy2323 Unknown Stranger Oh my! I can hear him moving around down stairs. Can I remember if I heard him come inside? Idk. I must have because I've armed myself. I cower away in this closet. But I can't remember any of that. I must be in shock. Oh my heart is racing. I hear him coming up the stairs. It won't be long until he finds me. I can already see what everyone will be saying. "Man found in house", "The bloodbath". He's right outside the room. I'm breathing so heavily. I'm sure he can hear me. Please, stop shaking. Please, nerves calm down. He's opening the door. This is it. Finally. I've been waiting in his closet for hours.

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

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."

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.

“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

🔵 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. 🔵

https://en.illogicopedia.org/wiki/Flipped_text

Pᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴs. Pᴇʀsᴏɴɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ɴᴏɴ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ's, ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴ-ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ. Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ's ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴄᴀʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ғʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ. Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ᴍᴀʏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴡɪsᴛ. Hᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴘs: ~Pʀᴏғᴀɴɪᴛʏ. Cᴀɴ sᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴏʜ ᴅᴇᴀʀ' ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ. ~Gᴏʀᴇ, ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀʏ ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ. ~Aɴɪᴍᴀʟs. Cᴀɴ ʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢ ɢʀᴏᴡʟs ᴀᴛ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ɢʜᴏsᴛ' ~Sᴇʟғ ʜᴀʀᴍ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sᴀᴄʀɪғɪᴄᴇ ᴏɴᴇsᴇʟғ. ~Aʙᴜsᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ) ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴀʙᴅᴜᴄᴛ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ~Sᴛᴇʀᴇᴏᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘs (ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴛɪᴇs, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴs, ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇs, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴀs ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛғᴜʟ) Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴜsᴇ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪsᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ) ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀsɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ғᴏᴇᴛɪᴄɪᴅᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ, ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ɪɴ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴsᴏғᴀʀ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴀɪɴs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ɢʟᴏʀɪғʏɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ, ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ᴏʀ ʙʏsᴛᴀɴᴅᴇʀ. Hᴀᴠᴇ ғᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs!

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..

weirdcore: 😵‍💫🤡💀👾🦷🫀🫁🧠🐱🍄🌻🌞🌚🥓🥩🍖🦴🎪♟🗿🏤💽📼📷🎥☎️📺🕰💡🕯⛓🔪🚬⚰️🪦🏺🧿💊💉🩸🧸🖼💌📅✂️🖍🔆🃏 kidcore: 😋😛🤪🤩🤡👽👾👑🦄✨🌈🍉🍓🍒🍟🍨🧁🍭🍬🍫🍩🍪🍼🧃⚽️🛼🎪🧩☎️⏰🔮🧸🎁🪄📚🧮🖍💘🃏 altcore: 🤬👿💀🦇🕷🕸🍮🥛☕️🎲💻⛓💣🔪🚬⚰️🪦📰📓🖋🖤💔🔞👁‍🗨🏴‍☠️🏁 clowncore: 🤡👑🦄🌺🌈🍭🍬🍼🎪🎭🎨🎬🎡🎢🎠🎀💓 traumacore: 🤬🥴🤮🤧🤕👊💋🩲👙🩱🌈💦🍌🍒🍑🍆🥒🥩🍖🦴🍦🧁🍰🍭🍩🍪🥛🧃🩰🚔🎠🏚🏩💒🌠🎇🎆💻📸☎️📺⏰🕯⛓🔫🧨🪓🔪🚬⚰️🪦🏺🩹💊💉🩸🧬🌡🛁🛏🧸🛍🎀🪄💌📆📚📎✂️🖍❤️‍🩹✝️💬🗯

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

𓏲 　🍼　ﾟ⠀⠀ ･₊ ˚ ⠀ ࿐ 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 ♡ 　ɞ ⠀⠀ ⠀ . 　🌸　⋆༉

🏩🦷💊🌸🧸💉🩹🔪

┣▇▇▇═─

r/2sentence2horror 3 days ago CreativestName69420 There are approximately 100,000,000,000,000 cells in your body. Now 99,999,999,999,999, now 99,999,999,999,998, now 99,999,999,999,997, now 99,999,999,999,996…

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

🔪🩸💉:)

🍨🐾🪚🍰🏥🩺🩹💉🍧💊🎀🏩🍓🌀

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

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

Cͨaͣrͬdͩiͥoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ dͩiͥs͛eͤaͣs͛eͤ oͦrͬ hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ aͣᴛⷮᴛⷮaͣcͨᴋⷦs͛). нⷩeͤmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf вⷡloͦoͦdͩ). Noͦs͛oͦcͨoͦmͫeͤрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪoͦs͛рⷬiͥᴛⷮaͣls͛). Рⷬhͪaͣrͬmͫaͣcͨoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣᴛⷮiͥoͦn). ᴛⷮoͦmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣl рⷬrͬoͦcͨeͤdͩuͧrͬeͤs͛ liͥᴋⷦeͤ s͛uͧrͬgeͤrͬiͥeͤs͛). ᴛⷮrͬaͣuͧmͫaͣᴛⷮoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf iͥnjuͧrͬy).

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July 9, 2013 | Sleep Talking Sleep talking involves unconscious talking during sleep. Sleep talking varies in content and presentation, ranging from mumbling, gibberish, and nonsensical words to coherent. Sleep talking can be spontaneous, but may also be induced by some else who talks with them while asleep. This nocturnal language can even sound different from their wakeful speaking voice! The content of sleep talking can be completely random, but it may also be related to past or present daytime experiences. Decoding it can be impossible (or not even necessary) as sleep talking happens out side of conscious awareness. Sleep talking can happen at any time during the night and during any stage of sleep. In the earlier part of the night, people tend to be more in the deeper stages of sleep (Stage 3 or 4) and sleep talking may sound more like gibberish or mumbling. As the night progresses, sleep becomes lighter (REM sleep like Stages 1 and 2) and can be more understandable to a bed partner. Most sleep talkers won't remember a thing about their midnight murmurs — which, more accurately, can range from babbling to coherent sentences and even raised voice. Sleep-talking or somniloquy can range from random noises to complete sentences. It can also be brought on by stress or reacting to dream sequences.

Under the Covers Tonight's like every other night. You lay there, in the dark and silence, alone, with no company other than your thoughts. You shift and roll throughout your bed, just you and your thoughts. You ponder, you plan, and you fantasize; anything to distract from the ringing silence silence that surrounds you. You hear a creak, a common sound to hear on such a still night, but you still recoil when the sound hits your ears. You hear this sound almost every night, but the sheer unexpectedness sets off a trigger in your head as paranoia takes over. The thoughts that once illuminated your mind are now darkened. What was once pleasure and success has now turned to demons and killers The silence that your mind was distracting you from has now become the focus. You lay there, silent, listening for any obscure sound, hoping that the silence doesn't leave. Every little noise adds to your paranoia and the silence lingers as you await the next unexpected occurrence. You're too afraid to open your eyes at the thought of seeing anything your mind can conjure. You lay there, alone in fear. The fear builds in your mind as you try to find a quick escape from anything it creates. You revert to your childhood solution, hiding under the covers. You pull the blanket over your head and lay in silence. You hear noises, but they don't seem as scary. You figure if they can't see you, you're safe. The heat builds up under your blanket, but you put up with it simply for the comfort it supplies. You begin to calm down and relax, and revert back to your usual logical self. It's just you and your thoughts again, alone, under your blanket. You think of how silly it was to get so scared and worked up over a silly, little noise. Eyes closed, you lift the blanket off of your face as the built up heat is released. You breathe a sigh of relief and roll over, only to hear a deep, grating voice whisper, "Oh, there you are," sound of footsteps creeps toward your bed. " as the

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.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago CenturyCoal I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box the bear should have said 'i love you' not 'let me out'

AGES 2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Under 25 No screening Pap test every 3 years 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

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.

♥︎˙ᵕ˙🔪☹️

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.”