Horrorposters Emojis & Text

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

new 恐怖片恐怖故事恐怖灵异 horrorposting kǒngbù guǐgùshì 괴담 horrorverhaal horrortörténet 恐怖

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

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

new timecore shockcore airplanecrashcore familycore glasscore terrorwave twistedcore

“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

new horrorposting girlfriendcore familycore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
58 min. ago
drrkorby


“These nasty vermin destroy everything they get into, and even soil their own nests.”

“We must stop now these “humans”, as they call themselves, before they infest our home” pleaded the president of the Galactic council.

new peoplecore horrorpost horrorbuff hometowncore

r/TwoSentenceHorror

5 hr. ago

nohemi_trevino

My friend was extremely grateful when 

I gifted her a huge pack of moisturizing 

lip balms for Christmas.

Her mouths had been looking chapped recently, and if they felt 

uncomfortable at all, they might start eating her as punishment.

new christmascore horrorpost reddit diprosopus facecore makeupcore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
18 min. ago
LilxxBlueskies

I always thought i hallucinate a lot...

Until my sister said she saw them too

new horrorpost demoncore schizocore

..._...|..____________________, ,
....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = 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!

new lovecore livecore excore familycore riskycore boyfriendcore girlfriendcore lifecore

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)

new oldcore agecore grandparentcore familycore mathcore centenarianism

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.

new familycore twistedcore carcrashcore ghostkin revengecore obsessivecore excore loricore jackcore lilycore lostcore my family

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

new amicide murdercore familycore https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_types_of_killing

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░
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░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░
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▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░

I 🤍 DAD

new dadcore familycore

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

new lgmh boyfriendcore familycore lovecore LoveGivesMeHope

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.

new horrorbuff twistedcore mothers illness

WHISPERS

@scarystoriesargh



My best friend confided in me one day about one of her worries. She told me about how, in the middle of the night, she would keep hearing whispers in her bedroom. These whispers would repeat the same number over and over, but each night the
number would become one lower. 
A few weeks later, on a Tuesday my friend told me that the numbers were getting lower and lower. It was due to be the number seven that night. My friend had no idea what those whispers were counting down to, but she told of how anxious she had been feeling ever since the whispers started several
months ago. It's Wednesday today. My friend isn't in school. She didn't tell me
that she was going to be absent. And then I realise. Last night, the voices would have been whispering the number Zero..

new horrorbuff schoolcore whispers

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.

new horrorbuff twistedcore the lights

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‧

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

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Repost this If you miss
someone right now.

July 27, 2015

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 What’s in the basement?

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓

Mommy told me never to go in the basement, but I wanted to see
what was making that noise. It kind of sounded like a puppy, and I
wanted to see the puppy, so I opened the basement door and tiptoed
down a bit. I didn’t see a puppy, and then Mommy yanked me out of
the basement and yelled at me. Mommy had never yelled at me
before, and it made me sad and I cried. Then Mommy told me never
to go into the basement again, and she gave me a cookie. That made
me feel better, so I didn’t ask her why the boy in the basement was
making noises like a puppy, or why he had no hands or feet.

new horrorbuff horrorposting bodyhorrorcore boycore puppykin ameliacore basementcore what's in the basement?

         __________
       [___________]
        |      . - .       |
        | , ( o . o ) . |
        |   > | n | <   |
        | `    ` " `   `  |
        | POISON!  |
        `  " " " " " " " `

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Jessica
by reddit user Breakevencoast5  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓

My soul mate left me today. All that's left of him now, is pairs of sock that probably fell out of his suitcase, and a note labelled "Read Me" that I found on the kitchen
counter, picked it up and started to read. “just can't take it anymore. Jess, you know love you, and I always will, but over the last few months things have gotten bad for me. Yes, it's her. She's following me again and I'm scared that if she found you she'd kill you. I'm sorry, I wish I could go into more detail, but you be home in a few minutes, and I don't want to have to tell you
any of this to your face. It would destroy me to see you cry. - David.” Suddenly the front door creaked open. Instinctively, grabbed a knife off of the knife
rack and ran into the pantry. "Hello?" Called a woman from the entrance way. I didn't answer. Instead, I cracked
the pantry door open just enough to see the note on the counter.
"Anyone in here?" She yelled, walking closer to the kitchen. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped
into the kitchen. There was a small Swiss army knife in her hand. She picked up the note and started to read. Within seconds she started crying
hysterically. The woman fell to her knees and dropped the knife. lignored every logical though in my brain, kicked the door open and thrust the knife
into her stomach.
"Welcome home Jessica" I said, twisting the knife with a bright smile on my face.

new horrorkin reddit

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

new girlcore familycore romancecore femalekin romanticise

 ‘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.

new horrorbuff horrorposting ylim3

The Light by Theshadowsyoufear

“Your true monsters sleep
just down the hall…”

We make fun of little kids for one thing; 
leaving lights on everywhere. They turn 
lights on in every room as if it’s some sort 
of security blanket. And if you ever force 
them to turn them off, they cry and scream and 
eventually you give in.
The only time they turn them off is with their parents. They feel safe. So very safe. 
I’m the “monster” that lives in your closet.
I’m friends with the one under your bed and the one in the shadows.
When you see us, you flee to you’re mommy and daddy.
But we’re not here to hurt you.
We’re here to protect you.
If you think we’re scary, just wait till you see their true form. They masquerade as one of you and you can never tell. You humans must be blind. Your true monsters sleep just down the hall.
They pretend to love you but 
It won’t last. They try to convince us to let them in but don’t worry, we really love you and we will protect you.
So when you see a shadow flit or a figure in the closet, remember, we scary monsters protect you from the human ones.
So you’re safe with us… For now.

new monstercore monsterkin kiddiecore horrorbuff

Pretending to be asleep doesn’t work

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓

A young boy is sleeping in his bed on a usual night. He hears
footsteps outside his door, and peeks out of his eyes to see what is
happening. His door swings open quietly to reveal a mvrderer
carrying the bødies of his parents. After silently propping them up
on a chair, he writes something on the wall in the bløød of the déád
bødies. He then hides under the child's bed...
The child is scared beyond relief. He can’t read the writing on the
wall and he knows the man is under his bed. Like any child, he
pretends that he slept through the whole thing and hasn’t awoken
yet. He lays still as the bodies, quietly hearing the breathing from 
under the bed...
An hour passes, and his eyes are adjusting more and more to the
darkness. He tries to make out the words, but it’s a struggle. He gasps
when he finally makes out the sentence...
“I know you’re awake”. He senses something shift underneath his bed...

new horrorbuff horrorposting bodyhorrorcore bedcore pretending to be asleep doesn't work

Go to TwoSentenceHorror
r/TwoSentenceHorror
13 hr. ago
Tasty_Freedom459


Being the first person on the moon is such a amazing experience
Being the first forgotten, not so much

new mooncore astronautcore horrorbuff sadcore TwoSentenceHorror

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...

new familycore twistedcore horrorposting ✨ horrorbuff

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.

new familycore smscore smartphowned

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

new papcore testcore viruskin femalekin abusecore abortioncore familycore healthcore pap

   _______
/    R.I.P.    \
|  Here lies |
|   NAME    |
|__________|

new deathcore dyingcore example sororicide assassination regicide matricide patricide infanticide tyrannicide murderess fratricide parricide filicide femicide

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."

new reddit blindcore familycore horrorbuff the blind child

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

new familycore cemeterycore st. mary's cemetery burials

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. 

new hamilton taxicore bikercore 1970s brothercore familycore

🔵
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.
🔵

new hoover tierney familycore

🧜‍♀️💦🫧🐚

new mermaidcore sirencore

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩ 
♡ "𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡." ♡. 
✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩ 

new livecore dyingcore heartcore lovecore memorycore

𝓡𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷'𝓼 𝓰𝓵𝓸𝓻𝔂 ♡♡♡

new heavencore religiouscore dyingcore

🧜🏾‍♀️🫧˳ ⊹.

new mermaidcore sirencore

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

new momcore blesscore blessedkin blessedcore familycore babywave unknown

r/TwoSentenceHorror
8 hr. ago
cruel_winter_soldier
⇩⇩⇩ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⇩⇩⇩

When I was young I wished Christmas would never end
Now I awake for the 100th day in the grinch’s torture chamber, begging the green fiend for a silent night.

new grinchcore holidaycore christmascore TwoSentenceHorror

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.

new chip off the old talks familycore

Edward Mordrake
Edward Mordrake, el hombre con dos rostros
Edward Mordrake era un inglés que tenía un rostro extra en la nuca. De acuerdo a las historias que se cuentan de él, el rostro no podía
hablar ni comer, pero podía reír y llorar. Edward suplicó a los médicos que le extrajeran este gemelo demoniaco porque, supuestamente, le susurraba cosas horribles en la noche, pero
ningún médico se atrevió a intentarlo.
Edward cometió suicidio a la edad de 23 años. En él se dice que Edward Mordrake era heredero de una familia noble de Inglaterra, su gemelo parasito era en realidad ella y hasta se
escribió una opera con su historia llamada "Poor Edward".
Además encontré este otro relato: "Una de las historias más raras así como de las más melancólicas de la deformidad humana es la de Edward Mordrake, quien iba a ser el heredero de una de las familias más nobles de Inglaterra. Sin embargo
nunca reclamó el título y se suicidó a los veintitrés años. Vivia en un retiro absoluto, evitando las visitas incluso de los miembros de su familia. Era un joven de grandes conocimientos, un buen estudiante y un músico de rara habilidad. Su figura era remarcable por su gracia natural, y su rostro -su rostro natural- era como el de Antinoo. Pero en la parte de atrás de su cabeza había otra cara, la de una chica muy guapa, "adorable como un sueño, atroz como un demonio". El rostro femenino era una mera máscara, "ocupando sólo una pequeña zona de la parte posterior del cráneo, aunque mostrando signos de inteligencia de aire maligno". Se la había visto sonriendo y burlándose mientras Mordrake lloraba. Sus ojos seguían los movimientos del espectador, y sus labios se movian sin cesar. La voz era inaudible pero Mordrake aseguraba que durante la noche no podia conciliar el sueño debido a los odiosos susurros de su "gemela diabólica" como él la llamaba, "que nunca duerme, pero que me habla de tales cosas de las que sólo se oyen en el infierno. La imaginación no puede concebir las tentaciones espantosas en las que me envuelve. Por alguna imperdonable maldad de mis antepasados estoy cosido a este demonio - porque estoy seguro que es un demonio. Yo ruego y suplico para que lo eliminéis del mundo, aunque yo muera". Estas eran las palabras del desventurado Mordrake a Manvers y Treadwell, sus médicos. Aunque lo vigilaban constantemente consiguió procurarse veneno, debido a lo cual murió, dejando una carta en la que pedía que la "cara demoníaca" fuera destruida antes de su funeral, "para que no continuase con sus espantosos susurros en la tumba". Por petición propia fue enterrado en tierra baldía, sin ninguna lápida o marca que dejara constancia
de su tumba."
Pobre Edward
¿Has oido lo que dicen de edward?

En la parte de atrás de su cabeza
Tenia otra cara
Era la de una mujer
O la de una joven.

Decían que quitársela lo mataria
Asi que el pobre edward estaba perdido

La cara reía y lloraba Era su hermana gemela malvada
Por las noches ella le hablaba
De cosas solo mencionadas en el infierno
Era imposible separarlos
Encadenados juntos de por vida
Al final, la campana dobló por su condena Alquiló unas habitaciones
Y se ahorcó con ella
De los barrotes del balcón
Algunos todavía creer que se liberó de ella Pero yo la conocia muy bien Y digo que le llevó al suicidio
Y se llevó al pobre Edward 

new Español | Spanish bodyhorrorcore polifacético

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.”

new dollkin dollcore familycore sitcore twistedcore terriblecore horrorbuff

https://m.webtoons.com/en/canvas/the-secert-formula/list?title_no=936232

new fanfictioncore bodyhorrorcore

Adrenal Gland Tumor(Pheochromocytoma)
Anosmia( Loss of Smell)
Athletes Foot( Tinea Pedis)
Bad Breath(Halitosis , Oral Malodor)
Bedwetting(Enuresis)
Bile Duct Cancer(Cholangiocarcinoma)
Blackheads(Comedones)
Bleedingnose(Nosebleed / Epistaxis)
Blepharospasm - Eye Twitching(Eye Twitching - Blepharospasm)
Bulging Eyes(Eye Proptosis | Exophthalmos)
Cephalgia(Headache)
Cheilitis | Chapped Lips
Conjunctivitis( Pink Eye)
Dry Skin(Xerosis)
Fasciculations(Muscle Twitching)
Fever(Pyrexia)
Gallstones(Cholelithiasis)
Herpangina (Painful Mouth Infection)(Mouth Blisters)
Itchy Skin(Pruritus)
Kinetosis(Travel Sickness / Sea sickness | Space sickness / Motion Sickness)
Nervous Tic(Trigeminal Neuralgia)
Ringworm(Tinea / Dermatophytosis)
Singultus(Hiccups , Hiccoughs , Synchronous Diaphragmatic Flutter (SDF))
Smelly Feet(Bromodosis)
Sneezing(Sternutation)
Stiff Neck(Neck Pain / Cervicalgia)
Stomach Flu(Gastroenteritis)
Strabismus|Squint
Utricaria(Hives)
Uveitis(Eye Inflammation)
Xerostomia(Dry Mouth)

new bodyhorrorcore healthcore eyecore legcore listcore synonyms

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 

new familycore healthcore surgerycore conjoint

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

new lgmh neighborcore familycore abortioncore gmh

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

new lgmh miscarriagecore abortioncore familycore gmh

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)

new murdercore familycore friendcore grandparentcore friendscore

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.

new familycore twistedcore wife

KAREN OF HAMPSHIRE

One Thursday in January 1991, 20 year old Karen became ill with sickness and diarrhoea. Although she was not aware of the connection, she was having a period and using tampons. She called the doctor who initially diagnosed gastro-enteritis and gave her some medicine. Karen continued vomiting, suffered severe diarrhoea and was in agony, and on Sunday the doctor suspected appendicitis and she was rushed to hospital. As she was severely dehydrated, Karen was immediately put on a drip, whilst the diagnosis was being made.
The next morning (Monday), Karen felt fine and was laughing and joking with her parents. However, her mother noticed that her breathing was laboured and that she had a red rash on her leg. But by 3 pm, Karen's condition worsened and she was given oxygen. By 9 pm she had lapsed into unconsciousness and transferred to Intensive Care. The medical staff did not know what was causing the problem, although toxic shock was considered. She had 15 tubes going into and out of her. At 10 pm Karen suffered a cardiac arrest, and the IC staff resuscitated her, but her condition was critical. At 1 am on the Tuesday morning, Karen had a last injection to stimulate her blood flow, and her parents were told that this was her last hope. Tragically, Karen died at 2.15 am.
Posted 30/12/2000

new karencore tamponcore tss

☢;;❝OН МY ĸΑREɴ. OН МY ĸΑREɴ. OН...МY COМPUТER WΙҒE ĸΑREɴ!❞ ⁽ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ⁾

new karencore planktoncore karen

🧪 || ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈˢˑ || ‎‍🧪

new karencore planktoncore plankton

The Never Ending Road.

In Corona, California there once was a road known by most of the elder locals as the never ending road. Specifically, the road’s true name was Lester Road.

However, over 70 years ago, Lester Road was an unlit road that people claimed became a never ending road when driven at night. The people who made such a drive were never seen or heard from again.

The legend became so well-known that people refused to even drive Lester Road during the day.

Perpetuation of the legend convinced local law enforcement to investigate around the 1960’s. Lester Road took a sharp left turn at it's end, and there were no guard rails. Beyond the curve lay a canyon, and on the other side of the canyon was another road 

that lined up so well with Lester Road that when viewed from the correct angle, especially at night, the canyon vanished from sight, and the road seemed to continue on up and over the hill on the other side of the canyon. Upon investigation of the canyon, dozens of cars were found, fallen to their doom, with the decomposing bødies of the victims still strapped to their seats.

Law enforcement tried to cover up their findings. They closed down Lester road, letting the trees grow where the road once stood and letting the bødies remain in their final resting place.

new roadcore californiacore carcrashcore doomerwave bodyhorrorcore horrorkin the never ending road

ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⠘ [ᵛⁱᵃ ᵐᵉᵍᵃᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ] ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ? 
ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵍⁱᵗⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᵈᵒᵒᶠᵘˢ!
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ⠘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿˢᵘˡᵗˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⠘ [ᵛⁱᵃ ᵐᵉᵍᵃᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ; ˢⁱᵍʰˢ] ᴼᵏᵃʸ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ 
ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ⠘ ᴳᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴴᵒⁿᵉʸ‧

new karencore viruscore viruskin plankbob honeycore karen's virus

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 hr. ago
PandorazPokemon

 ϟ ѕcrσll dσwn αll thє wαч

The young doctor frowned as he finished telling me the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes.

"That's alright," I said, as I eyed him up and down; "it's about time for a new body anyway."

new horrorpost cancercore bodyhorrorcore doctorcore horrorposting

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...

new familycore hometowncore horrorkin family photo

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.

new familycore pregcore twincore feticidal

CREEPYPASTA
ar	كريبي باستا
fa	کریپی‌پاستا
he	קריפיפסטה
ja	クリーピーパスタ
ko	크리피파스타
mk	Крипипаста
ru	Крипипаста
sr	Крипипаста
uk	Крипі-паста
zh_yue	恐怖意式麪

creepypastas

horror-related legends or images that have been copy-and-pasted around the Internet

Arabic
كريبيباستا
نوع من أنواع قصص الرعب

Bulgarian
крипипаста

Czech
creepypasta
výraz pro hororové pověsti nebo obrázky šířící se pomocí internetu

German
Creepypasta
Internetphänomen

Persian
کریپی پاستا
No description defined

French
creepypasta
légende urbaine diffusée sur internet

Hebrew
קריפיפסטה
אגדת אימה

Indonesian
creepypasta
cerita berbau legenda-horor atau gambar yang banyak disalin tempel di internet

Italian
Creepypasta
racconto horror

Japanese
クリーピーパスタ
インターネット上でコピー・アンド・ペーストを通じて流布している、恐怖を催させる説話や画像

Korean
크리피파스타
No description defined

Macedonian
крипипаста

Norwegian Bokmål
creepypasta
gufne historier som er spredd over internett

Dutch
creepypasta
horrorlegende die veelvuldig op internet gekopieerd en geplakt wordt

Polish
creepypasta
krótkie legendy lub ilustracje z dreszczykiem rozpowszechniane w Internecie

creepypastas
Portuguese
creepypasta
lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet

Brazilian Portuguese
creepypasta
lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet

creepypastas
Romanian
Pasta infricosatoare
No description defined

Russian
крипипаста
жанр интернет-фольклора

Serbian
Крипипаста
Страшни видео снимци са интернета

Turkish
Creepypasta
İnternet'te yayılan, korku içerikli efsaneler veya resimler

Ukrainian
Кріпі-паста
No description defined

Vietnamese
Creepypasta
Những câu chuyện ngắn kinh dị

Cantonese
Creepypasta
No description defined

Chinese (Taiwan)
蠕動義大利麵
No description defined

Traditional Chinese
蠕動意麵
No description defined

恐怖意麵Creepypasta
Chinese
蠕動意麵
No description defined

恐怖蠕動傳説

Spanish
Creepypasta
breves historias de terror

new creepypastacore internetcore japancore chinesecore italiancore bodyhorrorcore horrorbuff horrorkin horrorlegende hororové creepypasta

I was at my friends house, whose 5yr old little
brother died very recently due to a fire. He lived with his aunt and uncle. At dinner, his 4yr old
cousin blessed the meal. "Dear God, thank you for this meal. And I know your
keeping Brenden safe. Never stop playing with him.
Amen."
Little kids GMH

Mar 23, 2011 at 11:30pm by Carly, AR

new familycore kgmh gmh

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

Francis Edmund Bessette
Male 1904 - 1917  (~ 12 years)

Name	Francis Edmund Bessette 

Father	Augustin Seymour Bessette,   b. 1870,   d. 28 Aug 1948  (Age 78 years) 
Mother	Marie Louise Poulin 

Born	Jul 1904 	Richford, Vermont  
Gender	Male 
Died	1917 	Richford, Vermont

 	
The Bennington Evening Banner, Friday, October 10, 1919
Boy Suffocates In Elevator
Head Forced Between Knees When Caught in Pit by Descending Car

Richford, Oct. 8 ? Edmund (Edward?) Bessette, the 15-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Bessette, died of suffocation shortly after six o?clock tonight in a very unusual accident, his body being caught between the bottom of an elevator pit and the descending elevator, which forced his head between his knees and shut off his breath.
The accident happened as the lad went down to the basement of the Sweat Comings building for the purpose of getting some cracked ice to put in ice cream tanks for he Corliss Candy Kitchen where he was emplo9yed after school hours.
The buckets were filled with ice and it is supposed that the boy pulled the cable starting the elevator down and it pushed him under it. The accident was discovered when the boy failed to show up. H.H. Comings, first selectman, and Dr. R. M. Pelton were summoned and removed the body to the undertaking rooms of Powell & Comings, where and examination was held. No broken bones or even abrasions were discovered on the body and death was found due to suffocation.

Buried	All Saints Cemetery, Richford, Vermont

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

new familycore vermontcore bessette

Today my aunt found out she's having a girl 
She told me she was upset, I asked why She said "I don't think anyone can live up to be as great as you, but then I remember that she will have you to look up to and to become as
wonderful"
My aunts love for me GMH:)

Jul 15, 2013 at 4:00am by Ashley S

new lgmh familycore gmh

Yesterday I saw a mother and daughter studying
for a big test, and the daughter has a disability . A man at the restaurant paid for their dinner and said, " God bless you for taking the time and working with
YOUR daughter, and not paying someone else to do it".
Loving families like this GMH !

Mar 22, 2011 at 3:00am by Morgan E,
Nashville, TN

new yesterdaycore familycore gmh

❤ ✞ ❤ Rest in Heavenly Peace ❤ ✞ ❤

new martyrcore deathcore dyingcore funeralcore heavencore religioncore saintcore christiancore

🌑🌲💌🏹🦌🗝️

new goblincore fairycore sirencore forestcore mushroom cottage natural fairytale pastry village celestial fantasy chaoscore elements cottagecore

𓇼 ₊ ⊹ [name]

new mermaidcore oceancore sirencore coquette name nametag

𝐹𝑎𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ᥫ᭡.

new memorycore lovecore cemeterycore angelcore cancercore starcore dyingcore

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠐⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡿⠿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⡿⢿⣮⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⣿⣿⠟⠁
⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣭⡛⠛⠉⢉⣤⣶⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀
⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⣻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new mermaidcore mermaid siren sirencore oceancore beach girl barbie aegean sea enchantress freshwater damsel nymph femme fatale

🧜‍♀️🐬🏝💧🌊🐚

new aesthetic sea sirencore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
14 hr. ago
Techn0Cy


My stepson leaned towards me and asked, “Do I look human?”
It’s been 2 months since we’ve come to this planet so I told him he looked fantastic 
I’m so proud of him.

new horrorkin humancore planetcore alienkin

⚠🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️⚠

new ⚠ ⚠️ sirencore h2o sirenas del mar

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚

new angelcore memorycore cemeterycore dyingcore childbirthcore carcrashcore normcore

ꕤ*.ﾟ♡┊𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪, 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪. 𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪┊ ꕤ*.ﾟ♡

new religioncore memorycore lovecore martyrcore saintcore dyingcore deathcore cemeterycore

🧜‍♀🧜‍♀️️🫧💙

new sirencore mermaidcore

🧜🏽‍♀️🫧

new mermaidcore sirencore

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⢶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣟⡾⣿⣽⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⠀⠁⠀⠅⠀⠀⣿⣾⡍⢸⣷⠛⣀⣤⣤⣤⠀⣀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠘⢾⡃⢸⢋⣼⢟⣷⣻⣞⡿⣽⣷
⠀⢀⣴⡿⣷⢶⣤⣄⠀⠀⠁⠈⡘⠁⢀⣉⣩⢿⣽⢷⡇
⠺⢟⣯⣿⣽⣀⣀⣉⡁⠀⡀⠁⢀⣞⣫⣭⣽⣛⡚⠋⠁
⠀⠸⡟⠾⣓⣥⡶⠎⠁⢀⣀⡄⠀⠀⠈⣽⣯⢷⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣾⢯⣷⢿⣦⠀⣸⢸⣧⣀⣴⣄⣠⣿⣻⢾⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⢾⣻⣽⣻⢿⠘⣷⣯⣟⣾⣽⢾⡽⡟⠂⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⡽⣳⠿⠇⠀⠙⠺⠝⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new 2000s 2000's y2k mermaidcore mermaid siren sirencore oceancore beach girl barbie aegean sea enchantress freshwater damsel nymph femme fatale

What GENS are y’all? 🤨

Lost Gen – 1883-1900 😩 

Greatest Gen – 1901-1927 👵🏽👴🏾

Silent Gen – 1928-1945 🤫 

Baby Boomer Gen – 1946-1964 👩🏽‍🍼👶🏽👨🏾‍🍼
 
Gen X – 1965 - 1980 ❌ 

Millennial – 1981-1996 💎 

Gen Z – 1997-2012 💤

Gen Alpha – 2013 - present 🎁

new familycore listcore peoplecore gens

r/shortscarystories
3 yr. ago
deontistic

Unnatural Birth

ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ

There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance.

Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed.

I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın.

I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . .

I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

new familycore surgerycore reddit

r/shortscarystories
1 day ago
CBenson1273

My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother
My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad.

Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual.

So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow.

“Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!”

“I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.”

I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try.

The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered.

“There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!”

“Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.”

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!”

“Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?”

My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat.

“How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.”

“You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.”

“So you aren’t open to change, then?”

“Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.”

“Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

“Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat.

“Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.”

After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?”

“What needed to be done,” she replied.

“But what if they’d agreed to stop?”

“Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“

A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse.

“Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe.

“But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed.

“Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?”

“But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath.

“Then you should’ve done better,” I said

new familycore unaliving reddit

Go to shortscarystories
r/shortscarystories
3 days ago
CBenson1273

My Daughter Keeps Dying Over And Over Again

One day I was out watching my daughter ride her bike. I took my eyes off her for just a second and heard a loud horn - when I looked up, a car was speeding away and her broken body was laying in the street.

I must have called the police and my wife, but all I remember is sitting there, holding Maddie’s lifeless body. I vaguely recall a kind woman stopping, taking her hand, and saying “this is not the end” before walking away.

Then Maddie’s hand moved. Her eyes opened and looked at me.

“Daddy? What happened?”

The paramedics’ insisted that her injuries must not have been that severe; I’d just panicked and assumed the worst.

But I’d seen her, held her. She was dead.

Maddie’s mother tried to use the accident to revisit custody, but her claim went nowhere. Life went on.

The next week, I was caught in a traffic jam. Turns out a car had fatallƴ hit a phone pole.

The same car that hït Maddie.

A few months later, Maddie’s school called. She’d fallen off the jungle gym and landed head-first. When I arrived, the principal was waiting. She apologized, insisting it was an accident.

Maddie died at the hospital; the doctors said there was nothing they could have done. Her mother said I’d be hearing from her lawyer.

Later, as I sat with her, she twitched. Then she started breathing and reached for me.

The doctors were stunned. I wasn’t.

The following week, the news reported a student from Maddie’s school had fallen from the fourth floor of his apartment building. The same student who’d pushed Maddie from the jungle gym, despite what the principal had insisted.

That evening, Maddie asked me if “the angel” had done it. She spoke of a figure that had approached her after her accident. It had said “not yet” and touched her head and she’d awoken.

Touched. The woman who’d taken her hand at her accident. That had to be it.

I tracked her to the outskirts of town and demanded to know what she’d done. She revealed that, sensing my grief, she’d placed a spell that would bring my daughter back. But the cost was the life of whoever kılled her. A life for a life. Horrified, I left.

What did this mean? Would Maddie return every time she died?

Slowly, things returned to normal. There were no more “incidents”; I didn’t see the old woman again.

One night, the phone rang; it was my ex-wife. Surprising since we didn’t speak except regarding Maddie.

“Jack! It’s Maddie! She’s not breathıng!”

“WHAT I’m on my way!”

Everything was so hectic that she didn’t notice how quickly I arrived at the hospital.

Or that I wasn’t more distraught.

Or that Maddie was already dead.

If only she’d known about Maddie’s recently-revealed peanut allergy before she’d served those cookies.

I wasn’t worried - I knew Maddie would be fine..

Yet Carol wouldn’t be so lucky.

new dyingcore reddit maddie

r/shortscarystories
3 mo. ago
Intrepid_Wanderer

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ

Delivery Room

My grandparents were worried when I said I'd decided to get the tablet.

They're a bit old-fashioned, but they mean well. The thing is, it's 2084. 

Most people who can get the tablet just go ahead and accelerate 

through all nine months of pregnancy. The baby can be born as soon 

as the parents like- no need to endure mornıng sickness or false 

warnings for labor. And miscarriages are nearly a thing of the past- 

most babies are accelerated at the first warning. Medical technology 

is truly amazing.

Not everyone accelerates. Some people worry about those obscure 

studies on bonding ability in accelerated babies, some consider a 

"natural" course an unmissable experience and some just don't have 

access to it. Most of the time, though, people accelerate.

I was so excited to get to the hospital. I didn't even get an ultrasound 

done first- the test was positive, and I was about to see my baby 

anyway in a few minutes.

There were the occasional horror stories. Most of them were urban 

legends, tales of some quack who messed up and made horrific 

things happen. Truth was, there was very little to mess up, especially 

at a nice clinic like this one. With today's medications, I could 

expect to hardly feel the labor and go home with my family on the 

same day.

They said I'd feel a tingling in my abdomen, maybe even some light 

kicking. At first I did, but it was more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. 

It was like a twisting, stretching sensation inside of me. I hated to 

imagine what it might have been like if the tablet didn't also act as an 

aesthetic.

I tried to close my eyes and breathe through it. Something was 

soaking through the bed- must be my water breakıng. But it smelled 

metallic, and I was so dizzy. Why didn't I hear crying? Shouldn't it have 

worked by now?

Someone started shouting, but I couldn't open my eyes to see why. 

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was a doctor 

asking about ultrasounds and the words "ectopic pregnancy."

new familycore Science Fiction & Fantasy delivery room

BRAIN CHIP pt. 2
(By NEUROFABULOUS)

Plankton blinked, his breathing shallow.
For a moment, she saw the man she knew.
But it was fleeting. His gaze
shifted again, searching for something
that wasn't there. "Karen?" he asked,
his voice unsure. "Safe? Karen."

Karen felt a spark of hope, but it was
quickly extinguished when he began
to echo her words once more, his speech
still broken and erratic. "Safe," she
whispered, her voice barely above a
whisper. "You're safe, Plankton."

He nodded, his eye still not quite
focused on hers. "Safe," he echoed, his
tone softer now. "Safe, Karen." The
humming in his throat had ceased,
but his hands remained in a constant
flurry of movement, as if searching
for something only he could see.

"Yes, you're safe," she assured him,
her voice steady, trying to hold onto
the fragile thread of sanity that
was weaving through his words.
She took another tentative step closer,
hoping that physical proximity
would help ground him. "I'm here."

Plankton's hand reached out,
his movements less frantic now,
his voice still echoing hers, "Here. 
Karen, here. Say Karen."

Karen nodded, her voice a soft
whisper. "I'm here, Plankton."
The repetition seemed to soothe
his nerves somewhat. His breathing
evened out as he mirrored her words.
"Karen here. Here Karen."

Her hand hovered over his,
their fingers almost touching.
"You're ok," she said, willing both of
them to believe it. "You had a fall, but
you're ok now."

Plankton's hand stopped moving
for a moment, his eye focusing
on hers. "Ok," he murmured.
"Fall." The echo was faint,
but it was a start.

Karen took a deep breath,
her heart pounding in her chest.
"You're ok," she said again,
hoping the repetition would
bring him back to her. "You
fell, but you're ok."

Plankton's hand twitched,
his eye flickering with a spark
of something that resembled
understanding. "Ok," he echoed,
his voice softer. "Fell. Ok." He
started to rock again.

Karen watched him, her mind racing.
What was happening to her husband?
The fall had changed him, his speech
reduced to echoes and fragments.
Was it a concussion? Shock?
Or was it something more serious?

Her eyes searched his, looking for
any sign of the man she knew, but
his gaze remained distant, lost in
his own thoughts. "Plankton," she
said, her voice filled with love
and concern. "Look at me."

He blinked, his eye flicking up
to meet hers barely before he
averted her gaze. "Karen,"
he murmured, the word a question
and a statement, disliking eye
contact.

Karen felt a surge of panic,
but she pushed it down, focusing
on keeping her voice calm.
"Look at me, Plankton," she
coaxed. "It's ok. You're safe."

He took another deep, shuddering
breath, his hand still fluttering.
Slowly, his eye met hers again, but
then he squeezed his eye shut to
avoid it.

Karen felt a tear slip down
her screen. "Look at me," she
whispered, her voice cracking.
"Please, Plankton."

Slowly, his eye opened, meeting
hers for a brief moment before
flitting away again, as if shy.

Karen tried to hold his gaze,
desperation clinging to every
word she spoke. "Plankton, I'm
right here. You're safe with me."
His eye darted away again.

Her mind raced. What could be
causing this? Was it the fall?
The impact? Or something
deeper, something she couldn't
see? The silence in the room
was deafening, filled only with
the echoes of their fragmented
conversation. She took another
deep breath, willing herself to
think clearly.

"Plankton," she said, her voice
soft, "can you tell me your full
name?"

His eye searched her face, his
hands still fluttering. "Plankton,"
he murmured. "Karen said Plankton.
Plankton response, full name. Name,
Sheldon Jay Plankton." It was a small victory,
but it was something. He knew
his full name. Perhaps there was hope
yet. "Good," she said, her voice
soft. "Now, can you tell me what
my birthday is?" Plankton nods.
"31 July 1999."

Karen felt a mix of relief and
disbelief. Despite his condition,
his memory was still intact.
It was his speech, his ability
to form coherent thoughts and
maintain eye contact that was the
problem.

"Plankton," she began, her voice
gentle but firm, "I need you to
stay still for me, ok?" His
body stiffened slightly, his eye
flitting towards her before
quickly darting away. "Look at me,
just for a moment."

Karen watched as Plankton's eye
moved back to hers, the fluttering
of his hands momentarily halting.
"Good," she said, her voice filled
with encouragement. "Now, I
want you to tell me, without
echoing, what your favorite color
is."

Plankton took a deep breath,
his eye locked on hers, the
challenge clear. "Color," he murmured,
his voice a whisper. "Favorite."
He paused, his mind working overtime.
"Red," he finally said, the word
escaping his lips like a
sigh of relief.

Karen's eyes widened with
hope. He'd answered without
echoing. "That's right," she said,
smiling softly. "Your favorite
color is red."

The room felt a fraction less
heavy as Plankton's shoulders
slumped in relief, his stimming
subsiding slightly. "Red," he repeated,
his voice stronger this time,
his eye lingering on hers. "Red."

Karen felt a flicker of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, she could
reach him through these
fragments of speech. She had
to try. "What time i---" But then
Plankton interrupts. "Time is 
the continuously indefinite 
progression of existence 
occurring in an apparently 
irreversible succession from 
the past, through the present
and into the future. It is a 
component quantity of various 
measurements used to sequence 
events, to compare the duration of..."

Karen's eyes widen as she tries to 
interrupt his sudden outpouring 
of information.
This isn't just a concussion. 
This is something she's never seen 
before, something that scared her 
to her core. She gently squeezes
his hand. "Plankton," she says, 
trying to get him to focus. "What
I meant was, do you know what 
tim-"

But he cuts her off again, his 
voice a recitation. "Time is 
a dimension in which events can 
be ordered from the past through 
the present into the future, and also 
the measure of duration of events
and the intervals between them."
Karen's eyes fill with tears.
Her simple question had triggered
a deluge of encyclopedic facts.

"Plankton," she whispers, her voice
shaking. "I just need to know if you
know what time i---"

He starts again, his words rapid
fire, each syllable a bullet. "Time,
a nonspatial continuum that allows
for the existence of events in sequence."

Karen's mind spun. This wasn't
the Plankton she knew, the man who'd
always had a way with words but
now they were cold, clinical, not
his own. "Plankton," she interrupted,
firm but gentle. "Please, just tell me
what time you think it is now."

He stared at her for a second, his
eye unblinking. Then, as if a switch
flipped, he said, "Time is the
measurement of moments and
temporal intervals." His voice had
shifted, no longer robotic but
still not quite right.

Karen knew she had to keep trying.
"Plankton," she said, her voice steady,
"what time do you think it is right now?"

His eye darted around the room,
his mind racing. "Time," he murmured,
his voice a mere echo of his former self.
"Now." It was a simple answer, but
the way he spoke it made Karen
churn. There was a detachment
to his tone, as if he was reciting
a line from a play he hadn't quite
memorized.

Karen took a deep breath,
fighting the panic that threatened
to consume her. "Plankton," she said,
enunciating each word carefully, "do
you know what time it is?"

He looked at her, his eye
flicking to the clock on the
mantle. "Time," he murmured. "Clock.
Tick-tock." He wasn't
telling the time; he was just
describing the clock. She tried
again, her voice strained. "Plankton,
please, tell me what the clock
says."

He looked at her, his eye unfocused.
"Clock," he murmured. Then, with
a jerk, he turned his head to look
at the clock. His hand moved to
his forehead as if to ease the
pain of processing the information.
"Five," he finally said, his voice
still flat. "Five o'clock pm, pacific time."

Karen felt a glimmer of hope.
At least he could still read the clock.
But his inability to answer a simple
question without breaking into
a disjointed monologue was odd.

"Plankton," she began again,
choosing her words with care.
"I need you to tell me what you had
for lunch to..." "Chumbalaya!" He
exclaims. "10:43.51 am pacific time."

Karen's eyes widened. His response was
unexpected, jolting her with fear.
This wasn't just a slip in
conversation; it was as if his
brain was rewiring itself in real-time.
"Love," she said, her voice shaking,
"Just tell me what you had for lunch."
"Chumbalaya had for lunch, at 10:43:51
am pacific time."

Karen's mind raced as she
tried to decode his words.
He'd mentioned a time, but
it didn't make sense in the
context of her question. Was
it a memory, a random fact?
Or a clue to what was happening
to him? "Plankton," she said,
forcing calm into her voice, "can
you tell me what you ate?" "Ate
Chumbalaya!" He says.

The sudden clarity of his answer
was a relief, but it didn't
explain his strange behavior.
Karen took another deep breath,
trying to stay composed.

"Okay," she said, her voice
shaking slightly. "But what
was the actual meal?" Plankton
looked confused, his hand
flapping again. "Meal, meal,"
he murmured, his eye searching
the room. "Food. Chumbalaya was
Plankton's consumption for lunch."

Karen's brow furrowed as she
tried to parse his words.
"Food," she echoed. "What else
did you have with your Chumbalaya?"
He paused, his hand stilled for
a moment as he searched his
memories. "Breadsticks," he said,
his voice a little clearer now.
"And soda. Diet soda. Consumed.."

The sudden clarity in his
speech was jarring, but it
gave her a glimmer of hope.

new karencore karenism brain chip

To my dear darling baby.
Author: Anonymous
Baby Name: Baby Zepeda
Birth Date: May 2011
Abortion Date: October 2010

The pain sometimes is so hard to bear, even after 11 years. I regretted it all the moment I woke up from the procedure. I screamed, “My baby!”. I’m so sorry I was weak and insecure. Your dad didn’t want to keep you because we were barely making it and didn’t want to give you a bad life. I was scared, no one would love me like your dad and he would leave me if I kept you. How wrong we were. He wouldn’t have left me. He would have loved you so much. Baby, you are missed every second of my life. Both your dad and I regret our decision. He also hurts for you too even tho he doesn’t show it. You have 2 sisters and 1 brother. I can’t wait to hug you and hold and kiss you in heaven. Oh my baby. How could I have been so stupid and weak. I know you are with God, Jesus y tu bisabuela y tus tios! I love you with all my being and hope you can forgive me. Your passing lead me to God. The only positive. I love you!

Posted: Jul 6, 2022

new familycore abortioncore

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 8
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

As she pulled the blankets up
to his chin, Plankton's hand
reached out, grasping for hers. "Stay,"
he murmured, his voice
barely above a whisper. Karen squeezed his
hand gently. "Always," she promised.

They sat in the quiet of
the room, the only sound the
rhythmic squeezing of the fidget
toy. Plankton's eyelid grew
heavy, his breathing deepening.
"It's ok," Karen whispered,
stroking his forehead. "Rest now."
Plankton's hand tightened briefly
around hers before his grip
slackened. His eye fluttered
closed, and she watched him
slip into a deep, much-needed
sleep.

During the week, Plankton got
more comfortable as Karen 
helped make adjustments. She
let him stim safely without any
judgment, even suggesting
different ways to fidget. And
she saw Plankton's old self shine
through, too. As usual, he stayed
up late watching movies. He'd
sigh and lightly tease Karen when
it came to mundane matters. Yet
she knew when it came to sensory
matters and potential triggers, it's
unnegotiable. He did open up to her
more due to his fears which came
from the autism. He didn't try to
steal the krabby patty formula any
more, but that didn't stop him from
spying on the krusty krab.

But their son Chip, whom they
adopted at birth, was going to
come home. Chip had left during
the beginning of the week before
Plankton acquired autism, to a
week long camp with some school 
mates of his. But now it's the
weekend, and Chip will be coming
back from his trip today.

Karen felt a pang of anxiety
as she thought about Chip
seeing Plankton. Would he
understand? Would he be scared?
Would he still love him? "Plankton,
Chip's old enough to underst--"

"No," Plankton said firmly,
his voice clear. "I don't want
anyone to know." Karen knew
his fear of change, of being
different. "But, Plankton,"
she began, her voice gentle.
"Chip is our son, and he might
notice changes..."

Plankton's eye grew stormy.
"No," he repeated. "I don't want
to be..." Plankton trails off as
Chip himself came in excitedly.
"Mom; Dad!"

Plankton's gaze darted to their
son, his hand tightening around
his fidget toy. She watched as
Chip rushed over, his eyes full
of excitement from his camp
adventures. "Hi, I'm home!" Chip
says, hugging Karen before turning
to Plankton.

Plankton's body tensed, his
eye avoiding Chip's gaze. "Hi,
son," he murmured, his voice
forced, But Chip, ever cheerful, 
doesn't seem to notice.
"Dad!" Chip said, launching
himself at Plankton.

"Welcome home," Plankton said,
his voice a monotone. Chip's
expression fell a little, but
his excitement was too great
to be dampened.

"How was camp?" Karen asked,
trying to ease the tension.
Chip's enthusiasm was
infectious. "It was amazing!
We did archery, and I even
made a new friend!"

Plankton's gaze remained
on the fidget toy, his thumb
flicking the switch back and
forth. "That's... nice," he
managed, his voice tight. Karen
could see the effort he was
making to engage.

Chip chattered away, not
noticing the strain in Plankton's
voice. "Her name's Luna, and she's
super cool! We're gonna be
pen pals!"

Plankton's gaze flicks up to
meet Karen's. She gave him an
encouraging smile, willing him to
find his place in the conversation.
"Cool," he murmured, his mind
racing to process the sudden
flood of information. "Pen pals."

Karen watched as Chip's
eyes searched Plankton's face,
his youthful innocence unable to
comprehend the gravity of the
situation. "Why don't you show
us if you've any pictures
you took?" she suggested,
trying to shift the focus.

Chip nodded, eagerly pulling out
his phone. He sat beside
Plankton, scrolling through the
photos, his excitement a stark
contrast to his father's
detached demeanor. Plankton's
eye flicked to the screen, his
heart racing at the thought
of impending touch.

Karen watched as Chip's
fingers hovered over a picture
of himself and Luna. "Look,
Dad," he said, holding out the
phone. Plankton blinked. "Oh
nice," he says.

But as Chip's hand reached
out to hug, Plankton's arm shot
up, his antennae quivering.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
barely audible. "Don't touch me."
Chip's hand hovered in the
air, confusion clouding his
features. "But, Da-"

Karen stepped in quickly.
"It's ok," she whispered. "We're
all family."

new familycore lunacore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 12
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

But Plankton was too lost in
his rage to hear her. "Get
OUT!" he screamed, his antennae
thrashing. "I don't need Chip!"
The words were a knife in
Karen's, but she knew they
were not truly his own.

"Dad," Chip's voice was small,
his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't
mean to..."

But Plankton's anger was a
beast that had been unleashed,
his words cutting like a knife.
"I said get out!" he roared, his
body vibrating with rage.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, looking for the man
he knew beneath the storm of
emotions. But all he saw was a
stranger, a creature of fear and
frustration. He took another
step back, his heart racing. "But
Dad," he whispered, his voice
barely audible. "I didn't do anything
wrong.."

Plankton's antennae stilled,
his breathing erratic. "You're
right," he murmured, his voice
deflating like a balloon. "You
haven't done anything wrong, in
fact, you're pretty perfect." The
words were laced with sarcasm, a
bitterness that made Karen's fists
clench. "After all, it's not like
you called me burdensome or
anything," he added, his voice
dripping with false sweetness.

Chip's eyes widened, the
impact of his father's words
hitting him like a slap. He
looked at Karen, his eyes
pleading for help, for
understanding. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "That's not
what I me-"

But Plankton's anger had
become a living entity in the
room, feeding off his fear and
frustration. "Oh, I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice thick with
sarcasm. "Did my little falling
accident hurt your precious wittle
feelings?" His antennae twitched,
his eye glinting with rage.

Chip took another step back,
his chin quivering. "But Dad,"
he protested, his voice shaking.
"I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't mean it,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "You're
so innocent, so pure." His antennae
waved erratically. "But let me tell
you a secret, Chip. You see, there's
a wonderful thing called tact.
Maybe you should try it sometime!"

Chip felt his screen burn with
embarrassment, his eyes filling
with tears. "But Dad," he whispered,
his voice shaky. "I just wanted
to-"

"Oh, I know what you wanted,"
Plankton sneered, the sarcasm
dripping from his words like acid.
"You wanted to be the hero,
didn't you? The big strong
boy who saves his daddy from
his own brain!" His antennae
twitched erratically. "But let me
tell you something, Chip. You can't
fix this. You can't make it all
better with your toys and your
stupid questions. So why don't
we all just praise perfect little
Chip for trying, shall we.." The
words were a slap in the face, each
one hitting Chip harder than the
last.

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his body trembling. "But Dad,"
he whispered, his voice
desperate. "I just want to help."
"Oh, how noble," Plankton said,
his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Want a medal?" His antennae
quivered with anger, his eye
glinting with spite.

"I just want to be with
you," Chip said, his voice
breaking. "To make you happy."
"Well, you're doing a fine job,"
Plankton said, his voice like
a whip. "Keep it up, Chip.
You're a regular miracle worker."
His words were barbed, each one
designed to cut deep.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
desperate for some sign of the
love he knew was there. But
all he found was anger, a wall
so thick it was suffocating.
"Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I'm sor-"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted, his
voice cold. "Don't you dare say
you're sorry. You don't get to
feel sorry for me. You don't get
to pity me." His antennae
twitched with agitation. "You don't
even get to be upset about what
you said. Because it's all true,
isn't it?" His eye bore into
Chip's, his voice like ice. "I'm a
burden. That's all I am. That's all
I'll ever be."

Chip's breath hitched, the
weight of his father's words
crushing him. "Dad," he managed,
his voice a whisper. "That's not
what I-"

But Plankton talked over him,
his voice a sneer. "Oh, I see.
You're going to play the innocent
now, are you? Pretend like you didn't
just say I'm a burden?" His antennae
were a blur of movement, a silent
testament to his rage. "How
convenient."

Chip felt his world crumbling,
his heart shattering into a
thousand pieces. "But Dad," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"I didn't-"

"Don't you dare lie to me,"
Plankton's voice was like a
knife, cutting through the air.

Chip felt the room close in, his
throat tight. "But Dad," he choked
out, "I didn't mean-"

"Oh, the poor little hero,"
Plankton said, his voice a mocking
whisper. "So misunderstood."
He rolled his eye dramatically.
"It's always about you, isn't it?"
The sarcasm was a knife twisting
in Karen, but she knew
it was the fear and pain speaking.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his own brimming with tears. "But
Dad, I just want to help," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"To make things right."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
gaze cold. "You want to make
things right?" he echoed, his
voice laced with condescension.
"How sweet! Why don't you go
play the hero somewhere else!"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's sarcasm, his eyes
welling up. "But I'm your son,"
he whispered, his voice
breaking. "I'm supposed to-"

"Oh, I know your role,"
Plankton said, his tone biting.
"The golden child, always
trying to fix things." His antennae
quivered with disdain. "Dad,"
Chip protests, "I just want
you to be happy."

Plankton's eye narrowed, his
face a mask of condescension.
"How sweet," he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "But you
see, Chip, happiness is a
concept lost to me. I'm just
a broken toy now, remember?"
He twirled the fidget toy in
his hand, his thumb moving
compulsively over the patterns.

Chip's cheeks flushed, his eyes
filling with tears. "But Dad,"
he whispered, "you're more than that."

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
face a contorted mask of
disdain. "Oh, really?" he said,
his voice thick with patronizing
sarcasm. "Enlighten me, oh great
and wise Chip. Tell me what I
am." He leaned back in his chair,
his antennae waving in the air
as if inviting a lecture from
his son.

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to keep his voice steady. "You're
my dad," he said, his eyes
shining with unshed tears. "And
you're... you're still you, even if
you're a little different now."

But Plankton's sarcasm was
a shield he couldn't penetrate.
"Ah, yes," he said, his voice
dripping with mockery. "The
ever-elusive 'you're still you'
argument. How original." His
antennas twitched in disdain.

"You don't get it," Chip's voice
was desperate, his eyes
pleading. "I don't care if
you're different. I just want
you to be happy."

But Plankton's anger had
become a shield, his words a
barbed wire fence keeping his
son at bay. "Oh, you don't
care?" he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "How
magnanimous of you." His antennae
twitched in a mock salute. "Well,
let me tell you something,
Chip. You can't just ignore
the fact that your perfect
little world has been shaken
up, can you?"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's patronizing tone, his
eyes burning with unshed tears.
"But Dad," he said, his voice
quivering. "I just want to-"

"Oh, I know what you want,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with condescension.
"You want the perfect little
storybook ending where we all
hold hands and skip off into the
sunset." His antennae waved in
the air dramatically. "But life
doesn't work that way, Chip.
Sometimes, bad things happen to
good people, and there's no
magical cure for it." His eye
was cold, his antennae stilled.
"So save your pity for someone
wh-"

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton, that's
enough." She knew his words
were a defense, a way to push
away the pain. "Chip's just
trying to help."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
breath hitching. He looked at
his wife, his anger momentarily
fading. "I know," he murmured.
"But I don't want his pity."

Karen's gaze was filled with
understanding. "It's not pity,
Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "It's love."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
expression softening slightly.
"But what good is love when I can't
eve-"

"Love is more than just
touch," Karen interrupted, her
voice gentle. "It's understanding,
it's patience, it's being here
for you." She took another step
towards him, her hand outstretched.
"It's about connecting in
other ways."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
eye flicking to her hand and then
back to her face. He knew she was
right, but the fear was a beast
that ruled him. "But I don't
know how to," he murmured, his
voice barely audible. "How do
I connect without... without
the things I used to do?"

Karen ached, her hand
still extended. "We'll find a
way," she assured him, her voice
steady. "Together."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 13
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye focusing on the fidget toy
in his hand. It was a silent
testament to his internal
turmoil, his mind racing with
thoughts and fears. He knew Karen
was right, that love didn't need
to be physical, but the concept
was still so alien to him, so
difficult to grasp in his current
state. "I'm trying," he murmured,
his voice tight. "But it's just..."

Karen's hand reached out to
cover his, her touch gentle. "We
all are," she said, her voice
soothing. "And that's all we can
do." Her gaze was filled with
understanding, her eyes speaking
volumes without a single word.
"We're all just trying to
navigate this new world,
together."

Chip watched his parents. He knew
his father was struggling, but he
also knew that love didn't have to
be about touch. He took a step
forward, his hand hovering..

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his eye wide with fear. Karen
quickly intervened, placing a
hand on Chip's shoulder. "Not
now," she whispered, her screen
meeting her son's. "Let's give
Dad some space."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's, the
desire to connect with his
father a palpable force. But
Plankton's reaction was a stark
reminder of the invisible barriers
his injury had erected, the
sensory minefield that surrounded
him. The room was thick with
silence, the only sound the
steady tick of the clock on the
wall.

Karen's hand remained on
Plankton's, her touch a gentle
reminder of her presence. "It's
ok," she murmured, her voice
soft. "We're all learning
together."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye meeting hers with a glimmer
of hope. "I know," he said, his
voice tight. "But it's so hard."
The words were a confession,
his vulnerability laid bare.

Karen ached, her grip
on his hand firm. "I know," she
said, her voice understanding.
"But we'll get through this.
Together."

Chip took a deep breath, his
eyes still locked on his father's.
He knew that his dad's reactions
were not personal, that his
brain was just trying to make
sense of the world in a way
that was different now. He
forced a small smile, his voice
steady. "We're here for you, Da-"
But Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body stiffening. "Don't,"
he murmured, his voice tight.
"Just... don't."

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton," she
said, her eyes never leaving
his. "Chip's just trying to
tell you that he loves you."
Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye flicking to his son and
back to Karen. The words hung
in the air, a bridge between
his old life and his new reality.
He knew his son was trying,
but the fear was a thick fog
that clouded his mind, making
it difficult to see the love
beyond the barrier of his own
emotions.

Chip knew his father was in
pain, and his words had only
added to it. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "I don't
want you to feel li—"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted,
his antennae drooping. "I know
what you're trying to do."
His voice was a mix of
fatigue and frustration. "But it's
not that simple."

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, the depth of his pain
mirrored in the tremble of his
chin. "But Dad," he said, his
voice shaking. "I just want to
make you happ..."

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body stiffening like a board.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
strained. "I don't want your pity."
The words were a warning, a
reminder that his love was not
conditional on his ability to
function in the traditional sense.

Karen's gaze remained
steadfast on her husband's face,
seeing the raw pain beneath
the anger. She knew his
frustration was a shield, a way
to protect himself from the
overwhelming sensory assault that
his brain was still trying to
comprehend. "It's getting late,"
she said. "Let's all get to bed."
Plankton's antennae drooped, his
body slumping in defeat. He
was tired, so tired of fighting, of
trying to make sense of this new
world of sensory overload and fear.
He nodded, his voice a whisper.
"Ok." The silence that followed
was heavy, filled with the
unspoken words that hung in the
air like a thick fog. As they
made their way to their separate
rooms, the weight of the evening's
interaction settled on Chip's
shoulders. He knew his father's
reaction wasn't personal, but it
was hard not to take it that way.
He lay in bed, his mind racing
with thoughts of his dad, his
heart heavy with the knowledge
that their relationship was
forever changed.

The next morning, Chip awoke
and went to his parents room.

The door was open, the light
filtered through the blinds. Plankton
was sitting on the edge of the bed,
his antennae drooped low. He looked
up as Chip entered, his eye
wary, as if expecting another
onslaught of emotions he couldn't
comprehend. Chip paused.
He knew he had to tread carefully,
his father's sensory issues a
delicate dance they were all still
learning. "Hey," he said, his
voice soft. "How are you?"
Plankton's antennae twitched, a
sign of his internal struggle.
He took a deep breath, his eye
flicking to the fidget toy
resting on the bedside table.
"I'm... ok," he murmured, his
voice tentative. "Just tired."

Chip took a step closer, his
movements deliberate and slow. "Do
you want to talk?" he asked, his
tone gentle.

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
expression a mix of fatigue and
frustration. "Talking doesn't change
anything," he said, his voice
flat. "But if it makes you feel
better..." His eye met Chip's, the
unspoken challenge clear.

Chip took a deep breath,
his mind racing. He knew his dad
was in pain, knew that he needed
to be patient. He sat down on
the bed, his movements careful.
"It's not about making me feel
better," he said. "It's about...
understanding."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Chip. For a
moment, the anger and fear
receded, replaced by a hint of
curiosity. "Understanding what?"
his voice was gruff, but there
was a crack in the armor, a
glimpse of the man he used to be.

Chip took a deep breath, his
heart racing. "Understanding...
how to be there for you," he
said, his voice earnest. "How to
love you in a way that doesn't...
hurt." He swallowed hard, his
throat tight. "I know it's different
now, but I still want to be your
son."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the floor. He
was quiet for a long moment,
his thoughts racing. He knew Chip
meant well, but the concept of
nonverbal love was so foreign
to him. "I know you do," he
murmured, his voice tight. "But it's
not your job to fix me." "I don't want to
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I just want to be with
you." He reached out tentatively,
his hand hovering over the
fidget toy. "Can I?"

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
eye wide with fear. "No," he said,
his voice sharp. "Don't touch it."
He knew the toy was a lifeline, a
way to ground himself in a world
that felt like it was spinning
out of control. But he also knew
his son meant well.

Chip's hand retreated, his eyes
filling with tears. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered. "I just want to...
connect."

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye closing briefly. He knew his
son's intentions were pure, but
his own fear was a cage he couldn't
seem to escape. "I know," he said,
his voice softer. "But it's not that
simple."

Chip felt his chest tighten, his
desire to help his father a physical
ache. "But there must be a way,"
he said. "We'll find it."

Plankton's antennae quivered, a
tiny spark of hope igniting in
his eye. "Maybe," he murmured,
his voice tentative. "But you have
to be patient." He picked up the
fidget toy, his thumb tracing
the patterns.

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I can
do that," he said, his voice
determined. "I'll do whatever it
takes."

 Plankton's antennae twitched, a
tiny glimmer of appreciation in
his eye. "Thank you," he murmured.
The words were a lifeline, a
connection in the storm of his
emotions. "But you have to
understand," he continued, his
voice strained. "Sometimes, I just
need to be left alone."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I get it,"
he said. "But I'll always be
here when you're ready."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 14
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Karen's voice was gentle
but firm. "Plankton," she
said. "Chip's right. We'll
find a way to connect that
works for all of us. We just
have to keep trying. Why don't
we all go drive to the new
sensory park they just opened?"
It was a place designed for
those with sensory processing
disorders, with areas that catered
to different sensory needs. "It's a
bit of a drive across town, but
do you wanna try going?" They
both nodded.

They parked the car. "Let's 
go slow, ok?" Plankton nodded. 
They approached the sensory
garden, a place designed to be
calming. The scent of lavender
was thick in the air, and the
soft crunch of gravel beneath
their feet was a comforting
contrast to the harshness of the
city.

As they walked through the
gates, Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye scanning the area. 
The sensory park was a
symphony of soft colors and
soothing sounds, designed to
minimize the overstimulation that
so often triggered his seizures. "This
is nice," he murmured.

Chip watched his father, his
heart in his throat. He knew
how much this meant to him,
how much Plankton was struggling.
"It is," he said, his voice
matching his dad's quiet tone.
He took a deep breath, his
sensors tuned to his father's
every movement. "Do you want to go
on the swings?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the swing.
He nodded slowly.

Chip led the way, his
movements cautious. He knew
his dad needed space, needed to
feel safe. They approached the
swing set, a simple metal frame
with plastic seats. Plankton
closed his eye, the rhythm
familiar and comforting as 
he swings.

Chip took the swing 
next to Plankton, his 
movements tentative. 
He knew his father's 
fear of touch was a 
battleground, and he 
didn't want to cross 
any lines.

The squeak of the
chains and the gentle
breeze through the leaves
of the nearby trees were
the only sounds that 
accompanied them as
they swung back and 
forth, side by side.

Chip watched his father. He
wanted so badly to reach
out, to hold Plankton's
hand, but he knew the
boundaries. Instead, he
focused on matching his
swing to Plankton's, their
motion in sync. He hoped
the rhythm would be a
comfort to his dad, a
small piece of the connection
they used to share.

As they swung, the tension
slowly began to ease from
Plankton's antennae. The
back-and-forth movement
was soothing, a gentle rocking.

After a while, they got off
the swings.

Plankton's antennae were still
twitching with the residual
energy of the movement, his
body craving the sensory input
that had become so rare. Chip
noticed and searched the park for
a suitable activity. His eyes
lit upon the sandbox. "How
about playing in the sand?"
he suggested, his voice hopeful.
Plankton's antennae quivered
with interest, his eye lighting
up slightly. He had always
enjoyed the feel of sand
between his... well, the
equivalent of fingers. Karen
smiled, seeing the potential
for a positive interaction.

They approached the sandbox,
the fine grains glinting in the
sunlight. Chip took a seat on
the wooden bench beside it,
watching as Plankton tentatively
placed his hand into the cool
sand. His antennae quivered with
pleasure at the sensation, his
body relaxing slightly. Chip
followed suit, his movements
deliberately slow and cautious,
mirroring his father's. He
knew that sudden movements or
touch could send Plankton spiraling,
so he remained still, his eyes
on the sand.

Together, they began to
sculpt the sand, their hands moving
in harmony without any need
for words. The gentle scrape
of the grains against their
hands was a soothing balm, a
silent conversation that
transcended the barriers of
language and injury. Plankton's
fears and anger from the night
before seemed to melt away with
each mound of sand that took shape.
Chip watched his father, his
heart swelling with hope. He had
found a way to connect, a
sensory experience that didn't
overwhelm Plankton. As they
played, he noticed his father's
breathing slow, his antennae
relaxing slightly. It was a
small victory, but it felt like a
huge step in the right direction.

The sun grew higher in the
sky, casting warm rays down
on the sandbox. Karen sat
beside them, her eyes filled with
gratitude for this moment of
peace.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he focused on the
sand, his movements precise. Chip
watched, mimicking his father's
careful touch. The sand was a
bridge between them, a shared
experience that didn't require
words. They built sandcastles
together, their hands working
in harmony despite the unspoken
fear that hung in the air.

Chip felt a weight lift from
his shoulders as he saw Plankton's
eye light up with each new
creation. The sand was a
therapy in itself, a gentle
reminder that love didn't need
to be loud or physical to be
felt. They built a sandcastle
together, their silent
companionship a balm to the
wounds of the previous night.

After a while, they 
finished. "Want to
try something else?" Chip
asked, his voice soft.
Plankton's antennae quivered,
his eye flicking to the nearby
beach ball. "Maybe a
game of catch?" Plankton 
suggested, his voice tentative.
Chip nods. He knew
his dad's fear of the 
unexpected, so he rolled it
gently to him.

Plankton caught the
ball. He tossed
it back to Chip, his eye
watching the arc of its
flight with a hint of 
excitement.
Chip's throw was
careful, underarm, 
keeping it within
Plankton's visual
comfort zone. He knew
his dad's limits,
his fear of fast
movements.

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he caught
the ball again. The
sensation of the cool,
smooth plastic was a
comfort in his hands.
He threw it back to Chip,
his movements calculated,
his mind focused on the
game. It was a simple
activity, but it was one
where he felt in control.
Chip watched his father, his
movements mirrored. He knew
his dad's fear of the
unexpected, so he
threw the ball with a gentle
underhand toss, keeping it
slow and predictable. Plankton
smiled slightly, his eye
tracking the ball's
trajectory.

Later, Karen told them it's
time to go, to start the drive
back home. She got in the
driver's seat as Plankton and
Chip sat in the back together.

Chip's eyes were on his dad,
his heart racing with
excitement. The car's
movement was a gentle rocking,
akin to the swing. Plankton watched
the world pass by. The
sensation of the car's vibrations
was soothing.

Karen glanced in the rearview
mirror, her eyes searching for any
sign of distress. But Plankton was
calm, his antennae still. The drive
was a quiet reprieve, a chance for
them to process the newness
of their relationship. Chip knew that
his dad's sensory issues made
the world a minefield, but in this
moment, the steady hum of the
car was a comfort.

As Karen drove, Plankton's
eyelid began to droop, his 
antennae slowing.

The gentle vibration of the
car and the predictable rhythm
of the road was a balm. He
leaned back, his head resting
against the seat, his hand 
clutching the fidget toy.
Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
half-closed, head dropping.
Chip felt his heart swell
as Plankton's head slowly
dropped onto his shoulder.
And as Plankton starts to
snore gently, Chip realized
his dad had fallen asleep,
his head resting heavily on
his shoulder. He stiffened for a
moment, fearing that any
sudden movement might
wake his father, might
disrupt the fragile peace
they had found. But Plankton's
snores grew deeper, the tension
leaving his body.

Karen glanced in 
the rearview
mirror. "It's ok,"
she murmured. 
"You're doing a
good job."

Chip felt his muscles
relax slightly, the weight of
his father's head a comfort.
He knew that this moment
was precious, a sign that
his efforts were not in vain.
He leaned into the warmth of
his dad's body, his hand
finding its way to the fidget
toy. His thumb traced the
patterns, mimicking the
rhythm that Plankton had
found soothing. Chip then
decides to take a selfie. He
holds up his phone after looking
at his dad, who started to drool
at the corner of his open mouth.
He chuckles quietly, snapping the
photo as Plankton remains asleep.

Chip posts the picture with
adding this caption:
"Went to the park with my
dad @ Sheldon Plankton
today 💙👨‍👦💨 "

Plankton still
snored softly against Chip's
shoulder. Chip noticed more
drool escaping the corner
of his mouth and felt a
surge of affection mixed with
concern. "Mom, he's drooling,"
he whispered to Karen, his voice
barely audible over the car's
hum. Karen chuckled, her eyes
meeting Chip's in the mirror.
"It's ok," she said softly.
"It's a sign of his tiredness.
Let him sleep."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 24
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ 
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ 
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. 
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ 
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ 
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ 
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ

"I've had enough of 
this!" Vickie snaps.
"He's just a burden. 
Look at him, he can't 
eve-"

Chip's fist hits the desk
with a loud smack, cutting
Vickie's words off. His eyes
blaze with a fiery determination.
"That's my dad you're talking
about!" he says, his voice
shaking with anger. The room
stills, the tension thick.
"And he's not a burden!"

Vickie's face contorts in shock.
Karen's eyes are proud,
but filled with fear. She
watches as Chip's shoulders
square, his voice strong and firm.
"I'm not leaving without this,"
he declares, his jaw set. "And if
you want him hurt, you'll
have to kick me out too."

Nurse Vickie looks at
him. "Oh you've done
nothing wrong, sweet..."

But Chip doesn't care,
his mind racing. "I have!"
he says, his voice rising.
"I'm the one causing
trouble!" He glares at her,
his fists clenched. "I'm the
problem, not him!" He throws
his backpack at the wall.

The room echoes with
the sound of books hitting
the floor, the clatter of his
defiance. "Now, are you
going to kick me out
or keep hurting him?"
Vickie's eyes narrow,
suspicion growing. "What
are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing," Chip says,
his voice shaking. "If you
want a problem, I'll give you
one. Just leave him alone."
He kicks over a chair,
his heart racing. He's fighting for his
father, for the right to be
understood.

Vickie's eyes narrow, her
mouth a thin line. "Young man,"
she says, her voice stern. "You
need to calm down." But Chip's
not calming down. He's just
getting started.

"You think you know him?"
he challenges her, his eyes
filled with a passion that's
been building for too long. "You
think you know what it's like to live
with autism?" His voice echoes
through the small office.

Vickie takes a step back,
her hands on her hips. "I know
what's best for this school,"
she says firmly, her eyes cold.
But Chip's not backing down.
"You don't know anything,"
he says, his voice shaking.
"You don't know what it's like to
have a meltdown, to need space."
He slams his fist into the desk
again, the sound ringing out
like a declaration of war. "You don't
know what it's like to be him!"

The room is silent, the
weight of his words hanging
heavy in the air. Karen's heart
swells with pride, but her
stomach is in knots. "Chip,
please..." she says, but he's
not listening. He's fighting a
battle she wishes he never had
to face.

Vickie's expression flickers
between annoyance and confusion.
"Young man, if you don't calm
down, I will be forced to
call the principal," she says.
But Chip just shakes his head,
his eyes never leaving hers.
"Then do it," he challenges.
"Call the principal. Tell
them to kick me out. Tell them
to leave my dad alone. I don't
wanna attend a school where
my dad isn't respected." His voice
cracks, the tears he's been
fighting spilling over.

Karen's hand is on his shoulder,
trying to calm him, but Chip's
determination is a force to
be reckoned with. "Chip, sweetie,
you don't have to do this," she whispers.
But he shrugs her off.

"I do," he says, his voice
steady despite the tremble in
his chest. "I won't let anyone
hurt him like this again." His
eyes are wet, but his stance is firm.
"I'd rather be kicked out than
see him suffer. I've made mistakes,
but he's not a mistake. He only got
sick because his needs weren't
respected. Now, let us all go."

Vickie's face reddens, her
patience wearing thin. "Fine,"
she says through gritted teeth.
"I'll call the principal. You're
both coming with me." She grabs
Plankton's arm, ignoring his
flinch. Karen and Hanna follow
Chip as he trails behind Vickie.

The walk to the principal's
office feels like a march to the
gallows. Plankton's body is tight
with tension, his antennae
twitching with every step. Chip's
heart races, his mind a tornado
of fear and anger. He can't believe
he's doing this, but he's seen
his dad suffer enough.

The principal greets them all.
"Nurse Vickie, and Chip; hello!"

But Chip's face is a mask of
determined anger, his eyes
fixed on the woman who had
caused his father so much pain.
"My dad's in trouble
because he's different, 
and she won't let him be!"
He points an accusing 
finger at Vickie,
his words a declaration.
The principal's eyebrows shoot up,
his screen a picture of surprise.
"What seems to be the trouble?"
his voice calm, his eyes
quickly assessing the situation.

Vickie starts to explain,
her voice a river of accusations.
"He's a disruption, he's..."
But Chip cuts her off,
his voice a knife. "I'm
the disruption!" he says.
"I'm the one who threw the chair,
I'm the one who yelled.
My father's condition is not
a disruption. It's a part of who
he is." He turns to Vickie.
"I'd appreciate it if you could
be more understanding."

The principal's eyes flicker between
Chip and Vickie, his expression
neutral. "Chip, I understand
you're upset. But throwing
chairs and yelling is not
the way to express yourself."
He pauses, looking at Plankton
huddled in the corner. "But I also
see that something has happened
here that we need to address."

Vickie's grip on Plankton's arm
loosens, her face a mask of
defensiveness. "The father 
was just being difficult, and
was acting strangely."

The principal's gaze sharpens.
"Difficult? Strangely?" he
repeats, his eyes drilling
into hers. "Care to elaborate?"

Vickie stammers, her
confidence waning. "He was
rocking back and forth, and...
his antennae... they... I don't
know, just..." She trails
off, unsure of herself.

The principal's gaze
remains on her, his patience
thinning like a wavering thread.
"I see," he says, his voice calm.
He turns to Plankton, his
expression gentle. "Is that right?"

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his body a taut wire of
nervous energy. "No," he says,
his voice a croak. "It's... it's just me."
He can't meet the principal's gaze,
his eyes darting to the floor.
"I... I just need..."

But Chip's voice cuts through
the silence like a sword,
his words a shield for his
father. "It's not his fault,"
he says firmly. "Autisticaphobia
exists in this school.
It's not his behavior that's
the issue, it's the lack
of understanding and empathy."

The principal's eyes narrow,
his gaze on Vickie, who
shifts uncomfortably under the
weight of accusation. "Is this true?"
he asks her, his voice calm but
his eyes like steel.

Vickie opens her mouth, but
no words come out. She looks
from Plankton, huddled in the
corner, to Chip, standing tall
and furious. "I was just trying
to calm everyone," she says weakly.

The principal's gaze never wavers
from her. "What happened in
my office, Nurse Vickie, is not
calming. It's discrimination."
His voice is low, but it resonates
like a thunderclap. "Your job
is to support our students and
their families, not to make them 
feel less than."

Vickie's cheeks burn with
shame, her eyes downcast.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I 
didn't mean..."

But Chip's voice is a wall,
his words unyielding. "It's not
about what you meant," he says.
"It's about what you did." His
eyes are on the principal,
his stance unwavering. "He's
my dad, and I'll do anything
to protect him."

The principal's face is
still, his eyes thoughtful. "Chip,
you need to understand that
this isn't the way to handle
things," he says, his tone measured.
"But I also appreciate your
concern for your father." He looks
at Vickie, his gaze stern.

Vickie's eyes dart around
the room, her discomfort palpable.
"I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice
small. "I didn't know..."

The principal's gaze is
steady, his voice firm. "Ignorance
is no excuse," he says. "We will
have a training session for
all staff on autism awareness,
and we'll make sure everyone
understands neurodiverse needs."
He turns to Plankton, who's
still huddled in the corner.

"Mr. Plankton, I'm sorry for
any discomfort you've felt here
today," he says, his tone
soothing. "Your son has made
it clear that your needs are
important, and we will respect
them." He glances at Vickie.
"This won't happen again."

Chip's chest loosens, his breaths
coming easier. He's done it.
He's protected his father.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye flickers up to Chip's.
There's something in them,
something new. Recognition?
Pride? Chip isn't sure, but
his heart swells with hope.
Slowly, tentatively, Plankton
moves towards him, his
tiny body shaking with
the effort of controlling
his overwhelmed senses. Chip
holds his breath, his eyes
on his father.

Karen watches the scene with a
mixture of pride and sorrow as
Plankton's arms extend, a silent
offering of love and comfort.
Chip's heart races, his eyes
wide. He's never seen his dad
want to hug him before. But
his instincts kick in, the days
of learning about autism
guiding his actions. He steps
forward, his own arms wrapping
around Plankton's shoulders.
Their embrace is tight, a
physical manifestation of the
bridge they're building. Chip
can feel Plankton's heart racing
against his chest, his antennae
twitching slightly. But it's not
with fear or panic, it's with
a love so pure it's overwhelming.
He squeezes his dad tighter,
his eyes closing as he whispers,
"I've got you."



 

new familycore autism and all schoolcancelationcore chipcore

There is a movie about a murderous car tire named Robert. The entire movie is the tire rolling
around, killing people and blowing things up

new horrorbuff randomcore rubber

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."

new horrorbuff horrorposting familycore murdercore

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new horrorbuff jenna ortega scream

r/TwoSentenceHorror
3 hr. ago
Personal-Tea7226


I stood and looked at myself in the mirror
When my reflection mouthed “it’s behind you!”

new horrorbuff twistedcore mirrorcore reflectioncore

DON’T 👏🏼 SAY 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 BELIEVE 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 BIBLICAL 👏🏼 MARRIAGE 👏🏼 IF 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 DIDN’T 👏🏼 OFFER 👏🏼 THREE 👏🏼 GOATS 👏🏼 FOR 👏🏼 YOUR 👏🏼 WIFE

new 👏🏼 familycore christianity religion church christian goat

Go to TwoSentenceHorror
r/TwoSentenceHorror
16 hr. ago
2Casca_2Red


Jessica curled up on her bed as her 
mum cautiously waltzed into the room
and said, "I understand wanting to fit
in... but I just don't want you to feel like
you have to change who you are."
That night, surrounded by the leering, fanged smiles of her new
friends, Jessica slowly exposed her neck and said, "Do it."

new bodyhorrorcore horrorbuff fangscore bedroomcore vampcore vampirecore vampirekin TwoSentenceHorror

Drowning In Sorrow
I had a cousin who drowned when I was much younger. At the time, he was off at college, so nobody knew about it until the next day. His parents were taking care of his 2-year-old niece. The night he drowned, she woke up screaming in the night and would not go to sleep. She just kept pointing to a picture of him that was on the nightstand. His parents gave it to her, and she hugged it and wouldn't let go of it all night.

new drownedcore familycore factinate

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vi

(Autistic Author)



"Plankton," she says firmly, her voice 
cutting through the tension. "Let's take a 
breathe."

He glares, his antennae vibrating with 
agitation. But he does as she says, 
taking a deep, shaky breath. Chip 
watches him, eyes wide and full of 
tears.

"Chip," Karen says, her voice calm. 
"Why don't you go to your room and play 
for a bit?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. He slips off the couch, 
clutching the rock to his chest. But doing 
so, Chip accidentally touches Plankton 
when he passes, and Plankton yelps in 
alarm when Chip brushes his shoulder.

"Sorry," Chip whispers.

Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting 
straight up as he jolts back from the 
contact. "I told you, no touching!" he 
snaps, his voice a thunderclap in the 
tense silence.

Chip's eyes widen with fear and 
confusion, his lip quivering as he backs 
away, holding the rock protectively. "I 
didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice 
barely above a whisper.

Plankton's antennae wiggle in an 
exaggerated fashion, his eye rolling 
dramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he says 
in a high-pitched mockery of Chip's 
voice. "I didn't mean to touch you and 
make everything about me."

Karen's face falls, and she knows 
they've taken a step backward. But she 
also sees the hurt in Plankton's eye, the 
pain that he's trying to hide with anger.

"Dad," Chip says, quivering. "That's not 
fair, I..."

But Plankton doesn't let him finish.

"You know what's not fair?" Plankton 
spits, his antennae whipping back and 
forth in fury. "Is having a son who thinks 
he knows everything about me!"

Chip's eyes fill with tears as he stumbles 
back, clutching the rock tighter. "I just 
wanted to help," he whispers, his voice 
breaking.

Plankton's in a sarcastic imitation of 
Chip's movements. "Oh, the great 
helper," he says, his voice dripping with 
sarcasm. "You think you can just fix me 
with your questions and your pity?"

Chip's eyes fill with hurt as he watches 
his father mock his innocent concern. 
Karen feels a mix of anger and sadness, 
but she knows she must tread carefully.

"Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaking as 
he puts the rock down, "I'm sorry if I 
made you mad."
But Plankton isn't listening. He picks up 
the rock and with a sudden, violent 
movement, he throws it against the wall. 
It shatters into a hundred pieces, the 
sound echoing through the room.
"Son, I’m sorry if I made you mad!”
Plankton's sarcastic tone cuts through 
the silence like a knife, his antennae 
flailing wildly. Chip flinches at the 
sudden outburst, his eyes wide with 
shock.

"That's what you want, right?" Plankton 
continues, his voice rising. "To fix 
everything? Sorry doesn't cut it," 
Plankton snaps, his antennae trembling 
with rage.

"No, Dad," Chip says, his voice barely 
audible, "I just wanted to understand."

But Plankton isn't done.

"Oh, I'm sorry, little genius," Plankton 
says, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Is 
that what you want to hear?"

Chip stares at him, his eyes brimming 
with tears. "No," he whispers. "I just 
want you to be okay, I love you!"

But Plankton's anger is a living, 
breathing thing, swirling around him like 
a storm.

"Love isn't enough, Chip!" Plankton 
yells, his antennae quivering with rage. 
"You can't just love away my problems! 
You don't get to decide that for me!"

Karen's heart is in her throat, but she 
forces herself to speak calmly. 
"Plankton, please," she says, her voice 
shaking. "You're scaring him."

Chip nods. “I just…”
But Plankton's fury is unrelenting.

"You think a simple game of 'I love you' is going 
to make everything okay?" Plankton 
interrupts, his voice a roar that shakes 
the walls of their tiny underwater home.

Chip's eyes fill with confusion, and he 
takes a step backward, trembling. "But, 
Dad," he whispers.

"But nothing!" Plankton's antennae whip 
around, and he stands, his whole body 
vibrating with anger. "You think you can 
fix me? You think you can just love me 
and everything will be fine?"

Karen tries to interject, but Plankton's 
rage is like a tidal wave, crashing over 
everything in its path.

"You think you gotta have the last word 
just to show how great and special you 
are Chip. But in the real world No means 
No so BACK OFF."

Chip's eyes widen, and he stumbles 
backward, the shattered rock on the 
floor a stark reminder of Plankton's 
outburst.

"Daddy," he whispers, his voice 
trembling.

Plankton's antennae only stiffen 
further.

"I'm sorry, Chip," Karen says, her voice a 
thread of calm in the storm. "Let's go to 
your room, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton, who's still standing with his 
antennae flailing. Karen can see the hurt 
in her son's gaze, and it breaks her 
heart. She helps him off the couch, and 
together, they navigate the shards of 
rock on the floor.

As they leave the room, Karen casts a 
sorrowful glance at Plankton, who's now 
slumped into the couch, his antennae 
drooping. The anger seems to have 
drained out of him, leaving behind a 
tired, defeated creature.

In Chip's room, Karen helps her son sit 
on the bed, the soft glow from the 
glowfish lamp casting a warm light on 
his tear-stained face. She sits beside 
him, her hand gently rubbing his back in 
comforting circles. "You didn't do 
anything wrong, sweetie," she whispers. 
"Daddy just has a hard time with his 
feelings."

Chip's eyes are glued to the floor, his 
chest heaving with quiet sobs. "But 
why?" he asks, his voice cracking.

Karen takes a deep breath, trying to find 
the right words. "Sometimes, when 
people are upset or scared, they don't 
know how to show it," she says gently. 
"Daddy's just trying to deal with his own 
stuff, and it can be hard for him to talk 
about."

Chip nods, his eyes still on the floor. 
"But why does he have to get so mad?" 
he asks, his voice trembling.

"It's not that he's mad at you," 
she says softly. "It's just that he doesn't 
know how to express himself without 
getting upset."

"But why?" Chip asks, his voice muffled 
by the pillow he's buried his face in.

Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes 
misting over. "Daddy's brain works 
differently, Chip," she says, her voice 
cracking. "Sometimes, when we're sad 
or scared, we get mad instead."

Chip lifts his head, his eyes red and wet. "But why 
doesn't he just tell me he loves 
me?" he asks, his voice a broken 
whisper.

Karen sighs, sad but 
understanding. "Some people show love 
in different ways," she says. "Daddy 
might not say it out loud, but he does it 
every day. Like when he takes you on 
adventures or when he makes you 
laugh."

"But why can't he just say it?" he asks.

Karen's throat tightens. "Sometimes, it's 
hard for Daddy to say the words," she 
explains gently. "But that doesn't mean 
he doesn't feel it."

Chip sniffles, his eyes never leaving 
hers. "But why can't he just tell me?"

Karen sighs, her hand still rubbing 
soothing circles on his back. "It's 
complicated," she says. "Daddy's brain 
is like a treasure chest with lots of locks. 
Some days, the right words just can't 
find the key."

Chip looks at her, his eyes searching for 
a simple truth amidst the complexity. 
"But I want him to feel happy with me," 
he murmurs.

Karen nods, her voice soft. "And he is, 
sweetie," she says. "Just in his own 
way."

They sit in silence for a moment. Then 
Karen stands, her movements slow and 
deliberate. "Let's leave Daddy alone for 
now," she suggests. "He needs some 
space to sort through his feelings."

Chip nods, his eyes still glistening with 
unshed tears. Together, they leave the 
room, closing the door softly behind 
them.

As they walk down the corridor, Karen's thoughts are 
a tumult of emotions. She's angry at Plankton for his 
outburst, but she also understands his pain. He's 
been dealing with his condition alone for so long, 
and now he's forced to confront it with their son's 
innocent curiosity.

They enter the living room, and she can see 
Plankton sitting on the couch, his antennae 
drooping. He looks up as they come in, his 
expression a mix of guilt and defiance. Karen takes a 
deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in 
check. "Why don't we watch a movie?" she 
suggests, her voice gentle. "Something to help us relax?"

Chip nods, still sniffling, and Plankton's antennae 
perk up slightly. It's a small victory, but it's 
something.

They settle on the couch, Chip curled up in the 
middle with a blanket. Karen chooses a movie 
they've watched together before, a silent gesture of 
comfort and familiarity. Plankton's eye is on the 
screen, but his antennae are still twitching with 
leftover anger.

new chip off the old talks familycore autismcore

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS x

(Autistic Author)


Karen's heart squeezes as she sees the 
vulnerability in her husband. She 
reaches out and takes Plankton's hand, 
giving it a comforting squeeze. "We're all 
learning here," she says. "And we'll keep 
figuring it out together." Then, Chip speaks 
up again, his voice a little stronger. 
"Daddy," he says, "I still want to show 
you affection."

Plankton looks up, his antennae 
twitching with a hint of sadness. "I know, 
buddy," he says. "And I appreciate that. 
But sometimes, my brain needs a 
different kind of love."

Chip frowns. "But I 
don't know how," he says.

Plankton's antennae wiggle as he thinks. 
"How about this?" he suggests, his eye 
brightening slightly. "You can make me a 
'love rock'."
Chip's eyes light up with excitement, and 
Karen nods encouragingly. 

"You can 
pick out a rock from the beach or the 
yard, and every time you feel like giving 
me a hug but know I might not be able 
to handle it, you can give me the rock 
instead. That way, I'll always know 
you're thinking of me."

Chip nods eagerly, already imagining the 
perfect rock in his mind. "I'll find the 
biggest, smoothest rock," he says, his 
eyes shining with purpose.

Plankton's antennae rise slightly, and he 
manages a smile. "That's my boy," he 
says, his voice a little less strained.

“I’ll go look in our backyard right now,” 
Chip says as he does so.

Karen watches him run off and looks at 
Plankton, her eyes filled with emotion. 
"You ok?" she asks, squeezing his hand.

Plankton nods, his antennae still. "I think 
so," he murmurs. "Thank you, Karen."

Karen squeezes his hand in return, her 
eyes filled with understanding. "You're 
doing great," she whispers.

As Chip rummages outside, the sound 
of his little feet pattering on the ground, 
Karen and Plankton sit in the quiet 
kitchen, the weight of their conversation 
still hanging in the air. Plankton's 
antennae droop slightly, but there's a 
newfound openness in his gaze.

"Do you think he'll understand?" 
Plankton asks, his voice still raw from 
the previous night's emotions.

Karen squeezes his hand, her eyes filled 
with warmth. "He's a smart kid," she 
reassures him. "And he loves you. He'll 
get it."

They sit in silence for a moment, 
listening to the distant sounds of Chip's 
exploration. Then, Plankton speaks up, 
his voice tentative. "What if I have 
another meltdown?" he asks.

Karen squeezes his hand, her gaze 
unwavering. "We'll be there for you," she 
says. "We'll help you through it."

The sound of the back door opening and 
closing echoes through the house, and 
Chip returns, holding a rock that fits 
perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's 
smooth, with a slight shimmer in the 
light. "Here it is!" he exclaims, holding it 
out to Plankton. "It's your love rock!"

Plankton's antennae lift, and a genuine 
smile spreads across his face as he 
takes the rock. "It's perfect," he says, his 
voice filled with emotion. He can feel the 
warmth from Chip's hand still lingering 
on the stone. "Thank you, buddy."

Chip beams, his earlier fears forgotten in 
the excitement of the moment. "Can we 
go to the park now?" he asks, hopeful.

Karen looks at Plankton, who nods 
wearily. "Sure," she says, pushing her 
chair back. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

The park is a familiar place, filled with 
the sounds of children's laughter and the 
distant hum of the city. As they walk, 
Chip chats away, his voice a balm to 
Plankton's nerves. Karen notices the 
subtle changes in her husband's gait, 
the way his antennae twitch with every 
new sound or sight. She knows he's 
trying hard to stay present, to not get 
overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught 
of the outside world.

When they reach the playground, Chip 
runs off to the swings, his love rock 
clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton 
watches him, his gaze a mix of pride 
and concern. He knows his son's energy 
can be too much for him sometimes, but 
he doesn't want to miss out on these 
moments.

Plankton takes a deep breath, his 
antennae wiggling as he gathers his 
courage. He approaches the swing set, 
his eye scanning the area for any 
potential triggers. The chains of the 
swings glint in the sun, and he can 
almost feel the sway of the seat beneath 
him. He hasn't swung in years, not since 
before Chip was born.

Plankton sits on the swing by Chip.

The metal is cold and hard beneath him, 
but as he starts to push off with his foot, 
the chains begin to squeak a comforting 
rhythm. The motion is familiar, almost 
soothing, reminding him of a time when 
the world was simpler, less stormy. He 
watches Chip, his heart swelling with 
love as his son's laughter fills the air.

As they swing side by side, Plankton's 
antennae twitch with every movement of 
the breeze, every giggle that escapes 
Chip. The wind rushes through the 
playground, and he feels the rock in his 
pocket, a reminder of their newfound 
understanding.

The rhythmic motion of the swing starts 
to work its magic, and Plankton's 
beginning to relax. The gentle sway 
feels like a lullaby for his overstimulated brain. 
Plankton smiles, his antennae waving in a way that 
says everything is ok.

They swing in silence for a while, the 
steady back and forth a comforting 
metronome to the chaotic symphony of 
the playground around them. Plankton 
can feel the tension in his body slowly 
uncoiling, the squeak of the chains 
becoming a familiar melody that soothes 
his frazzled nerves.

new chip off the old talks familycore x

GREAT CHIP ix
(Autistic author)

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to compose himself. "I know I can't
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking.

Plankton's antennae stopped moving,
his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity
that made him feel like he was being x-rayed.
"You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you
can support me. You can be there without
trying to change me."

Chip nodded, swallowing the lump
in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say.
"But I want to understand. I want
to be here for you."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?"
he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your
brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds
fun, right?"

Chip felt a smile tug at the corner
of his mouth despite the tension,
which only adds to Plankton's anger.
"Well, when you put it that way..."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye squinting at his son's response.
"What?" he barked, his voice
sharp.

Chip tried to hold onto his smile,
his heart racing. "I mean,
if it's like a pinball machine, I can
learn the patterns," he said, his tone
carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video
games, so..."

Plankton's antennae waved wildly,
his eye flashing with anger. "You think
this is a game?" he shouted, his voice
filling the room. "You think
I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN
PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING
WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!"

Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide
with shock at his father's outburst.
He took a step back, his hands up
in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry,"
he said quickly, his voice trembling.
"I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I
just..."

"You just what?" Plankton spat, his
small body vibrating with rage. "You just
don't get it! You can't get it! You're not
autistic, you don't know what it's like to have
your brain turn on you like that!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his heart breaking at the accusation.
"I know, Dad," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying."

Plankton's antennae quivered with
the force of his rage. "You don't know,"
he said, his voice cold. "You can't know.
All I see is a little child playing pretend,
thinking he can understand what I go 
through! And yet you're the one asking
for help! Face it, you're never going to get 
it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!"

Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting
like a sledgehammer. He had never seen
his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want 
to help."

Plankton's antennae stopped their wild
movements, his eye focusing on his son with
a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated,
his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to
help by poking fun at my condition?"

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it
like that," he said, his voice trembling.
"I just wanted to lighten the mood."

Plankton's antennae waved, his eye
still cold and distant. "Don't," he said,
his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten
it. And don't you DARE make fun of it."

Chip's eyes fell to the floor,
his heart aching with the weight of his
father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered,
his voice trembling. "I di-"

"You're sorry?" Plankton's voice
was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry
doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist
on the table, causing their plates to rattle.
"You think an apology is enough
when you belittle what I go through?"

Chip's eyes widened with fear
as his dad's anger grew. He'd never
seen Plankton like this before, his
tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae
thrashing like live wires. The kitchen
felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in.

"Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice
shaking. "I didn't mean it that way."

But Plankton was beyond listening, his
tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to
make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae
whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to
reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!"

Chip took another step back, his heart
pounding in his chest. He had never seen
his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-"
he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop.

"You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted,
his antennae a blur of motion. "You think
it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew
louder, his words sharper. "You think it's
easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as
his father's anger grew, his voice
crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make
light of his dad's condition, but now it
seemed as if he'd made everything worse.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands
shaking.

Plankton's antennae whipped around
his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't
make it go away!" he screamed, his voice
bouncing off the walls. "You think you can
make it better with a laugh?" He slammed
his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot.
"It's not a joke, Chip!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched
his father's outburst, his heart pounding.
He had never seen Plankton like this,
his anger a living, breathing thing that filled
the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered,
his voice shaking. "But I want to help."

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his
body shaking with the force of his emotions.
"Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want
to help? Then stop making it about you!"

Chip's eyes grew wide with fear
as he watched his father's anger
boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please,"
he whispered, his heart racing.

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly,
his body vibrating with uncontrollable
rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the
coffee mug from the table,
flinging it across the room
where it shattered against the wall.
Shards of ceramic flew everywhere,
puncturing the silence like shrapnel.

"Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing
faster than it ever had before. He had
never seen Plankton this out of control.
And Karen knew she had to act fast.

Her voice was calm but firm as
she approached Plankton. "Sweetie,
it's okay," she said, her hands up in a
non-threatening gesture. "Let's go
to your workshop. You know that's your
safe space."

Plankton's antennae thrashed, his
eye darting around the room, seeking
anything to target his anger. "I don't
want to go anywhere!" he roared, his
body shaking with the intensity of
his emotions. "It's not okay!"

Karen stepped closer, her voice
steady. "It's okay to be upset,"
she said, her eyes never leaving
his. "But Chip..."

But Plankton's rage was unstoppable.
He lunged for the nearest object,
a framed photo of Chip,
his grip tightening as he raised it
over his head, ready to smash it
against the floor.

Karen's eyes widened, her heart
pounding in her chest. She had
to defuse the situation before it
got any worse. "Plankton, no," she
pleaded, her voice steady. "Please,
don't."

But Plankton's rage had taken over,
his body moving on autopilot as he
swung the photo frame with all his might.
It crashed to the floor, the shattering
glass echoing in the small room.
Chip's eyes grew round with shock,
his body frozen in place as he watched
his father's tantrum unfold.

"Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice
cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!"

But Plankton's rage was a runaway train,
his antennae quivering with the intensity
of his anger. He stomped over to the counter,
grabbing a plate and flinging it against
the wall, where it shattered into a hundred
tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force
of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine.

Karen stepped in front of Chip,
placing herself between him and the storm
of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly,
her voice a calm oasis in the chaos.
"You're scaring him."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Karen with a mix
of anger and confusion. For a moment,
his body seemed to pause, his arm
still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly
in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it,
the soft fabric landing limply on the floor.

Karen's eyes searched her husband's,
seeing the turmoil behind the rage.
"Please, Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "Let's talk about this."

But Plankton's anger was like a
wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
He picked up another mug, his arm
winding up to throw it, when Chip
suddenly stepped forward, his eyes
locked on his father's. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "Please don't."

Plankton's antennae paused, his
arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled,
his eye wild with anger. "You think
you can just tell me what to do?" And
then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction,
Plankton hurled the mug in front of
Chip, purposefully missing him.

The room seemed to hold its breath
as the mug spun through the air,
the shattering of porcelain on the
tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad,"
Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not
about control. It's about us. Our fam..."

But Plankton was beyond words,
his rage a living entity that
consumed him. He grabbed a toaster,
his grip white-knuckled, and hurled
it at the fridge, the metallic clang
a cacophony in the small kitchen.
"I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!"
he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

new great chip familycore ix

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi

(Autistic Author)


The wind whispers through the leaves of 
the nearby trees, carrying with it the 
scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant 
sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, 
but one that Plankton has often missed 
in his quest to protect his son from the 
storms in his own mind.

Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a 
ball comes hurtling through the air, 
narrowly missing Plankton's head. He 
flinches, his antennae shooting straight 
up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an 
abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The 
children playing nearby laugh, unaware 
of the chaos their game has brought to 
the quiet corner of the playground.

Plankton's eye darts around, trying to 
process the sudden assault of sound 
and movement. His breath comes in 
quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can 
see the beginnings of a panic attack 
forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip 
shouts, jumping off his swing and racing 
to his side.

With surprising speed and grace, Chip 
leaps into action, catching Plankton just 
as he starts to topple off the swing.

"Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with 
urgency as he gently guides Plankton's 
unresponsive body to the soft grass 
below. The love rock still clutches in his 
small hand.

Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with 
concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling 
beside them.

Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has 
an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice 
shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, 
his eyes filled with fear and confusion. 
"What do we do?"

Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and 
love as she takes in the sight of 
Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, 
his antennae limp. She's been here 
before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," 
she says, her voice calm despite her 
racing heart. "Just give him a moment. 
He'll come back to us."

Chip nods, his grip on the love rock 
tightening as he watches his father. The 
world seems to slow down around them, 
the laughter of the other children fading 
into a distant memory. Plankton's 
breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen 
reaches out, placing a gentle hand on 
his back, feeling the rise and fall of his 
chest.

The seconds tick by like hours, each 
one filled with the weight of uncertainty. 
Chip clutches the love rock, willing his 
dad to come back. He's seen this 
before, but it never gets easier. He 
remembers the first time it happened, 
the fear that had gripped him, the feeling 
of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed 
over. But now, he knows what to do. 
He's not as scared; he's prepared.

With trembling hands, Chip takes out the 
love rock, its smoothness a comforting 
reminder of their conversation. He 
places it gently in Plankton's palm, 
curling the slender fingers around it. 
"You're ok," he whispers, his voice 
steady despite the storm of emotions 
inside. "We’re here."

Plankton's body remains still, a stark 
contrast to the vibrant world around 
them. The squeaks of the swings, the 
laughter of the children, the distant 
crash of waves, all seem to fade into the 
background as they wait for him to 
return from his brief retreat.

Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his 
shoulder, offering silent support.

Time seems to stand still as they wait, 
the rock in Plankton's hand a silent 
testament to their newfound bond. The 
park's vibrant sounds muffle into a 
distant symphony, the world holding its 
breath for Plankton's return. Above 
them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, 
the shadows dancing as if in a silent 
ballet of concern.

The seconds stretch into eternity, each 
one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes 
never leave his father, willing him back 
with all his might. The rock in Plankton's 
palm is a symbol of love and 
understanding, a bridge connecting 
them through the stormy seas of his 
mind.

As Plankton's body remains frozen, the 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath. The rustling of the leaves above, 
the distant laughter of children, even the 
crash of waves in the background seem 
to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the 
universe itself is offering a quiet 
sanctuary for Plankton's return.

Chip's eyes never leave his father's 
face, his grip on the love rock in 
Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart 
races with fear, but he squeezes the 
rock tighter, trying to channel the love 
and support he feels into his dad's 
unresponsive hand. Chip decides to 
whisper comforting words.
"Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're 
safe here with me and Mom."

Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear 
and admiration for her son's courage. 
She watches as Chip decides to 
continue.

"Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip 
whispers. "It's my way of saying I love 
you."

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a 
glimmer of recognition in his eye. The 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath, the very air thick with 
anticipation. Chip's voice is the only 
sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony 
of the playground.

The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, 
almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love 
Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches 
as Plankton's antennae slowly start to 
wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to 
them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice 
barely audible. "I'll always be here."

Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her 
eyes glistening with tears she's trying 
hard to hold back. The sight of her son's 
unwavering support is both 
heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. 
Plankton's chest rises and falls more 
steadily, his breathing evening out.

The rock in Plankton's hand seems to 
pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent 
acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen 
sees the tension in Plankton's features 
begin to ease, his antennae drooping 
slightly as he starts to come back to 
them. It's a delicate process, like waking 
a sleeping dragon. Any sudden 
movement could send him back into the 
storm.

Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding 
Plankton through the fog. 
"It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice 
soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's 
antennae twitch again, and Karen can 
see the spark of understanding in his 
eye.

Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. 
The tension in his shoulders eases, and 
his antennae twitch in a way that tells 
Karen he's listening, that he's with them 
again. His breathing evens out, and his 
eyelid flickers closed.

For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, 
Plankton's hand tightens slightly around 
the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 
'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes 
shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s 
asleep," she whispers, her voice filled 
with a mix of humor and love.

Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like 
that for a while, the three of them, in the 
quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The 
storm in Plankton's mind has passed, 
leaving them in a gentle lull.

The playground's sounds slowly start to 
filter back in, the chatter of children, the 
distant hum of the city, the rustling of 
leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps 
whispering, his voice a gentle caress in 
the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're 
safe."

Karen watches her son with a mix of 
love and sadness, knowing the weight 
he now carries. He's growing up too fast, 
she thinks, but he's handling it with more 
grace than anyone could ask for. 

Plankton's hand relaxes around the 
rock, his breathing deep and even. The 
storm inside him has passed for now, 
leaving them with a quiet, precious 
moment.

Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. 
"Is he going to be ok?"

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," 
she says. "Rest is sometimes the best 
thing for him after an episode."

Chip nods, his grip on the rock in 
Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He 
looks around the park, the world coming 
back into focus. The other kids are 
playing, their laughter a gentle reminder 
of the life that goes on outside their little 
bubble of concern.

"Should we go home?" Chip asks, his 
voice still hushed.

Karen nods. "Let's get him into the 
shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby 
tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him 
good."

Together, they gently lift Plankton and 
carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip 
is careful not to jostle him too much, his 
little hands supporting Plankton's head.

Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on 
the ground and they place him down. 
His antennae are still now, no longer 
dancing with the stress of the seizure. 
His breath is deep and even, his 
features relaxed in sleep.

Chip watches him intently, his thumb 
tracing the smooth surface of the love 
rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he 
asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. 
Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce 
protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," 
she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

new chip off the old talks familycore xi

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