Mystery Stories Emojis & Text

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago hyperobscura 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽? 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’ 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚗𝚍? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 ...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸? 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 “It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face. They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye. “Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.

"I've never understood why they call it a 'morning routine'," Karen mumbled to herself. The clock glared: 5:47 AM. The house was silent, aside occasional tick of the wall clock. Plankton, her companion, was still snoring away upstairs. Karen sighed. Plankton had fallen asleep on the couch. Again. Karen had been Plankton's personal assistant, and she had grown accustomed to his erratic sleep patterns. Her processors ticked methodically as she calculated the best way to wake him without causing disturbance. She had tried various tactics in the past: music, cup of tea, even a friendly message displayed on her screen. But today, she had a new idea. As she booted up the household systems, she decided to start subtle. The lights began to brighten gradually, mimicking the glow of a dawning sunrise. It was a feature Plankton had installed, yet never used. She watched him stir slightly on the couch, snoring subsided to a gentle wheeze. "Karen?" he mumbled groggily. "Yes, Plankton?" she responded, keeping her voice low. He mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, eye still closed. Karen's curiosity piqued. It wasn't often Plankton talked in his sleep. She leaned closer, digital eyes studying his face as he continued to murmur. "Krabby Patty... so... delicious... must... get... recipe," he slurred, voice trailing off into a snore. Karen's circuits buzzed. Plankton's subconscious was revealing something significant he had kept hidden from her. The Krabby Patty recipe was the holy grail of their world, the secret ingredient known only to Mr. Krabs. Plankton had spent life trying to steal it, and seemed his obsession had seeped into his dreams. She waited for more sleep-talk to come with anticipation. The room grew lighter as the sunrise simulation reached its peak. Plankton's snoring turned into gentle rhythmic breathing. "Closer... so close," he murmured. "The secret... right there... in... Krabs'... locker." Karen's mind raced. A clue! Plankton's dreams might just be key to unlocking the mystery. She quickly made a note and continued observation. The sunrise simulation had reached its zenith, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light that made Plankton's snores almost peaceful. "Hidden... behind... picture... of... his... mother," Plankton murmured, voice barely audible. Karen's processors whirred. The secret might actually be within their grasp. She wondered if Plankton stumbled upon something real in his sleep- induced ramblings. As Plankton's breathing grew even quieter, Karen gently nudged the couch with her robotic arm. "Plankton, wake up," she whispered. With a jolt, Plankton's eye snapped open. "Karen what's going on?" He rubbed his eye and took in the bright room. "Why is it so light?" "It's morning, Plankton," Karen replied. "And I believe you had quite the interesting dream." Plankton sat up, eye darting around the room. "The Krabby Patty recipe! Did I say something about it?" "You might have," Karen said coyly, her LED eyes gleaming. "Care to share your dream with me?" Plankton looked at her, his brain still fuzzy with sleep. "I don't remember much," his mind racing to piece together the fragments of his dream. "Just something about a locker and a portrait." Karen nodded. "Ah, yes. Your subconscious might have been onto something. Would you like me to make breakfast while you ponder your dream?" Plankton nodded, mind still swirling with hazy images from his sleep. "Coffee," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "And something light." "Of course," Karen said, already knowing his preferred morning meal. She began preparing coffee and a plate of toast with jellyfish jam. While the water boiled and the toaster popped, she couldn't help but replay his words. The picture was a detail she hadn't expected. A place to start, a thread to pull at in their quest for the recipe. As the aroma of the brewing coffee filled the air, Plankton's eyelid grew heavy once more. He slumped back down onto the couch, mind still entangled in the web of his dream. "Just a few more minutes," he mumbled, his body succumbing to the call of sleep. Karen observed him with a mix of concern and intrigue. She knew the importance of rest, but she couldn't help feel a sense of urgency about the revelation from his dream. Plankton had always been so guarded about his Krabby Patty obsession, and now a potential lead. But as seconds ticked by and Plankton's breathing grew deeper, she realized curiosity would have to wait. She gently covered him with a blanket she had folded neatly over the arm of the couch. His snores grew louder. The sunrise simulation had run its course, and the room was now bathed in the soft light of early morning. Plankton's features relaxed into a peaceful expression, free from the worries that etched his face during waking hours. Karen felt a strange sense of pity for him, this tiny creature who had dedicated life to one all-consuming goal. She brought the coffee and toast over to the coffee table, placing them within arm's reach of Plankton. As she set the tray down, the smell of the freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, but Plankton remained fast asleep. His hand twitched slightly, as if he were reaching for something in his dream. Karen studied his face, the lines of stress and determination that usually etched his features had smoothed out in sleep. His dream had been so vivid, and the mention of Mr. Krabs' locker and his mother's portrait was too specific to be coincidental. It was clear that Plankton's subconscious was trying to communicate something important. As the room grew brighter, the sunrise simulation fading into the background, Karen knew she had to act quickly. She gently placed a hand on Plankton's shoulder. "Plankton," she whispered, "I need you to remember your dream. It's important." He grunted and shifted under the blanket, but didn't wake. Karen knew to be careful. If she startled him too much, he might forget details. She tried a different approach. "You were dreaming about the Krabby Patty recipe," she said softly. "Can you tell me more?" "It was... in the locker," he murmured, his voice distant and dreamy. "Behind the picture of his mother." Karen's digital eyes widened. "Mr. Krabs' locker?" she prodded gently. "Yes... the secret... so close," Plankton mumbled, his hand moving in a grasping motion as if he were reaching for something in his sleep. Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart racing with excitement. "What did you find in the locker, Plankton?" she whispered, her voice a soft hum in the stillness of the room. Plankton's hand clenched into a fist, and he mumbled something unintelligible. She waited, her anticipation growing. Finally, his words grew clear. "The recipe... it's... in... a... safe." Karen's circuits sparked. A safe behind Mr. Krabs' mother's portrait? This was more than a mere hunch—it was a concrete lead. She needed to ensure Plankton didn't forget this vital piece of information when he awoke. "The safe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did the combination look like?" "Three... numbers," he murmured, his voice trailing off again. "Three numbers," Karen echoed, mind racing. "Can you remember them?" Plankton's fingers twitched again, as if typing on an invisible keyboard. "Two... six... seven," he murmured, voice fading away. Karen lit up, capturing the sequence. "Two, six, seven," she repeated, committing the numbers to her digital memory. "Plankton, stay with me," she urged softly. "Is there anything else you can tell about the safe?" But Plankton was already lost to the world of slumber, his hand dropping to his side. The finality of his silence told her that the moment had passed, and wouldn't be sharing any more secrets from his dream. With a sigh, she stood up and returned to the kitchen, her mind racing with possibilities. A safe behind a portrait was a classic hiding spot, but it was the kind of classic that Mr. Krabs would never see coming. Karen poured the coffee in a mug and placed it on the tray, the steam rising up and curling in the early morning light. The scent was strong just how Plankton liked it. She hoped the aroma would coax him back to consciousness without jolting him too much. As she approached the couch, she heard him mumble something about "the perfect bun" and "special sauce." It was clear that his dream was still lingering in the periphery of his waking mind. This was her chance. "Plankton," she said, her voice gentle. "What else did you see in the locker?" He stirred, his eye still closed. "The... bun... it's... so... soft..." Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart thumping with excitement. "The bun, Plankton? What about it?" "It's... it's... part of the secret," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The fluffiness... it's crucial." Karen's processors raced with the implications. Could it be that the Krabby Patty's allure was in the bun, not just the patty itself? The ingredients she had always seen Plankton focus on were the meat and the secret sauce. This was a revelation. "Fluffiness," she repeated, her digital mind filing away the word. "Can you tell me more about the bun?" But Plankton had already drifted too far into the depths of his slumber to respond. His breathing grew even and steady, his features relaxed once more. Karen let him rest, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the answer was so close she could almost taste it. Plankton's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, snores growing quieter as he descended to deeper slumber. Plankton's dream had provided a glimmer of hope, a potential shortcut in the quest for the Krabby Patty formula.

List of individuals living with supernumerary body parts as of AD 2024 Sat Sep 07 2024 13:24:17 A homeless cat has confounded its new carers after it was revealed it had two noses. A polymelic cow named Manny has "cephalomelia, where the attachment is on the head". A 5 legged cat named Lu, or Leggy Lu as she's known on TikTok As well as having 6 legs, Ariel the female spaniel also has two vulvae. The dog’s extra hind legs are fused together, having two hip joints on one side. Though, Ariel’s said to have some operations, possibly in order to amputate the excess appendages. Skipper, an Aussie/Border Collie mix puppy was born in Oklahoma with six legs. But vets at Neel Veterinary Hospital say she's doing well. Born in Oklahoma City, this Aussie/border collie mix was born with a pair of congenital disorders called monocephalus dipygus and monocephalus rachipagus dibrachius tetrapus. In non-vet speak, the results are a sweet little puppy who has a single head and chest cavity, but with most everything below that duplicated, including her urinary tracts and reproductive systems. Most noticeably to anyone not equipped with an x-ray machine, this has also given Skipper two tails and an extra pair of legs. Rare two-headed snake, 'Double Dave', found in US A two headed tortoise, called Janus, was born September 3, 1997 in the Museum of Natural History in Geneva, Switzerland. On Tuesday, January 16th @twoheaded.calf3 on TikTok says their polycephalic calf is doing well. Sorte, a Portugese turtle with polycephaly, has four front feet and two air pipes but one heart and intestinal system. And that, vets say, meant the turtle is one, not two, animals. Abby and Brittany Hensel, conjoined twins from the United States, though they identify as two individual people. Hannah Kersey is the Northam resident born with uterus didelphys, which is when a woman has two wombs instead of one Andreea Barbosa was born with two fully functioning uteri

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

ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᴾᵁ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ @ALYJACI ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" @ALYJACI

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 . . .

ᴮᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˣᵃˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐⁱˢʰᵃᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ᵒʳ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵒᵇˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 'ᵉᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ' ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ᵐᵃʳᵏᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ "ᴾᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶠᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧" "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧

r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago [deleted] «ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵗᵘˢ The Quickening We had always wanted kids. Negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test. I was beginning to wonder if we had waited too long. But then the stories started. Rumours at first. Classic internet forum gossip. Taking about declining birth-rates and increased birth defects. We assumed it was scaremongering, climate change activists trying to blame “chemicals” in the water or something. But the rumours didn’t stop. Pictures began emerging online of babies, being born around the world. They were all so similar and they made my blood run cold. They didn’t look like babies at all. Suddenly no one was picketing abortion clinics anymore. The authorities started to panic. They didn’t want the birthrate to drop to zero. All non-emergency scans were banned. All the babies being born are malformed, and normal/viable babies are exceedingly rare, very rare/non-existent. By the time I realised I was pregnant it was too late to do anything. There was rioting on the streets. We hadn’t left the house in days. The city was on fire. We bunkered down. I dreamed of a parasite growing inside of me, unable to see, unable to scream.. I reached up inside myself with household supplies. I couldn’t let the thing feed on me anymore. It felt like a bolt of lightning deep inside me. It took a long time. Blood dripped down my legs. I felt dizzy. But it would be worth it. I didn’t want it inside me anymore. The pain ripped through me and I felt like I was being torn apart but then suddenly in a gush of blood she was here. I was covered in sweat. I gasped for air and looked down at her. She was so tiny. She fit into the palm of my hand. She was still. And, she was perfect.

Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Shortest Date Ever “Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said. “Okay,” Brett replied. He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid. He picked it up. “I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder. “What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents. “It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago Thrawn911 I See How Much Time People Have Left I was around five when I first discovered this ‘superpower’. I looked up at my mom and saw something floating near her head. “39 YEARS” I had no idea what it meant, I was a child. Then my father came home. “3 YEARS” Next year, it was only “2 YEARS”. Then only one. Then it was “11 MONTHS.” I started to become scared. It was a countdown. I was afraid he would die when it reached zero. And he did. One morning, he went to work. The countdown said “4 MINUTES”. Half an hour later, we got a call from the police. He died in a car accident. I saw these numbers floating above every person’s head I met. It’s horrible. I saw how long my friends would live. After a few years, I just decided not to look there. I didn’t want to know when I would lose them. When I met my now-wife, I never looked at the number. Not even once, and we’ve been together for 12 years. I was on a business trip in another state with my coworkers when I facetimed my wife. I accidentally saw the number above her head. “5 DAYS” “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Nothing,” I answered. I slowly started panicking. “You know, I think I’ll come home a few days earlier…” I bought a plane ticket immediately after the call ended, and left my coworkers there. Five hours later, I was already on the plane, flying home. I can save her, I can save her, I repeated in my head. I won’t let her leave the house that day, she’ll be safe. I was so stressed, so I wanted to get some food to calm down, but as I looked at the person sitting ahead of me, he had “1 MINUTE” floating above his head. He’ll probably get a heart attack soon. I looked at the person sitting beside me. “1 MINUTE” Everyone on the plane had “1 MINUTE” floating above their heads. Then the plane started to shake. “Dear passengers, it’s the pilot,” he said through the speakers. “The weather is quite bad here, there’s a bit of turbulence..”

FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste

ᔆʰᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᵁˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁿᵉʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ! "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃ ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" "ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵉᵖʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ‧ "ᴳᵃʳʸ⸴ ʰᵉʸ; ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ'ˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵃⁿᶜⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ʳⁱˢᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ⁱᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʰⁱˡˡᵃˣ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᶻ'ˢ‧‧" "ᴬʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵘˢ! ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢʰᵉ 'ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ' ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰ‧‧

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago Switch_B My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately. Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'

Guerrero de Dios KMApok "¿Si Dios existe, ¿por qué hay tanto mal en el mundo?" Es una pregunta común, pero está fuera de lugar. Todas las cosas deben tener equilibrio. Luz y oscuridad. Bien y mal. Sonido y silencio. Sin uno, el otro no puede existir. "¿Entonces, si eso es cierto, Dios NO HACE NADA para luchar contra el mal?" Esa podría ser tu siguiente pregunta. Por supuesto que lucha contra el mal. Implacablemente. Yo soy Dartalian, uno de sus ángeles más santos y justos. Recorro la Tierra, eliminando el mal dondequiera que lo encuentre. Mato a los monstruos de los que nunca quieres saber. Los aplasto por completo para que puedas dormir por la noche. Ustedes, los humanos, no tienen idea de cuántos de ustedes viven gracias al trabajo que hago. "¿Pero qué pasa con Stalin? ¿Hîtler? ¿Ted Bundy? ¿Jack el Destripador?" Bueno, esos son los menores que tuve que dejar vivir. Por equilibrio. Los que destruyo son... demasiado horribles y viles para sobrevivir. Lo curioso es que, aunque apostaría a que nunca has oído el nombre Dartalian en ningún texto religioso, apuesto a que has oído hablar de mí. Los estadounidenses, por ejemplo, tienen su propio nombre para mí. Síndrome de Muerte Súbita del Lactante

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago EvantheNerd83 A Perfect Baby 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 A Perfect Baby When she was born, Little Jamie got all the attention. Her mother cradled her in her arms and the doctors and nurses who were present crowded around them. They peered over the shoulders of their coworkers. They wanted to see the most perfect baby in the world. And Little Jamie was perfect. She had bright blue eyes that shone like sapphires, such a deep shade that it reflected the sky. A pink and soft body. She glowed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room, an angel delivered in mortal form. Everyone stared and cooed and stroked her puffy cheeks, took out their cameras and took pictures when they could, complimented her mother for conceiving such a lovely child. Her mother blushed in embarrassment and scratched her black hair. It was a joyful reception until the armed men in the uniforms stepped in to the room. Laughter died. Awkward coughing ensued. It was time to follow the rules. The symbol pinned to their chests declared as much. Little Jamie was handed over to them, their stoic expressions remaining untainted as they walked out. Her mother watched and begged and screamed. But, the nurses held her back. Urged her to be quiet. For her own sake. Little Jamie's newborn wailing cut-off down the hallway. The elevator door had closed. Now, she was downstairs with the others. Little Jamie was perfect, but mortal perfection wasn't acceptable. She had to be Aryan.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣾⠛⠻⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡏⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣷⣀⣀⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⢰⡿⠋⢉⣹⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡉⠙⢿⡆ ⢸⣇⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⣄⣸⡗ ⠈⢻⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡟⠁ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...

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

4891ecnatsiser resu tidder ot tiderC ?eid elpoep woh ees ot rewop eht rof hsiw reve I did yhW .mitciv tohsnuG .kcab eht ni nepo nwolb si daeh ym :rorrim weiv-raer eht ni noitcelfer railimaf ym ees dna pu kool I yllautnevE .leehw gnireets eht no daeherof ym nael I sa htaerb ym hctac yllanif I rac ym nI .nac I sa tsaf sa rood eht tuo hsur I .mitciv nruB .erifpmac a otni llef taht god toh a fo ycnetsisnoc eht si sdnah dna ecaf sih no niks ehT .tnorf erots eht ta senizagam hguorht gnikool nam a ees I yletaidemmI .tixe eht sdrawot nrut dna sgab ym barg I ,reh gniknahT .lla ta gnihtyna dloh nac ti desirprus m’I delgnam os dnah a ni egnahc ym kcab sevig ehs yap I retfA .roolf eht sdrawot nwod kcab ezag ym pans I .tnedicca rac a ylbaborP .edis tfel eht no ni devac yletelpmoc si daeh s’reihsac ehT .pu ecnalg I dna revo sniw ytisoiruC .tnasaelP .ecin sdnuos eciov reH .roolf eht ot elbmum I ”,mmh-mM“ .yllausac sksa ehs ”?yako gnihtyreve dnif uoy diD“ .diova ot elpoep rewef thgin ta gnippohs og ylno I yhw s’tahT .elpoep rehto htiw tcatnoc eye gnidiova yb yteixna ym hguorht teg ot tseisae ti dnif I .roolf eht ta erats I sa rennacs eht ssorca smeti ym sepiws reihsac ehT thgin ta gnippohs og ylno I | 5102 ,ts13 hcraM ,yadseuT

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/

r/shortscarystories 12 hr. ago Wellsong Mrs. Johnson's wise decision Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit. “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an expression of reverent concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter closing, half a second before the last candle went out. Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and consternation. “I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and empty again. The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d never been part of the scene at all. “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you want some, Mummy?”

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛⁱʳᵘˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ “ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ’ˢ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵃˢ, ᵒⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵃˢⁱᵒⁿ, ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵃˡᵇᵉⁱᵗ ᵃᵇˢᵉⁿᵗᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˢʸ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒʲᵉᶜᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧‧” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ…” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ “ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ…” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡᵉᵈ ᵘʳᵍᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧ “ᴵ’ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ “ᴰᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵃᵇˡᵉ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ “ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵘʳ ʷᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿⁿⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵃʳʸ‧” “ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ; ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!” ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃᵗ‧ ᴬˢ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢʰᵉ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?” “ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷᵃʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵛⁱʳᵘˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ; ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ…” “ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ, ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ “ᴹᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” “ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ!” “ᴴᵒʷ’ˢ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ?” ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᵂʰᵃᵗ’ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ…” ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧

"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."

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

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 days ago KindaNotSmart The Daily Call Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do. But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV. For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold. “Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.” “What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?” There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.” “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.” “Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.” My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address. And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door. The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.

https://www.midol.com/about-my-period

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Join Name of the Shame I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this. I do now. The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them. After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor. Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me. That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do. One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce. The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US. Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd. Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received. Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted. So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer. No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake. Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 23 hr. ago dccub86 Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed. Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.

ᶠᵒʳ ᴴᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʳᵘᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 3 4 2 ⟩ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴼʷ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜʳᵃᵈˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉ ᵃˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒᵗʸᵖᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧" ᴰᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ᴼᵘᶜʰ‧" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" ᵀʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃⁿᶜᵉˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉˡˡʸ ʳᵘᵇˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ʰᵒʷ ⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵍᵘʸ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ 'ᵉᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᑫᵘⁱʳʳᵉˡ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ‧‧" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴬˡˢᵒ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ'ˢ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ᶜᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵏᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧"

”‧‧ᵘᵒʸ ᵉᵛᵒˡ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵏ ᵗˢᵘᴶ“ ‧ˢʸᵃˢ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ”!ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ᵉᵏᵃʷᵃ ᵉʳ’ᵘᵒʸ ᵈᵃˡᵍ ʰᵒ ⁿᵒᵈˡᵉʰᔆ“ ”…ᵉʳᵉʰʷ ,ᵃᵂ“ ‧ᵒᵗ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁱʰ ᵈᵉⁿᵉᵖᵒ ʸˡʷᵒˡˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ”…ˢᵏʳᵒʷ ᵗⁱ ᵉᵖᵒʰ ᴵ“ ‧ʸˡᵈᵉⁱʳʳᵒʷ ʸʳᵉⁿⁱʰᶜᵃᵐ ᵉʰᵗ ᵖᵘ ᵈᵉᵏᵒᵒʰ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ”‧‧ⁿʳᵘᵗᵉʳ ⁿⁱ ᵉᶠⁱˡ ⁿʷᵒ ʳᵘᵒʸ ᵏᶜᵃᵇ ᵗᵉᵍ ᵘᵒʸ ᵖˡᵉʰ ᵉᵐ ᵗᵉˡ ʷᵒⁿ ᵒˢ ᵉᶠⁱˡ ᵒᵗ ᵍⁿⁱᵉᵇ ᵗⁿᵉⁱᵗⁿᵉˢ ᵃ ᵉᵐ ᵗˡⁱᵘᵇ ᵘᵒʸ ʷᵒⁿᵏ ᴵ“ ‧ᵉʳᵒᶠᵉᵇ ᵉˢᵘ ᵐⁱʰ ʷᵃˢ ᵉʰˢ ˢⁱʰ ᶠᵒ ᵉⁿⁱʰᶜᵃᵐ ᵃ ᵈᵉʳᵃᵖᵉʳᵖ ᵉʰˢ ˢᵃ ᵉˡᵇᵃᵗ ᵉʰᵗ ⁿᵒ ʸᵈᵒᵇ ˢⁱʰ ᵗᵘᵖ ᵉʰᔆ ‧ᵖˡᵉʰ ᵗʰᵍⁱᵐ ᵗᵃʰʷ ʳᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵏᵒᵒˡ ᵉʰˢ ˢᵃ ᵈᵉˢᵘᵃᵖ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ”…ᵉᵐᵒˢ ᵉᵛᵃʰ ᵃᵗᵗᵒᵍ ᵘᵒʸ“ ‧ᵇᵃˡ ʳⁱᵉʰᵗ ᵒᵗ ᵈⁿᵃᵇˢᵘʰ ˢˢᵉˡᵉᶠⁱˡ ʳᵉʰ ᵏᵒᵒᵗ ᵉʰᔆ ‧ᵗˢᵃᶠ ᵗᶜᵃ ᵒᵗ ᵈᵉᵈᵉᵉⁿ ᵉʰᔆ ‧ᵈᵉⁱʳᶜ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ”…ᵉᵐ ʳᵒᶠ ,ᵉˢᵃᵉˡᵖ ᵗˢᵘᴶ !ᵖᵘ ᵉᵏᵃʷ ,ᵒⁿ ;ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ʰᴼ“ ‧ᵇᵃʳᴷ ʸᵗˢᵘʳᴷ ᵉʰᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶠ ᵍⁿⁱⁿʳᵘᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵗᶠᵃ ˢᵈⁿᵃʰ ʳᵉʰ ⁿⁱ ʸˡᵖᵐⁱˡ ᵍⁿⁱʸᵈ ᵈⁿᵃᵇˢᵘʰ ⁿʷᵒ ʳᵉʰ ᵈᵉʰᶜᵗᵃʷ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ‧ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ʸᵇ ʸˡˡᵃᶜⁱᵗⁿᵃʳᶠ ’ᵖᵘ ᵉᵏᵃʷ ⁿᵒᵈˡᵉʰᔆ‘ ˢʳᵃᵉʰ ʷᵉⁿᵏ ᵉʰ ᵍⁿⁱʰᵗ ᵗˢᵃˡ ᵉʰᵀ ‧ᵈˡʳᵒʷ ᵉʰᵗ ᵒᵗ ᶠᶠᵒ ᵗᵘʰˢ ᵈᵉˢᵒˡᶜ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁱʰ ˢᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ᵈⁱᵃˢ ”‧‧ᵘᵒʸ ᵉᵛᵒᴸ“ ‧ᵉᶠⁱʷ ˢⁱʰ ᵒᵗ ᵗʳᵒᶠᶠᵉ ᵗˢᵃˡ ˡˡᵃ ᵈᵉˢᵘ ᵉʰ ˢᵃ ᵈᵉᵈᵃᶠ ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ”…ᵉᵐ ᵒᵗ ᵈᵒᵒᵍ ᵒˢ ,ᵈᵒᵒᵍ ᵉʳ’ᵘᵒʸ“ ”‧‧ᵈᵒᵒˡᵇ ᶠᵒ ᵗᵒˡ ᵃ ᵗˢᵒˡ ᵘᵒʸ ;ⁿᵉᵗˢⁱˡ ᵈⁿᵃ ᵉᵐ ʰᵗⁱʷ ʸᵃᵗˢ ᵒᵗ ᵘᵒʸ ᵈᵉᵉⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵒᵈˡᵉʰᔆ“ ‧ˢᵈⁿᵃʰ ʳᵉʰ ⁿⁱ ᵖᵘ ᵐⁱʰ ᵈᵉᵏᶜⁱᵖ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ”…ᵘᵒʸ ᵉᵛᵒˡ ᴵ ʷᵒᴴ ‧ʸʳʳᵒˢ ᵐ’ᴵ ‧ᵘᵒʸ ᵉᵛᵒˡ ᴵ ʰᴼ ‧ᵈᵉⁱʳᵗ ᴵ ,ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ“ ”‧‧ⁿᵒᵈˡᵉʰᔆ“ ‧ᵍⁿⁱᵈᵉᵉˡᵇ ˢ’ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ʷᵃˢ ᵉᶠⁱʷ ʳᵉᵗᵘᵖᵐᵒᶜ ᵉʰᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵃᴷ ‧ᵈⁿᵘᵒʳᵍ ᵉʰᵗ ⁿᵒ ᵈᵒᵒˡᵇ ⁿʷᵒ ˢⁱʰ ᶠᵒ ˡⁱᵃʳᵗ ᵃ ᵗᶠᵉˡ ⁿᵒᵗᵏⁿᵃˡᴾ ⁾ᶜⁱᶠⁿᵃᶠ ᵇᵒᴮᵉᵍⁿᵒᵖᔆ⁽ ᵉʳᵃᶜᔆ ʳᵉᴴ

https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago 54321RUN "It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after my daughter's birth. But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later.

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 mo. ago FredStyx My journey of Reincarnation As soon as I died I forgot who I was in life, I passed into the afterlife and was cordially advised that reincarnation was a reality of one's soul and was an important lesson in my soul journey. Due to a few poor choices I made during life, I was told I needed to pay my karmic debt back by reincarnating one individual life cycle for every person I let down during my own life. Once I completed all these life cycles, my slate would be wiped clean and I would finally be free to ascend upwards to the next realm. It sounded like a fair deal to me. To my disgust though, my reincarnation journey started off as a rat! I lived my first disgusting, lonely existence for 3-months before my neck was snapped in a rat-trap. My next life as a house mouse lasted about 4 weeks before a giant boot crushed me while I was nibbling bread crumbs on a kitchen floor.. I still remember the intense pain of my little bones breaking. Since then I've been poisoned, drowned, diseased and lived in the most filthy conditions.. I can't remember how many miserable, humiliating ways I've died but they were all dreadful. Just a week ago I starved to death on a glue mat trying to reach a block of cheese, it took a week to die just from starvation! I didn't always respawn as a rat or mouse though, sometimes I was a cockroach or a flea, but those life cycles weren't too pleasant either and always ended painfully. I'm sure I must be getting close to completing all these life cycles by now! Something's been feeling really off lately...I feel like I've done this thousands of times already. I don't remember what it is I did though? The power of memory of my human life was taken from me. It can't have been this bad though? I feel like I'm being unfairly punished. The other weird thing is that at the start of each life I see words appear in my field of vision, and my most recent life-cycle appeared like this: 'Name: Adolf Hitler. Deaths Caused: 85,000,000 Death Debt Remaining: 84,645,200' I can barely read, and I don't know who that guy was or what he or I did when I was him, but I sure hope those words mean I've nearly paid this debt off by now, I've had quite enough indeed. I hate being vermin, it's just so cruel and demeaning. And I really hope that one day for me, there might be a final solution.

Wanna search something specific her? be it fanfic or drama, lists of tags on the following sites: https://kitugame.com/tagging https://bestnickname.com/tags

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

benevola • 2y ago I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down. Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.

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

@KarmaticIrony • 3y ago • Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In fact some processes are probably running in the background. Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/

ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ; ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵗᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 4 8

ᴺᵘʳˢᵉ ᴾᵃᵗ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ [ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖˡᵃʸᶤᶰᵍ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ] ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᵎ [ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: [ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ] [ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵘᶰ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴸᵒᶰᵍᵎ [ʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒʷˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᶤˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ ʰᶤᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ] ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ: [ᴮᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷʰᵉᶰ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰˡʸ ʰᶤᵗ ᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ; ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶤᶰ ʳᵒˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ˒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ] [ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵉᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ˡᵒᵒᵏᶤᶰᵍ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴴᵉʸ ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˀ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᴾᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢˑˑˑ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴴᵘʰˀ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: [ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ] ˢᵉᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢ ᵒᵘᵗᵎ [ˡᵉᵃᶰˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ˢᵒ˒ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ᶜᵖʳˀ [ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ] ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: [ᵗᵘʳᶰˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ] ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ᑦᴾᴿ ᶰᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸˑ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: [ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵃᵇ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᶤᶰᵍ] ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: [ʳᵉᵗʳᶤᵉᵛᵉˢ ʰᶤˢ ᵃʳᵐ'ˢ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ ʷᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗᶰ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᶰˡᵉˢˢ ʷᵉ ᵃᵇˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉˡʸ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵎ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴵˢ ʰᵉˑˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉˑ [ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ˢᵉᵉᶰ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˡᶤᵛᵉᵎ [ˢᵠᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᵗᶤᵍʰᵗ ʰᵘᵍ] ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᴱᵃˢʸ˒ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏᵎ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: [ᴰʳᵒᵖˢ ʰᶤᵐ] ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ: ᵞᵒʷᵎ ᵂʰᵃˑˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᵞᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ [ˢᶤᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵘᵖ] ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵉᵗᵎ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴼʰ˒ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑ [ᴸᵉᵃᶰˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ] ᴴᶤ˒ ᴵ'ᵐ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏˑ [ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵖᵒᶤᶰᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ ˢᵗᵃʳᵎ ᴬᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶰᵃᵐᵉ ᶤˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ˢᵃʸ ᶤᵗ˒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵉˑˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: [ᴵᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ˒ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍˡᵃʳᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᶰᵒʸᵉᵈ] ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᶤᵗ'ˢˑˑˑ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵒʷᵉʳˑ ᴹᵉ˒ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏˑˑˑ ᵞᵒᵘ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᴺᵒ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃᶰˑˑˑ [ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒᵖᵖˡᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ] ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᶜᵖʳ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰˑˑˑ [ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵖᵘᶰᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ ᵃʷᵃʸ] ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶠᶤᶰᵉˑˑˑ [ᶠᵃˡˡˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵘˢʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵘᵖ] ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶰᵒʷ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏˑ [ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ] ᵞᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ˒ ʷᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ [ᵖᶤᶜᵏˢ ᵘᵖ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ] ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᶜᶤᵈᵉᶰᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗˑˑˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ: ᴴᵒʷ ˡᵒᶰᵍ ᵃᵍᵒˀ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ: ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᶤᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ˒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉᶰᵗˢ ᵃᵍᵒᵎ ᴾᵃᵗʳᶤᶜᵏ: ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ: ᴵ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉˑˑ [ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵒʷᶰ ʷᵃʸˢ]

The Little Girl That Cheated At Everything Te_Odio Winners never cheat, And cheaters never win, I guess whoever said that, Never knew Victoria Flynn. 23RD JUN 2017 I guess whoever said that, Never knew Victoria Flynn. She got the best grades, And always beat everyone at games, She was a popular child, And all the children knew her name. Adopted by wealthy parents, Who were never around. Even though it might be lonelч, That didn’t get her down. Although she was very clever, That’s not how she always won, You see Victoria was a cheater, And to her it was most fun. But she wasn’t loved by all, Popularity breeds hatred, Human beings despise anyone, Who’s ego is inflated. A group of little girls, All angry and full of enׁvy, Came up with a plan, That would throw everyone in a frenzy. They invited her to a sleepover, Where they would play a silly game, Of “Chubby Bunny” and they’d, take a photo that would tarnish her name. It wasn’t supposed to end like that, It was supposed to be a joke. How could they possibly have known, That she’d choke? The girls went into panic, They quietly cried. They decided to hide her bødy in the trash, “Her mama came to get her” they lied. To all of their surprise, Victoria was back to school on Monday, As if nothing had happened two nights ago. The girls were silent, what could they say? Now to step a moment away from girls, And instead talk about a little boy, He was quiet and not very popular, His name was Seth Roy. Seth wondered why the girls were silent, And why Victoria scared them so. It was none of his busıness, But he just had to know. He kept an eye on Victoria, But she acted all the same, She was good in class, ate her lunch, And still won all the games. The girls however were different, In class they didn’t speak, At lunch they didn’t eat, That was the start of the strange week. The next day one of the girls was absent, The red head named Lenore. Her friends were in shock, She’d never been absent before. On Wednesday Bianca was gone, And Lenore still hasn’t returned. The last two remaining girls were quıet. It was obvious why they were concerned. Thursday Haruka wasn’t there, On that day Lenore was reported missing, Most likely so was Bianca, The last girl’s safety was not promısıng. Friday took Nia, And so all girls were gone. The class seemed much more quıet, Except Victoria, who smıles like she won. But Seth continued wondering, What had gone on between the girls. He wanted to find answers, He’d have to give it a whirl. He folloɯed Victoria after school, It seemed that she was just going home. Seth started to question his thoughts, Maybe he should just leave her alonȩ? Her house seemed pretty normal, She walked up to her door, Turned around and said, “How long will you be folloɯıng me for?” Seth knew had been caught, So he came out of hiding. She told him to leave, And gave him a note with some writing. “Come by tomorrow at 3” it said. With that she smıles and went inside, Why did she have that on her? How’d she know he’d følløw and hide? He decided he’d do as he was told, After all he’d been caught. He wondered if he should come prepared, He decided, “Why not?” He was outside Victoria’s house, And before he could knock the door opened, Victoria stood there looking very tıred, Like she had just awoken. She invited him inside, Her house seemed very old, The place smelled quite terrible, And the air was very cøld. They descended towards her basement, Where he saw the source of the smell. 6 rotting corpses, 2 big and 4 small, Seth felt like he’d seen Helll. Behind him he heard Victoria speak, “I have always won”. He turned around quickly, But Victoria was gone. He turned once more, The corpses disappeared! He walked back up the stairs, Where he notıced something weırd. There were many pictures of Victoria, With different people, clothes, and hair. Her expressıon stayed the same, She smirked with a glArE. That’s when it hit him, The horrible realization had came to Seth, That Victoria Flynn, Cheated Death.

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ, ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧”𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧.

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.

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."

ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ (𝟾𝟸ғ) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪsʜᴇs (𝟷𝟼) ʙᴜᴛ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴛɴɪᴛᴇ (𝟹 ᴋɪʟʟs) sᴏ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɢʀᴀʙʙᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴇʀ (ᴅᴜᴀʟsʜᴏᴄᴋ 𝟺) ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ ɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ (𝟷𝟹𝟾ᴋᴘʜ). sʜᴇ ʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ (𝟷𝟾 ʏᴇᴀʀs). ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɪɴᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ʀɪᴏᴛs (𝟹) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ ᴀ ɢᴀɴɢ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴍᴜɢɢʟɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴜɢs (ᴄᴏᴄᴀɪɴᴇ) ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ. ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀssᴀssɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛɪᴇs (ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ, ᴇʟᴠɪs ᴘʀᴇsʟᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴇғғʀᴇʏ ᴇᴘsᴛᴇɪɴ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀɪsᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ (𝟿/𝟷𝟷). ʀᴇᴅᴅɪᴛ, ᴀɪᴛᴀ?

There's No Reason to Be Afraid By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster ~ When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

Alphonse "At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'"

A Curious Warning • March 6 2015 • RusticEyesore Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately. Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door. "What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming." I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation: The note had come from under the closet door.

r/shortscarystories 24 days ago GuyAwks Forget Me Anniversary Not What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary? And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary. I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction. Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up. So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago. But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came. By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed. “Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me. I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. “Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.” Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim. “Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!” “He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.” “Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?” To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare They all laughed at me I suppose you could say I was bullied. It would start with some simple na͠me calling. The second they started in on me I could feel b!ood rushing to my fac͘e. It made them more relentless. I tried to avoid them, but they always found me. They pitch me, kick me, bug me. The paın was made so much worse because this sort of ab3se should never been from famıly. And my parents did nothing. They all hate. I did me too. I wasn't as sm͢art, or as talented as my siblings. I had nothıng to offer my famıly. I wanted to earn their lòvè, but all of my attempts just drove them further away. I had almost given up h̴ope. And then the day came. I had just encountered my nightly bearing. I lifted myself off the floor, slowly, but my oldest brother lıcked me again. I hit the floor once more. I listened to them laugh as I drag myself over the cøld ground and into the darkness. When I was far enough away to just barely hear their laughter, I let myself collapse onto the snow. I cried for a very long time. All wanted now to dıe. I awoke some time later to my father's voice. "Son, wake up. I need your help." My father needed me. This was my chance to make him proud. Before I knew it, it was time. My father told me exactly what to do. I wasn't sure I could do it, but he reassured me. "I believe in you." No one had ever said that to me before. My face grew hot again, but I did as my father said. This time no one laughed. But it didn't matter. I heard the laughing in my head. I felt the attacks‎ all over again. I remembered the bloodƴ těars, the paın caused by my siblings. I remembered my father doing nothıng. My despair turned to anger, and my anger turned to hate. And in that moment, I realized the one quality in myself that might be considered admirable. I was brave. I whispered it to myself over and over. I said it until I started to make myself believe it. And then, I looked toward the ground beneath me. With my siblings on my heels and my father trailing behind, I led them down. My face grew hot, hotter than ever. "Rudolph, what are you doing?!" I could feel my father pulling on the reins, but I was determined. I was brave. I kept going down until I met the concrete. My eight siblings followed. And then my father. Here's the thing about magic... It wasn't enough to save us that night. But it tried. It made their dEAth slow and agonizing. But me? I smiled and I felt my face grow hotter and hotter. I knew my nose was shining brighter than ever before. And no one was laughing.

Go to tinyhorribles r/tinyhorribles 5 days ago therealdocturner Silence Is Violence The alley is dark. I see my breath in the frigid air. My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either side. It’s narrow. The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from the bricks of the alley as I walk past them. The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over. The alley is go̕ne. Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people yelling. I smell soap. I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I run into the dark̵. God, help me. There are lights in front of me. I move forward. I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted. Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman Numerals are carved into their foreheads. My chest exploded in paın. My hometown is go̶ne. Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. My shirt is open. I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children with accusatory eyes surround me on the street. They’re pointing, at me. The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in agøny. Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons and I feel my own spit running down my neck. POP POP POP Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine. Two days later. My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and thankful I pulled through. She stays until I make her go home. My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the children that I saw. I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother. I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. He’s got to turn himself in. He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.

C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ

r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?

r/shortscarystories 1 mo. ago Haunting-Buyer8532 All of our children keep dy1ng. This all started when our first child, Amy, was born. She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that. She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed. Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories? I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”. I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one. My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her… I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed. I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children. I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent. Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter. Just like I did with Amy and Elise.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 days ago Old_Lady_In_Titanic Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship. Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 hr. ago jesth857 I Watched As My Son Slowly Turned Blue After Tasting My Food From DoorDash Will they ever stop trying to poison me?

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

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

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