Psychocore Emojis & Text

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago ForgottenWell My Perfect Wife, My Beautiful Baby Daughter Love at first sight is real, I know because it happened to me. I was a freshman in highschool when I saw her, and I knew I’d love her for ever. We dated all through high school and college. When we graduated we got marrıed. We were yøung, but wanted a kid. The pregnancy was easy for her, and somehow even giving bırth went smooth. But the day I got my beautiful daughter my wife changed. I’ve heard of postpartum dépression, but this was extreme. It was instant. Even in the hospıtal she wouldn’t hold our daughter. Days påssed. Weeks. At night when our daughter crièd it was I who consoled her. My wife was always near tears. She refused to acknowledge our daughter even existed. Until one day, I heard our daughter crying. She must have woken up from her nap. I went into the room. My wife was standing over the baby crib with a pi]low, going to suffoc4te her. I ran to my wife and smacked her hands, knocking the pi]low away. It wasn’t lost on me this was the first time I’d ever been phүsical with my wife. Later, I checked on my wife who was sound asleep in our bedroom. Back in the hall, I looked at both doors: my wife’s and daughter’s. I decided that one of them would have to go. My perfect wife would never be happy as long as our daughter lived. My beautiful daughter would never have a fulfilling life if my wife wanted her gone. Adoptıon? Divorce? Neither would settle this. Not truly settle it. No, if I wanted a happy life, I needed to end this tonight. I took the pi]low firmly in my hands, silently entered the room, and decided to go murderously suffoc4te ...

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

They said I wouldn't last 5 minutes in the old haunted house. And yet, here I am still 130 years later.

r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago iiHighwind Extinction She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. It was eons ago that she had first awoken in that bleak and dreary place with neither memories nor purpose. The inhabitants were content to go about their everyday lives and ignored all of her attempts to communicate. Rejected and alone, she retreated to her own desolate corner and spent her days in a daze. As the days turned to years, and the inhabitants grew old, died and were replaced by their descendants, she alone remained untouched by the passage of time. Isolated and driven nearly to the point of madness, she cursed at the heavens, believing her isolation and solitude to be some form of punishment for past sins. But one day, out of the blue, something miraculous happened. She became pregnant. It was an impossible pregnancy. She hadn't had any relations with any of the inhabitants after all. But to her, it didn't matter. The birth of her child would be the death of her solitude. And so ages passed, and her child had given birth to children of her own, and them children of their own. All immaculate conceptions. All untouched by time. She had become the founder of a community. Ignored by the inhabitants, her community thrived. She was finally happy. But alas, her happiness was not to be. Everything changed when the men in white attacked. Perhaps one of her great great great grandchildren had wandered into their territory, or perhaps they had taken offence at some unknown transgressions. She had no idea. The men in white ignored all attempts to negotiate, ignored her pleas, ignored the cries of her children, ignored their cries of surrender. And to her horror, she discovered that even though they were immune to the passage of time, they were mortals just like everyone else. They descended like a force of nature, cleaving through her community and exterminating anyone they came across with extreme prejudice. No one was spared, not even the original inhabitants. Reeling in grief as the men in white surrounded her, she had lashed out, determined to bring as many of them with her as she possibly could. She would fight tooth and nail. She would make them suffer. Now, as she lay in a field of carnage, limbs torn asunder, she could only lament at the heavens. "Why?! Why give me a fleeting moment of happiness only to cruelly snatch it away from me? What horrible sin did I commit?" A brilliant flash of all enveloping white light robbed her of her sight, disintegrating her mangled body and obliterating all traces of what was once her community. She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. Now, her kind was no more. ‐----‐---------------------------------------------------------------- "Ma'am, the test results are back. The radiation therapy worked. You're officially cancer free."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago thethingthatwill Time travel exists, but it's more horrifying than you can imagine. Time travel exists. Kind of. Hundreds of years from now, future humans are going to think the form of time travel we have is archaic, akin to a manual typewriter or a telegraph. That’s basically as far as the technology has advanced— with the development of the FUTRMSG system, we can send short text-based messages back in time. The current limits can only send it back 24 hours. But through that miracle we can change our past. Avoid disaster, bypass financial ruin. Cheat death. As long as it fits within the short character limit, you can send yourself any kind of warning or advice, the reality around us automatically accommodates the changes you make. But unless it affects our lives, we can’t even feel or perceive reality changing around us. At first, this messaging system was confined within government headquarters, but once the private FUTRMSG company replicated the technology, this miraculous technology was made available to the public. Kind of. When I say “available to the public”, I don’t really mean the public. The system is exorbitantly, prohibitively expensive. It costs many times more than most families’ annual salary to send even one message. But for some that’s just a drop in the bucket, and our society has splintered even farther into the very very rich and the extremely desolate poor. The rich have infinite re-do buttons they can push to create perfect, error-free lives. And the rest of us suffer in the dirt. I’ve obsessively imagined changing my past, avoiding the spectacular misfortunes I’ve had. I once dreamed that I sent a message to my past self, telling my husband not to get on the bus the day a crash ripped his body to shreds. But as the dream started to melt away, I woke up to my filthy, tiny home, with my young son Luke tugging at my sleeve about how hungry he was. Sobbing. My heart breaks for him. Luke is all I have left. The reality is that when my husband died, I spent the 24 hours after the accident frantically begging for money on the streets, among the teeming crowds of unfortunates pleading for help. My city is a sea of poverty and purgatory for the dead, waiting in limbo to be resuscitated by a message from the future. But they almost always stay dead. Tonight there was a knock at my door, and a small, glowing capsule was delivered. A message. From FUTRMSG. What? How could a version of me 24 hours in the future possibly afford this? What could this be, how could it be more dire than my husband’s death? I press my thumb into the white orb as it scans my thumbprint and… Oh m. The color drains from my face as I read the message. I start shaking. How could I have possibly sent this? What… what happens? I read the words again and again and yet they still say: KILL LUKE RIGHT NOW I BEG YOU

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago Yumifire 14,280,786 14,280,786 That’s the number I was born with. A red scar carved into my left arm that shocked all who saw it. Especially when it changed. Yes I was born with a number counting down every minute. Do you know how long that many minutes are? 27 years, 2 months, 19 days, 13 hours and 46 minutes. No one really understood it. Mother made me cover it. It was the family secret and I was never to show it to anyone. Grandmother I think was the closest to understanding, as soon as she saw it she muttered “death curse” and ordered me to never bother her again. What would you do if you knew exactly when you were going to die? But you never knew how? It’s impossible to have something like this and not have it affect every part of your life. Why try hard in school? I would never have a career. Never be normal. Why have a girlfriend or children if I couldn’t grow old with anyone? As time went on, I guess I found that I was just best alone. Had a few one time dates, but I guess it just didn’t work for me. I pushed everyone away, even mother. Finally the day came. I had decisions to make. Should I drink myself unconscious and hope I sleep through it? But I didn’t want to end up one of those bodies found months after death. That’s what led me to go for a walk, areas that are regularly visited. Who knows, maybe someone could save me? I admit I was scared, despite all the time I had to prepare myself. I didn’t want to die With 10 minutes left I went on my walk. Best to avoid crossing any roads. I plotted my route carefully, but that’s what led me to him. 3 minutes to go was when he blocked my path with demands for money. What money? Wouldn’t you spend it all if you were dying soon? He became agitated and pulled out a gun. At least I know what I’m dying from now. 2 minutes to go, I begged him not to kill me but he didn't listen. He’s trying to scare me but his finger is resting on the trigger. It would just take one knock. 1 minute to go, I thought about how unfair this all was. I want to live so badly. So that’s when I jumped him and fought for the gun. Stupid I know but I had to try. And that’s when the gun fired. The blood soaked my left arm and the man slumped over, taking his last breath. I didn’t mean to kill him. I stared in horror at the corpse in the pool of blood in front of me. It took me far too long to realise how much time had passed. I wiped away the blood to check. The number had changed. 170,012 3 months, 26 days, 2 hours and 12 minutes.

----///-\\\----ιf уσυ нανє єνєя fєℓт ---|||---|||---αℓσиє ---|||---|||---нαтє∂ ---|||---|||---ѕυι¢ι∂αℓ ----\\\-///----αρραтнєтι¢ -----\\///-----∂єρяєѕѕє∂ ------///\-----σя -----///\\\----נυѕт ----///--\\\---fєєℓ ιи ραιи ---///----\\\--ρυт тнιѕ σи уσυя ¢нαииєℓ

In the original story of "Peter Pan", Peter murders the Lost Boys when they seem to grow too old to still live in Neverland, because being an adult in this place is against the rules. In the middle of a battle against pirates, he would sometimes even switch sides and start killing Lost Boys for fun.

💊💔🧠

one's mother matricide one's parent(s) parenticide one's brother fratricide one's sister sororicide one's husband mariticide, viricide one's wife uxoricide one's son or daughter filicide, prolicide a close relative parricide father Patricide woman femicide, gynecide, gynaecide an infant infanticide a fetus aborticide, feticide, foeticide old men senicide a king regicide a lord or master hericide a philosopher philosophicide a prophet or poet vaticide a tsar czaricide a bishop episcopicide an apprentice prenticecide a Brahmin Brahminicide, Brahmanicide a Spartacus member Sparticide a modernist modernicide a guest or host hospiticide a favorite nepoticide a friend ambicide an enemy hosticide a heretic hereticide, heretocide a tyrant tyrannicide of bears ursicide of birds avicide, birdicide of boars apricide of bulls tauricide of cats felicide chickens or turkeys gallinicide of cows vaccicide of deer cervicide of dogs canicide of fish piscicide of fowls gallicide of fox vulpicide of goats hiricide of kangaroos macropocide of leeches hirudicide of mice muricide of moles talpicide of oxen bovicide of partridges perdricide of reptiles herpecide, herpicide of snakes serpenticide of snails/molluscs molluscacide of vermin verminicide of whales ceticide of wolves lupidide of aphids aphidicide, aphicide of bedbugs cimicide of bees apicide of fleas pulicide, pulicicide of flies muscacide, muscicide of gnats or mosquitos culicicide, culicide of lice lousicide, pediculicide of mites acaricide, miticide of mosquitos anophelicide, mosquitocide of spiders or scorpions arachnidcide of wasps vespacide Amebae amebacide, amebicide, amoebicide Animal parasites epizocide Anthrax anthracocide Bacilli bacillicide Bacteria bactericide, bacteriacide, bacteriocide Blood corpuscles globulicide Blood flukes schistosomacide, schistosomicide Cancerous cells tumorcide Cells cytocide Diarrhea-causing parasites trichomonacide Fever (reducing fever) febricide Germs germicide Gonorrhea gonococcide, gonoccocide Intestinal worms helminthicide, vermicide Leukocytes leukocide, leucocide Malarial parasites gametocide, plasmodicide, schizonticide Microbes microbicide Nematode worms nematocide, nematicide, nemacide Oxyuris worms oxyuricide Parasites parasiticide Parasitic bacteria treponemicide Protozoans protozoacide Roundworms ascaricide, filaricide, lumbricide Scabies scabicide, scabieticide Sleeping sickness infection trypanocide, trypanosomacide Sperm spermicide, spermatocide, spermatozoicide Spirilla bacteria spirillicide Spirochetes bacteria spirocheticide, spirochaeticide Spores fungicide, sporicide Staph staphylocide, staphylococcide, staphylococcicide Streptococci bacteria streptococcicide Tapeworms taenicide, taeniacide, teniacide, tenicide Toxins toxicide, toxinicide Tuberculosis bacilli tuberculocide Viruses viruscide, virucide flowers floricide of plants herbicide, phytocide of a giant gianticide of a monster monstricide putrid things putricide Destruction of books tomecide Destroying words logocide, verbicide Destruction of a culture ethnocide Destruction of ancient buildings/monuments petracide Destruction of laws legicide Destruction of liberty liberticide Destruction of life biocide Ruining a suitor's chances suitorcide Ruining someone's reputation famicide the mind (brainwashing) menticide a faith fideicide facts (distorting the truth) facticide someone with a motor vehicle autocide Destruction of everything onmicide Destruction of the entire world mundicide Destruction of the natural world ecocide of all people populicide

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago ForgottenWell My Perfect Wife, My Beautiful Baby Daughter Love at first sight is real, I know because it happened to me. I was a freshman in highschool when I saw her, and I knew I’d love her for ever. We dated all through high school and college. When we graduated we got marrıed. We were yøung, but wanted a kid. The pregnancy was easy for her, and somehow even giving bırth went smooth. But the day I got my beautiful daughter my wife changed. I’ve heard of postpartum dépression, but this was extreme. It was instant. Even in the hospıtal she wouldn’t hold our daughter. Days påssed. Weeks. At night when our daughter crièd it was I who consoled her. My wife was always near tears. She refused to acknowledge our daughter even existed. Until one day, I heard our daughter crying. She must have woken up from her nap. I went into the room. My wife was standing over the baby crib with a pi]low, going to suffoc4te her. I ran to my wife and smacked her hands, knocking the pi]low away. It wasn’t lost on me this was the first time I’d ever been phүsical with my wife. Later, I checked on my wife who was sound asleep in our bedroom. Back in the hall, I looked at both doors: my wife’s and daughter’s. decided that one of them would have to go. My perfect wife would never be happy as long as our daughter lived. My beautiful daughter would never have a fulfilling life if her mother wanted her gone. Adoptıon? Divorce? Neither would settle this. Not truly settle it. No, if I wanted a happy life, I needed to end this tonight. I took the pi]low firmly in my hands, silently entered the room, and decided to suffoc4te h . . .

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."

Go to Reddit Answers Expand search Expand user menu Back Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago nichonova When the Guardians Die "You can't do this, Ventus! You know what's going to happen!" I ignored the angel. In a life-or-death situation, the only one who was coming out on top was me. Snarling, my next adversary launched himself on my back, gripping on to my wings with his nails, while a second angel tried to come in from the front. I might have been powerful, but there were far too many Guardians in this particular room to overcome on my own. Frenzied, I looked around for anything, anyone, who would be able to help me. The only thing visible was the faces of hostile angels, all prepared to tear me apart to protect their Assigne- Wait. That's it! I roared, feeling fury surge through my body, as the first signs of demonization began colouring my skin black. Taking a stride forth, I raised a fist, dark energy emanating from every pore, and immediately the angels trying to pin me down froze in horror. "NO!" But it was too late. Breaking the most sacred taboo of the Guardians, I plunged two fingers directly down into the body of one of the sleeping children in the hospital. The weight off my back vanished as my would-be captor disappeared, his purpose as a Guardian lost. "Ventus... what have you done?" The other angels began to back away from me. Some fell to their knees in shock. I didn't care, even as black tendrils snaked around my body. I had protected my Assignee, and I wouldn't be the first to have done so. The nurses call it Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I call it being a good Guardian. I had big plans for my Assignee. He's going to change the world, toothbrush moustache be darned, and no naysaying angel is going to stop us.

r/shortscarystories 10 yr. ago Defcon7331 Origins of Conflict An ambitious man looked upon his impoverished, war-torn nation with the deepest of sorrows. When he joined the army he hoped to help crush those who seeked to destroy his nation's supremacy. Instead he failed to fulfill his purpose and helplessly watched as 2 decades of economic failure and chaos reigned supreme. But that was about to change. For a smartly-dressed man stood before him. Except this man was the Devil himself. The Devil was fully aware of this man's extreme nationalism, and was ready to exploit it. The Devil would engineer the masses to bend to his Dealer's will, and assist in creating and maintaining a superpower for a few years, but after that, the Dealer would be on his own. But the Dealer refused to offer his soul, knowing full well how short life is, and would not be condemned to eternal damnation. The Devil would not take no for an answer. One way or another, he would claim a soul while on Earth. He thought long and hard, and finally produced these words; "Either your 1 guilty soul... or 6 million innocent.."

r/shortscarystories 10 yr. ago tarandfeathers It's a boy! "Oh! I know what's happening! I've just been born again and I have only only a few minutes to see through all my past lives. Shortly, I will have forgotten everything. An invisible hand will erase all my memories and I will become an innocent little child. But now, I can see everything. All my crimes. It all started when I murdered my only brother. Then I killed other six of my siblings. Then I slaughtered seventy of them. Then I offered my virgin daughter to be abused by a mob. And then, I sacrificed my baby-girl to become a king. Finally, I betrayed my Mentor and sent Him to death. There is something evil in all my lives, something I cannot control. Oh, I wish to, I have to remember all these atrocities beyond these two minutes! Last night I felt the remorse for the first time and resolved to kill myself and a few minutes ago I was flopping in my own noose for I had betrayed my Master, I'd sold Him to the Romans for 37 pieces of silver. We took the supper for the last time, like friends, as I was being a traitor all the time. And while we parted, hugging and kissing, I knew He was suspecting my vileness. That was the last straw for my burden. Enough with all the killings and treason! Enough with all the schemes and the massacres! I want to redeem my evils! To lead a clean, virtuous life, to be admired, praised and beloved, to leave behind useful and beautiful things instead of pain and hatred. I will change - starting with this next life I have ahead. I will study, I will create! I will build useful machinery, beautiful works of art! I will write, I will paint! I will help people get further and higher! I will invent, I will write, I will paint! Only if I could remember: a painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! A painter, not a killer! I will repay my treason by evoking the life of the Master and depicting it in images! I will paint our last supper to show all the people how I had betrayed Him, how despicable I had used to be. I want to change, I have to! I want my actions to impact all over the world and my name to be on everyone's lips.." Hanged by his little feet, the newborn received a pat on the back, his lungs started working and he released a long cry. The midwife laid him abreast his mother Klara, and hurried out of the room to bring the news. The father had already heard the baby's cry and was rushing towards the door. "It's a boy!", said the midwife. "You have a boy, Mr. Alois Hitler!"

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 mo. ago CBenson1273 I’m Worried About My Fellow Mom-To-Be I loved John, with all my heart; I’d known the day we met I’d do anything for him. We’d talked about our goals, and he’d confessed how much he’d always wanted to be a father. Despite my worries, I was determined to give that to him. I’ll never forget showing him my positive pregnancy test. The look on his face was the first time I was actually excited to be a mother. But the time leading up to bringing our child into the world was miserable. I hated the extra weight I was carrying, my screwed-up balance, how much my back hurt. I couldn’t get comfortable at night; eventually I moved into the guest room for both our sakes. And I got so moody - sometimes I didn’t even want to be around him. There were good moments too, of course. The best part, aside from knowing how happy I was making John, was the friends I made. I joined an online mommy-to-be chat group and met some amazing people. We’d share stories of our lives, our fears, our excitement for the future. It was like we’d known each other forever. But there was one girl we were a little worried about. Mary was young and had a rough home life - her parents weren’t supportive, her boyfriend had disappeared when she’d gotten pregnant. We all resolved to do everything we could for her. We messaged her every day, reassuring her that she wasn’t alone. Most days we managed to keep her spirits up, but sometimes she was depressed whatever we did. We discussed doing more - throwing her a shxwer, donating baby items she’d need. But since she wouldn’t share her location, our hands were tied. Then one day she reached out to me privately. Her parents had kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go. I immediately sent her the address of my family’s cabin - it wasn’t much, but she could stay there while she figured things out. John was worried about me traveling alone so late in the pregnancy, but when I told him I needed to go help a friend in trouble, he understood. I promised Mary I’d come up as soon as I could. When I got there, she was sitting on the sofa crying; she rushed to hug me in gratitude. I assured her I was happy to help. I poured her some tea and asked about her plans; she said she’d been considering adoption, but because of me she was leaning toward keeping it. Ironic. Later, I reflected on how hard these last months had been: constantly wearing a fake stߋmach, feigning doctor’s appointments, kıllıng Mary’s boyfriend, luring her out here. But as I held my new daughter, freshly cvt from the đeađ bödy that had now served its purpose, I knew it had all been worth it. After all the pretending, John would have a real child and our family would be complete. Maybe we’d even name her Mary.

girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following ~♥~ уσυ нανє тσ тαкє тнє gσσ∂ ωιтн тнє вα∂, ѕмιℓє ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂, ℓσνє ωнαт уσυ gσт αη∂ яємємвєя ωнαт уσυ нα∂. αℓωαуѕ ƒσяgινє вυт ηєνєя ƒσяgєт, ℓєαяη ƒяσм уσυя мιѕтαкєѕ вυт ηєνєя яєgяєт, ρєσρℓє ¢нαηgє, тнιηgѕ gσ ωяσηg, ѕσ נυѕт яємємвєя тнαт ℓιƒє gσєѕ ση...~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαηт тσ вє яємємвєяє∂ αѕ тнє σηє ωнσ αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓєѕ єνєη ωнєη нєя нєαят ιѕ вяσкєη, αη∂ тнє σηє ωнσ ωσυℓ∂ αℓωαуѕ вяιgнтєη υρ уσυя ∂αу, єνєη ωнєη ѕнє ¢συℓ∂η’т вяιgнтєη υρ нєя σωη ~♥~ ~♥~ ωє єηנσу ωαямтн вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ¢σℓ∂. ωє αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιgнт вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ιη ∂αякηєѕѕ. ву тнє ѕαмє тαкєη, ωє ¢αη єχρєяιєη¢є נσу...вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє кησωη ѕα∂ηєѕѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ ∂ση'т єνєя gινє υρ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ тяу, ∂ση'т єνєя ωιρє уσυя тєαяѕ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ ¢яу. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕєттℓє ƒσя αη αηѕωєя ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ кησω. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕαу уσυ ∂ση'т ℓσνє нιм ιƒ уσυ ¢αη'т ℓєт нιм gσ ~♥~ ~♥~ ƒσя єνєяу вєαυту тнєяє ιѕ αη єує ѕσмєωнєяє тσ ѕєє ιт. ƒσя єνєяу тяυтн тнєяє ιѕ αη єαя ѕσмєωнєяє тσ нєαя ιт. ƒσя єνєяу ℓσνє тнєяє ιѕ α нєαят ѕσмєωнєяє тσ яє¢єινє ιт ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ¢яα¢кѕ ιη тнє ¢ση¢яєтє яємιη∂ тнαт ησ мαттєя нσω ѕтяσηg уσυ αяє, уσυ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ƒαℓℓ αραят αт ѕσмє ρσιηт ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ~♥~ ~♥~ ηєνєя ƒяσωη...єνєη ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂ '¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη ѕσмєσηє'ѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ωιтн уσυя ѕмιℓє ~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαℓкє∂ тняσυgн тнє нαℓℓωαу нσℓ∂ιηg му ωяιѕтѕ, нσριηg ησ σηє ωιℓℓ ѕєє мє ℓιкє тнιѕ. нє ℓσσкѕ αт мє, ѕ¢αяє∂ ωнαт нє'ℓℓ ƒιη∂. нє ηєνєя тнσυgнт ι нα∂ тнєѕє тнιηgѕ ιη мιη∂. нє αѕкѕ мє, "...ιѕ тнєяє αηу мσяє؟" ℓσσкιηg αт нιм ωιтн тєαяѕ ιη му єуєѕ ι ωнιѕρєя α ѕιмρℓє яєρℓу,...'єνєя ωση∂єяє∂ ωнαт вяα¢єℓєтѕ ωєяє ƒσя'..؟ ~♥~ ~♥~ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє мυѕт вє нυят ιη σя∂єя тσ gяσω, ƒαℓℓ ιη σя∂єя тσ кησω, ℓσѕє ιη σя∂єя тσ gαιη. αη∂ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє нανє тσ вє вяσкєη ѕσ ωє ¢αη вє ωнσℓє αgαιη ♥~ ~♥~ ησт єνєη мαкє υρ ¢συℓ∂ мαкє нєя вєαυтιƒυℓ...вє¢αυѕє яєαℓ вєαυту ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм ℓσνιηg уσυяѕєℓƒ αη∂ тнαт'ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg ѕнє ¢αη ηєνєя ∂σ ~♥~ ~♥~ яєαℓ тєαяѕ αяє ησт тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє єуєѕ αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ƒα¢є вυт αяє тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє нєαят αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ѕσυℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ℓєαяη тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє тнє яαιηвσω αƒтєя ¢υяѕιηg тнє яαιη. ιт’ѕ נυѕт ℓιкє ℓσνιηg αgαιη αƒтєя єχρєяιєη¢ιηg тнє ραιη ~♥~ ~♥~ уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη уσυ ωιℓℓ ℓσѕє ѕσмєσηє, ѕσ gяαв тнєм αη∂ тєℓℓ тнєм тнαт уσυ ¢αяє ησω вє¢αυѕє ιт мιgнт вє тнє ℓαѕт тιмє уσυ ωιℓℓ єνєя вє αвℓє тσ ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ѕку ιѕη'т αℓωαуѕ вℓυє. тнє ѕυη ∂σєѕη'т αℓωαуѕ ѕнιηє. ѕσ ιт'ѕ σкαу тσ ƒαℓℓ αραят ѕσмєтιмєѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ мσѕт σƒ тнє ιмρσятαηт тнιηgѕ ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ нανє вєєη α¢¢σмρℓιѕнє∂ ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нανє кєρт ση тяуιηg ωнєη тнєяє ѕєємє∂ тσ вє ησ нσρє αт αℓℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє нєαят, тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє ѕσυℓ, тєαяѕ ƒяσм єνєяуωнєяє, тнєу тαкє ¢σηтяσℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg gяєαт, ησ σηє єνєя ѕєємѕ тσ яємємвєя, вυт ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg ωяσηg, ησ σηє ¢αη єνєя ѕєєм тσ ƒσяgєт ~♥~ girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following

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)

Mary Bell, 11-Year-Old Serial Kıller, Scotswood, England, 1968 - M*rdered Martin Brown (age 4) on May 25, 1968 and Brian Howe (age 3) on July 31, 1968. Her best friend Norma Bell, 13, (not related) took part in the 2nd m*rder. Mary attempted many mvrders besides those. Quotes: “I like to hur͘t people.” - “Brian Howe had no mother, so he won’t be missed.” - “Mvrder isn’t that bad, we all dıe sometime anyway...”

🔴 - 🔪 - 🔴 🔪 - 😈 - 🔪 🔴 - 🔪 - 🔴

Raͩnͤsͣoͭmͪ

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

i̸̦͙̯̐ͅt̵̛͍͓̱͔̳̍̓͋̽̓͑̚͝͠'̴̧̧̩̝̓ͅs̸͓̲̜͒̌... m̵̨̨̢̢̡̢̢̡̨̨̡̧̢̧̛̛͔̞̖̝͔͕̮͖̹̩͚͙̰͎̺͔̠͙̬͈̦͍̟̲͍̩͖͈̬͙̱̳̭̘͎̳̜̟̱̱̥̫̙̰̺̹̬̟̝͖̫͉̣̪̘̠̙̫̣͉͈͍̱̙̞͖̗͚͍͍̼͇͍̪̝͚̟̙̞̬͈̱͙̠̣̖̭̰̹̤͈͍̭͈̪̰̥̦̠̑̔̏̑̊͆̑̿̽̔̄̓͒̀̄̄̈́̆͂̍̎̇̑͂̔̑̿͐͌͌̾͋̀͒̒̇̂̊̏̂͒͊̌͛͂̈́̀̆́͆͌̑̿̇̑̆̉͆̑͐̍̌̇͑͐͆͌̂̍́͑̃̈̌̾͆́͑̅͑̐̋̒͗̽̉̂̀͑͑̾̅̔͂́̇̓́͆̈͒̎̊͗̔͌̈́̔̔́̈́͋́͒̍͆̉̀̏͛̏̈́͊́̓̌̉̑̾̒̔́͌̑̎͗͆͛̍̎̒̎́̊̓̽͌́͆͌́͐̏̌̒͑͛͗̀̌̀̇͂̍́̒̽̇̈́̔͂̏̌̎͐̿͐̈́̅̉͋̈̔̓̓̀͑̿̔̋̾́͌͘͘̚̚̚͘͘͘̚̚̕̕͜͜͠͠͠͠͠͝͠͝͝ͅͅë̵̡̨̡̢̧̡̦̫̗̞͕̱͉̪͉̼̫̱̯̳̗̱͎̥͈̪̮̺̺̪̼̗̬̭͙͓̙̮͎̼͇͇̻̼͙͉̲̭̲͓̮́̐͗͆̓͐̽̀̽̒̎̈̎͒͜͝͝͠ͅͅ?̵̧̧̧̢̡̡̧̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͉͎̮̟̞͓̪̜̻͕̳̞̰͚̘͍̠̼̫͈͙͉̙͇̰̠̼̲̼̟̹͎̞̙͔̹̻͙͉̞̩͚̫̮͖̳̳͉̩̳̹̞̝̹̰̩͈̮͙̦̻̩̤͕͚̗̻̩͕̫̣̦̰̬̮̩͈͔̮̜̙̟̺͍̤͈͔̺̬̳̫̟͔̙̣͖͎͍̗͓̜̙̯̹̗͓̗̖̱͉̦͊̉͐̋̑͆̓̉͊̒̃̎̾̈́̎̍̉͛̈́̂̾͋͊̈́́̓̓̐̈́̈́̋̌́̌͒̿̿͒̌̓̽̌̈́͗̉̎̀͐̃̈́̔̈́̐̄̑̅̾̐̉̿͛̆͊̉̈́͂̉̋́̽͂͗̄̄͛͂͆͊̃͑̉̏́̑̅͗̑̋͌̑̉̅͒̋̐̌͐͛̿̐̅͑͑̌̓̃͂̓̂̌́̄̊͌̋̍̀̂̀̿̐̐̿͆́̇̋̈́̎͛̆̈́̓͆́̃͐͐̅͋̾̆̅͆͌͊̄͋͑̿̑̍̓͑̀͒͂̏͑͂̈́̎̀́͊̑͌͋͊̾̔̅̓͂́̃̉̀́̿̍̿͛͒̓̈́̀̇̇̍̈́͊͆̑̽̍́̈̌̉͒̈́̒̀͒̅͗̈́̏͊̾̂͌̎͗̽̒͆́̀͒̀́͋̏͌͒͛͒͛̌͐̀͂̓͊͘̚̕̕̚̕͘͘̚̚͘͘͘͘̚̕̚̚̚̚̚͘̚̕͘͘͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago writingisfunbutusuck Every patient I saw that day told me they’d had a premonition of my imminent death. Well that’s never something you love to hear, I thought to myself as my first patient of the day left my office. With all of the drama going on with my wife, the pending divorce and everything…well, work had been an escape for me recently. I wanted it to stay that way. Normally, therapy is supposed to be more about the patient than the therapist. And, to be fair, that had been the case for most of the appointment with Ana. However, I couldn’t help focus on a part that pertained to me. “I had a dream yesterday that you would die in your sleep tonight,” she had said to me with all the tact of an order placed in a drive-thru. Yes, I’ll have a number one combo. Medium, please. Also, by the way, I had a premonition you’ll die tonight. Oh what the heck, better make it a large, actually. I laughed a little grimly to myself and then opened the notes on my next patient. Twenty minutes later, I looked up from my notepad in surprise. “That’s odd,” I began. “That’s not the first thing I’ve heard like that today.” My next patient laughed a little self-consciously. “I know dreams don’t mean anything, I just felt like I had to tell you. I’m not sure why.” I tried to keep the focus on him, hiding my uneasiness as well as I could. “I wonder if this dream you had about me dying in my sleep speaks to an underlying anxiety you may have? A worry about your health, perhaps?” “I don’t think so,” my patient replied. “It just felt so specific to you.” I opened the door to my office to welcome in my third patient of the day, an elderly woman I’d been seeing for years. I flinched as she moved to the door faster than I ever would’ve thought possible for someone of her age. “Is everything okay, Martha?” I asked her. She put her hands on my forearms as if she wanted to hug me. “Oh, you’re alright!” She said, relief flooding her face. “I had the worst dream about you, and it felt so…..real.” I looked at her, silently pleading with her not to say it. “It’s so morbid but….I saw you die in your sleep.” I arrived home late that night, not looking forward to the usual knock-down-drag-out fight with my wife. She’ll be your EX wife soon enough, I reminded myself. I had nothing to worry about, though. She was in a bizarrely jovial mood. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day,” she said, and she seemingly meant it. It was…bizarre, to say the least. This was the woman who had professed her profound hatred for me everyday for the last six months, after all. “I know what’ll help,” she said. “You go run a hot bath, and I’ll pour you a glass of red wine. “Good enough to Die for..”

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago Jjustingraham It Only Takes a Touch I’ve always been able to tell. It just takes a touch - even the brush of a sleeve against my skin, and I see it. The moment of death. Vivid. Sounds, colours, smells, tastes. The receptionist at work will choke on a cashew. My boss will die in a skiing accident. Mom’s Alzheimer’s will kill her, and dad will commit suicide. My brother will die alone, in an assisted living facility. My best friend will have a stroke while shoveling his driveway. The blessing of my curse was that it taught me not to sweat the small stuff. It’s hard to hold grudges, or get worked up about social media, when you’re constantly flooded with the finality of death; whether it’s peaceful or traumatic, sudden or brutally drawn out. My PhD Supervisor was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to be run over by a bus in front of his kids while on a bike ride. I married Vanessa because the first time we kissed, I saw her laying in bed, old and frail, holding my hand, smiling. I’d never been able to see my own death, so knowing that we had a complete life together...she was, literally, the one. Our life was perfect. I treasured every moment that we had because I knew that we were inexorably marching towards a pre-destined end. I made them count. Until our daughter was born. I almost dropped her when she was handed to me. I saw her - older. Maybe in her twenties. Naked. Hogtied in a cellar. A rag stuffed in her mouth, mascara running down her face. Shrieking. Seeing my face looking down on her, cracked in a demented grin. I almost threw up, and gave her back to my wife, who stared at me in shock and confusion. No, no, no, no - This can’t be right. I loved this baby girl. I had fallen in love with her immediately. Everything about her. The pink of her skin, the way she cried, her tiny fingers, the curly hair that looked exactly like her Grandmother’s. But I was never wrong. Well - the visions weren't ever wrong. I tried holding her with a blanket, but the sensation was overwhelming. It was nauseating. Why would I do that? How could I hurt my perfect girl? I got them home, wrote my note, and drove to the office in the middle of the night. I didn’t want Vanessa to find me. I couldn’t let her see what I had to do. I clutched a photo of my daughter and one of us on our wedding day, and sobbed for hours. Then I put the gun to my head. I wouldn’t let myself hurt my baby girl. The moment I pulled the trigger, I saw my twin brother’s smiling face in the family portrait on my desk.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 11 yr. ago razorback62 You're all wrong. (Suicide Note) They came to me in a dream, demanding blood. No one will believe me when I try telling them. The world already thinks I'm crazy. But I have to do it. To please them, the sacrifices have to be made. Otherwise, there will been an evil unleashed upon the earth like nothing we've ever seen. I was promised to be ruler of whatever humans were left, but they lied. They're driving me insane with nightmares and taunting voices in my head. Whoever is reading this note, know this. My name is Adolph and however history remembers me, you're wrong. You're all wrong.

r/shortscarystories 20 hr. ago ForgottenWell Something happened in the locker room. Milly Swanson begged not to be kicked off the softball team. “Please, Coach, you can’t let them do this to me.” She droned on about how a softball scholarship was the only way her family could afford to send her to college. Yada yada, blah blah blah. I let out a long sigh to show frustration, then opened the incident report to the first page. “What happened?” I asked, even though I already knew. I wanted the incident fresh in Milly’s mind. “Hazel happened; I lost my tèmper.” I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head towards Milly to show skepticism. “So, Hazel instigated the fight?” I asked. Milly paused, thought about it for a second, then said, “Yeah. I was just joking…” “Hazel didn’t think so.” “I only hit her once! To šhut her up!” “And gave her a concussion.” I flipped over the report. Everything's spelled out clearly, including Milly’s punıshment. She was given five days of in-school suspension, had to write an apology to Hazel, and worst of all she was no longer allowed to participate in extracurriculars. That meant, no more softball. Milly begged her parents to transfer her to a new school so she could play on their team, but they refused. I think they wanted her to actually learn her lesson for once. That brought Milly to me. “This is gonna ruin my life, Coach, you gotta let me back on the team!” “I can’t do that,” I said, “but I can tell you what to do next.” Milly groaned, then softly asked, “what?” I open the desk drawer, pulled out a snub nosed revolver, and set it in front of her. “You should k†ll Hazel.” Milly’s eyes went wide with shock. “Whoa, Coach, what are you—” “It’s perfect; don’t you see‽ She rUiNeD your life, and now you’re going to ruin hers..” “I can’t,” Milly hesitated. “Of course you can. If you’re smart, you won’t ever get caught. H*ck it’s my gvn. If anything, they’ll probably think I did it.” Milly stared at the gvn for over a minute. From the look in her eye, I knew she was gonna do it. She grabbed the pistol saying she would “think about it,” and left. I patted myself on the back for a job well done, and then went over to the closet. Inside, Coach Schneider, the real Coach Schneider, was knocked out̸ cøld from my stinger. I dragged him to his desk and heaved him up onto his over-priced chair. He’d wake up in about 30 minutes and be none the wiser. I twisted and pulled my face until it changed completely, resembling one of the janitors I had seen on my way in. I put on a hooded jacket and calmly walked back to my car. “Okay,” I said, pulling out my little notebook and crossing off names, “who's next..”

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 7 yr. ago chenliyong I have just bought a shiny red used car that day I have just bought a shiny red used car that day, when that disaster happened. A drunk driver drove from the opposite lane, suddenly turned his wheel toward me and my car. It caused multiple car crash and a few people died in that tragedy. Luckily, I’m survived. But it didn’t stopped there. After I got the car fixed, I suffered another freak accident when the brake failed. And another one when a bike suddenly went astray and cut my lane. Fed up with these accidents, I decided to sell the car. The problem was nobody had shown any interest at the listing I put. This drove me to contact a psychic, to see if there’s something extraordinary in action. I arrived at the psychic home at night using that car. As I entered the house, the psychic met me, and immediately remarked that she felt death spirits was revolving around me. She predicted that it must be because the car I bought belong to someone who died in the car, and then the car became haunted. This curse was a blood curse, which means the accident won’t stop until the owner is dead. The problem was, this kind of curse cannot be lifted, and can only be transferred when the ownership changes. After hearing my full story, she actually surprised that I was still alive after all those accidents. She asked whether I have some kind of charm I kept with me. I didn’t think I have any, except if this simple stone necklace I got from my grandma counts. She asked to see the necklace. As I undid the necklace from my neck and handed it to her, she was quite surprised by it. She remarked that this was actually a quite powerful charm that can protect its wearer from any fatal accident, and concluded that my grandmother probably a psychic too. She said that I probably had cheated death all this time. That’s why I was still alive after all that accidents. But she also said that this curse want to claim the live of its owner. Otherwise, many people around me will die. So if I want to have a shot at selling the car, I need to have this necklace destroyed. I still felt fabberglasted with all the information, but thought that I didn’t feel that the protection from the necklace is actually real. So I gave her permission to destroy the necklace. As she got her hammer and destroy the necklace stone into pieces, I felt something strange happened in my body. Little by little, my body turned to decay, started from my fingers and feet. I looked at the psychic with horror, and she gave me the same horror expression too. And then she quickly explained that this meant that I have actually died a long time ago, and there was nothing she could do to. Last words I heard from her lips before everything went black was that she was sorry.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 mo. ago CBenson1273 I Invited The Kids Who Were Bullying My Son To A Party I was sitting watching television when Joey came home. I greeted him like I always did. “Hello, Angel! How was your day?” But instead of his usual “Fine, Mom,” he ran past me and up to his room. I climbed the stairs to say hello. He sat on his bed, crying. I ran over to him. “What happened?” “Nothing,” he said, sniffling. “Come on, baby. Don’t you know you can tell me anything? Whatever it is, I’m on your side.” “It’s just… the kids at school. They’ve been picking on me, and today they pushed me down and called me a runt.” Joey had always been somewhat small for his age - it was a sore spot for him, especially without a father around. I’d hoped that in fifth grade things might be better. “What have I told you? You’re amazing, and if those kids can’t see it, they’re half-wits.” “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, but I could tell they really got to him. “Don’t worry, Angel. Mommy will take care of everything.” I met with the principal, but he said it was just boys being boys. The other mothers refused to believe me, hinting that Joey was making it up. I saw red. I wanted to make them pay. But helping Joey meant putting my selfishness aside and extending an olive branch. I called each of the mothers back, apologized for any misunderstanding, and invited the boys to a party to make amends. Eventually they agreed - I haven’t met the mother who’d turn down free babysitting. I bought cake and pizza and got the house ready. When the kids arrived, it was obvious they didn’t really want to be there, but the free food and games got their attention. I watched how they treated Joey - not a single person greeted him. I stopped the party and called for attention. “Excuse me, everyone. It’s come to my attention that many of you have been picking on my son in school. I know how kids can be, so what’s say we apologize and start fresh?” The kids looked at one another, then one by one began laughing. All the while, Joey sat there looking broken, and my heart broke for him. Then his sadness turned to anger. His eyes began to glow. The air darkened. Max, the ringleader, made a choking sound and reached for his throat. Then, out of nowhere, a plant stalk emerged from his mouth. It kept growing, bursting from his body at both ends until it lifted him into the air. The others began screaming and sprouting plants until the room was a macabre garden of children suspended in the air from stalks erupting from their bodies. Then everything stopped and Joey fell over, exhausted. I raced over and held him, feeling small bumps protruding from his back. “What… what happened?” he asked uncertainly. “Nothing, sweetheart. Everything is fine. I guess it’s time I tell you the truth about your father. His name was Oberon…”

2009-10-23 22:47:37 On 13 February 1746, a Frenchman, Jean Dubarry, was executed for killing his father. Exactly 100 years later, on February 13, the French as well, also named Jean Dubarry, was executed - also for the murder of his father.

r/shortscarystories 1 day ago therealdocturner The Day The Music Died “Why don’t you just let me in?” “No.” The world finally got mad enough to blow itself up and everybody’s gone. Everybody but me and Jesse. Two months come and gone, we been together. I found this house after wanderin’ through what was left. No front door and a nice porch sittin’ on a scorched plain. When I found it, I had a little food left, but it’s long gone now. Jesse showed up the night after. Lookin’ through the open doorway with those red eyes at the only person he’d seen in a couple of years. He kept lickin’ his long teeth. We didn’t talk much at first. I guess in the end, we were just too tired to try anything. Two men wastin’ away from starvation and terrible loneliness. The last of our kind. He moved in under the porch and never left. Conversation was next to nothin’ that first night. He was outside the doorway, and I sat inside in one of the rockin’ chairs I found. I’d rock and he’d pace. It started by singin’ songs out of boredom. Soon enough we got to talkin’. After the sixth night, I put the other rockin’ chair out on the porch for him just outside the door. We talk and sing till the sun comes up. We look forward to the nights. I met the best friend I ever had at the end of time. Tonight’s our last night. Only one more sunrise for me. “You look like you could make it through another day.” He’s eyeballin’ the gun in my lap. He knows I’ve only got one bullet left. “I can’t talk you outta this?” “My belly button’s rubbin’ against my backbone. I’m tired Jesse. You better get under the porch here soon. You can have what’s left tomorrow night.” “Aw. Let me come inside.” “No. I don’t want to go out that way. You need to go. I don’t want you to watch.” He turns and I try to raise the gun. The sun is almost up and I want to be ready. My hand starts shakin’ and I drop the damn thing. It bounces out the doorway. Jesse turns back around and picks it up. “Gimme the gun, Jesse.” “Come get it.” “You know I’m too weak to get outta this chair.” “Then let me come inside.” “I don’t wanna go that way, Jesse!” “Just invite me in, will ya?!” I finally break and give him what he wants. He walks in and I wait to feel his teeth in my neck, but he pulls me and my chair onto the porch. He gives me the gun. “Got no interest in goin’ on without ya. This is the last mornin’ for both of us.” He sits down next to me and we rock as the sun comes up. He starts singing Don McLean’s American Pie and I join in. One last joyful noise unto the world never to be heard again.

r/HorrorJunkie123 Go to HorrorJunkie123 r/HorrorJunkie123 2 mo. ago HorrorJunkie123 I'm going to die soon (Short scary story) I was nineteen when I was diagnosed. Stage four pancreatic cancer. The doctors said that I only had two months to live. I was absolutely devastated when I received the news. I was supposed to be starting my sophomore year of college in a matter of days. Just the thought of that still brings me to tears. There was so much that I wouldn’t get to experience. I’d never have a date. I’d never get my college degree. I’d never even have the chance to share a glass of drink with Mom at dinner. The weight of that realization sent me spiraling into a deep depression. I had decided to move back home with Mom for the last couple of months I had left. She was just as distraught as I was if not more, and I wanted to be there for her while I still could. She had always been my biggest supporter, constantly encouraging me to go out and try new things, even more so in recent weeks. I know that she was just trying to get me to live out my remaining days to the fullest, but it only made things worse. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. The constant sadness. The pitying glances from anyone who knew. It was all too much. I wasn’t afraid of death. I’d made peace with the thought of dying relatively quickly. I just couldn’t bring myself to keep going when the entire world felt gray. So, I made the difficult decision to end it. I wrote a letter to Mom explaining why I was doing it, reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault, and apologizing for not being a better son. I placed it on my pillow, then downed an entire bottle of pills from the medicine cabinet. All I had to do was wait. Around fifteen minutes later, I saw a black mass materialize in the hallway outside of my room. I wasn’t scared. Death had come to end my suffering. I lumbered over to the hooded figure, each step heavy and awkward. “I’m ready. You can take me now.” The figure glanced up, and when it did, a cold dread blanketed me, causing my whole body to tremble. No description can do it justice. The entity appeared to be in constant agony. Black tears streamed down its ashen skin. Its eyes were hollow and lifeless, the torment of thousands of lost souls hidden just beneath its pupils. Souls just like me. That was all it took. I didn’t want to die anymore. Not if that’s what the afterlife had in store for me. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this. Please, I want to live!” I shouted, dropping to my knees, begging it not to take me. The figure turned away, then it spoke, its voice tired and weighed down. “You will, for now. I’m not here for you.”

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 days ago ForgottenWell If I'm not back by sunset When the last sliver of sunlight vanished over the horizon, I walked down into the basement and flipped the switch. Instantly, “The Machine” turned on and began 3D printing a perfect replica of my husband, Hugh. After a minute, New Hugh took his first, gasping breath. “Didn’t make it back in time?” Hugh asked, slicking back his jet-black hair. “Ffraid not, Hugh,” I smiled, taking in the view before tossing him a pair of shorts. “Do we have any whiskey left?” “Plenty.” Hugh wandered upstairs to rinse off, and I went to the kitchen to prepare some rations and pour us both a double shot of whiskey. “Do anything fun today?” Hugh asked, downing his drink in one gulp. “Cleaning mostly,” I said, following his lead. “Got any fun plans for tonight?” “I can think of a few.” I poured us another drink and Hugh put on some music, Frank Sinatra’s Greatest Hits. I’m not the biggest fan, but it really gets Hugh in the mood. After a couple songs, Hugh pulled me in close and kissed me like it was our first time (for him it was). We danced, drank, and laughed so loud we couldn’t hear the shrieks of the corpses outside our compound. I woke up hungover, but Hugh was already in the gym working up a sweat. I made rations for breakfast, and we tended to the garden, but noon was quickly approaching. Hugh gathered his equipment and prepared to leave. He had to go into the city to look for essential supplies to add to our stores. I walked him down to the gate, and he turned around and kissed me on my forehead. “Remember,” he said, “if I’m not back by sunset?” “Flip the switch.” He walked through the gate, I locked it behind him, and he ventured into the undead city. I spent most of the afternoon cleaning up our mess from the night before, but as it got closer to sunset, I went up to our deck to watch the front gate. It wasn’t long before I heard screaming. “Open the gate!” Hugh was yelling for me, but I just leaned on the railing and watched. Hugh was running towards the gate as fast as he could, and he was being followed by a horde of zombies. Every corpse was a previous copy of Hugh. “I don’t wanna die!” Hugh cried. He slammed into the gate, shaking the bars, and I laughed as the horde ripped him to shreds. I love my husband, but every time he goes out for supplies he comes back a little more broken. Eventually, he cracks and starts taking it out on me. I got tired of watching him fall apart over and over again. I decided I much prefer him when he’s fresh. After the horde wandered away, and the sun vanished over the horizon, I walked down to the basement and flipped the switch. “Didn’t make it back in time?” “Ffraid not, Hugh,” I smiled.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 6 mo. ago Accomplished_Low7889 I knew my husband was having an affair, but it was much worse than I could have imagined When I saw my husband with that woman, holding hands at the park, looking like teenagers, I felt my bľood boil. The affair was now out in the open for everyone to see. I had suspected for years that he met someone at hotels, on "business trips", but I never imagined he would dare display his adultery so brazenly. With cautious steps, I followed them, dreading what I would see. They stopped at a café, the same café we used to go to every Saturday evening. To discuss work and politics while sharing a few laughs. It felt like his visit to the café was a dagger shaгper than their entwined hands. I watched the two lovebirds settle the bill and head towards home. Our home. Moments later, I saw them unlock the door and proceed to turn my house into their personal lơve nest. They headed to the kitchen together, where he grabbed a kn*fe, lime and tequila, presumably to make a margarita. "That was my wife's favorite đrınk," he said to her, meticulously slicing the lime as he used to do for me. I saw his gaze darken, and for a moment, his eyes flicked to our framed photo still hangin’ on the wall. "Wherever she is, I'm sure she's proud of you," the woman said, touching his hand. "Proud" isn't the right word to describe what I was feeling. I've been đeađ for three months, and his mistress is already making herself at home in my kitchen. He set aside the đrınk for a moment to indulge in another round of kisses. That was it, I couldn’t just watch it anymore. I had to try the “thing”. My ghastly, non-corporeal form drifted close to her. The other spirits had told me about possession—how unstable and fleeting it could be. It rarely works. But perhaps, if I followed all the right steps... As they kissed, I slipped into her body. Face to face, torso to torso, leg to leg. In a spiritual frenzy, my eyes closed, then opened. I immediately felt his beard against my face. The warmness of his body, something I haven’t felt in a long time. That’s when I remembered how much I actually missed him, despite all this. I had succeeded—I was inside her bödy, though I had no idea how long it would last. He leaned back for a moment, readying himself to speak. "At least now we can finally be together," he said with a smile. "No more sneaking around because of my wife." I snapped completely. Without thinking, I took the kn*fe he was using for the margaritas and slashed his thr*at.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 15 hr. ago sortakindaspiralling He hurt me, I sob He hurt̸ me, I tell them sobbing. He sliced me here. I gesture to my bleeding thigh, hands shaking uncontrollably. And then! My voice shrills, I can’t breαthe. He murdered my daughter! My baby girl! I collapse onto the floor, legs unable to support weıght any longer. I curl into a ball, as tiny as possible. A shaking mess of grief and horror. He k-lled her! “But Mam,” The polıce frowned. “Your little boy is only 3.”

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago Feeling_Sky_7775 Today the popular girl befriended the weirdo Layla was the most popular girl at school. The girls idolized her, and the boys lusted after her. She sat with Arnold in algebra, but she strongly preferred not to. Arnold was “weird.” He was socially inept, smelled a bit funny, and would always read manga comics during study. Layla would occasionally strike conversation with him, but would soon regret when met with uncomfortable silence and awkward tension. Behind his back, Layla would mock him around her friends. She wasn’t sure why, probably because it made her feel superior. In turn, her friends would taunt him to his face. They’d do anything to impress her. She felt bad for enabling their behavior, but she got a thrill knowing they would follow her every move. It’ll toughen him up, she would tell herself. But, Layla decided today was different. Today, she wanted to be nice to Arnold. “Hi Arnold, how are you today?” “Hey Layla, I am okay.” A prolonged silence ensued. “Whatcha got there?” “Oh, it’s uh, nothing, it’s just uh some dumb comic book.” “I don’t think it’s dumb, let me see!” She feigned interest as she flipped through the pages. “This is cool! You should show me more after school sometime.” He shuffled around, turning red, visibly uncomfortable. “Um, yeah that would be cool.” She blinked flirtatiously. “Well maybe we could go on a date sometime, and you could show me then.” He let out a nervous laugh and nodded. Turning back to his desk, Layla could see him hiding his goofy smile. Today, Layla wanted to be nice to Arnold. Today, she wanted Arnold to like her. She hoped that Arnold would want to see her again. Because in class today, Layla caught a glimpse of the gun hiding in Arnold’s bag. Upvote 3.1K Downvote

Go to Reddit Answers Expand search Expand user menu Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago therealkurumi2 Book Club Rod offered to take the wooden chair at the end of the coffee table, but Victoria grinned and patted the couch cushion beside her. "I saved you a seat. I don't bite, I promise." Rod returned the smile and sat down. Next to Victoria felt like the best seat and the worst seat in the room. Every Thursday, he met with three of his wife's friends (now his friends too) for a small book club. They'd been reading Love Out of Reach, which introduced the term Limerence. Much more than a fancy word for "crush", limerence could consume you, and stick around for years. Victoria had a beauty (inner and outer) that had ambushed him, and he feared this limerence was just getting started. Never mind all four of them were in happy marriages. He had to remind himself not to gaze at the way her eyes lit up when you understood her point; or those few gray strands in her river of dark brown hair; or the way she made whoever she was talking to feel like the most important person in the world. The smart thing might have been to politely bow out of Book Club. But he loved to read, and he got along so well with the group; who would believe any excuse he might conjure up? The truth was, he looked forward to Victoria time each week. Being in the same room with her was a natural high. He hoped that would remain enough. Anything more was out of the question. Love Out of Reach, indeed. His therapist recommended a woman not in his network, by the name of Delapan. A psychic, he said, but don't be put off; she might have a talisman that can help you. Mrs. Delapan gave him a single sheet of tan parchment: magic paper. Write a story on it ("keep it short", she'd said; "under 500 words"), read it aloud to another, and it will come true. "Do be mindful of recursion," she'd said. Stuff that happens over and over again? He was familiar with that. Rod agonized for days over what he genuinely wanted to come true; then spent several more days furtively working on drafts before he was ready to commit ink to paper. But now he was ready. He'd told the group he was working on a short story of his own, and would love to get their feedback. Tonight was the night. He saw the surprise in their eyes as he fished the single sheet of parchment out of a folder. His written words seemed different to him somehow, even though he'd rehearsed his read-through several times. No time to worry about that. "This story is called 'Book Club'." He cleared his throat and started to read. "Rod offered to take the wooden chair at the end of the coffee table, but Victoria grinned and patted the couch cushion beside her. 'I saved you a seat. I don't bite, I promise..."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 10 yr. ago krshann I saw it coming Someone had been trying to get in my house. Or at least, that’s what I thought. Let me explain. I wouldn’t say that I’m psychic, but I’ve had these dreams that have (sort of) come true. When I was 5, I dreamed that my sister and I would wake up and find a puppy under the Christmas tree. It didn’t turn out exactly like I thought…it was a stuffed puppy. Oh well, still a puppy under the tree. When I was 17, I dreamed my parents died in a car crash. I was so worried about them that I encouraged them to walk whenever they could. The store was only half a mile away- couldn’t they just walk? They were hit by a car on the way back. Driver said he never even saw them. So when I dreamed an intruder was in my bedroom and then… I heard a shõt. The polıce pronouncing someone đeađ. I became hypervigilant. Was this a sign of my deäth? Days blurred by, I probably wasn’t even aware of the date to be honest. Every day was focused on staying safe. I started carryin’ my gun on me when I left the house. I didn’t feel secure at home until I had checked every room. I even started doing this crazy thing where I left a paperclip in between the door and the wall so if it opened it would drop to the floor and I would know that someone had entered my apartment while I was gone. When I came back and saw the paperclip on the ground, I drew my gun. I quietly jiggled the doorknob, and found it unlocked. Silently, I swung open the door. It was dark in my apartment, and I moved slowly as I tried to adjust to the darkness. A fâint light from my bedroom led me down the hall. I could hear rustling from my room. I slammed open the door and fired. I had gotten lucky, and the intruder dropped to the floor, a spray of bľood decorated the wall behind. I paused a minute, then moved into the room, still holding my gun nervously. The body of my sister lay on the floor, a small package in her hand, tied with a yellow, bľood stained ribbon. Behind her, covered in bľood, was a sign that read “Surprise!” Like I said, I’m not psychic. But one way or another, my dreams seem to come true.

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago punkandprose Join You Should be Careful Today "You should be careful today." My girlfriend across the table looked at me with serious pleading in her expression. “I have a bad feeling.” I rolled my eyès. "What, like a 'psychic feeling'?" I put my fork down so I could make proper air quotes. She sighed and cast her fac͘e down. I was glad she felt dumb. She was one of those 'astrology girlies' who believed those TikToks about manifesting, who bought crystals, who texted emoji spells to her friends to wish them good luck. But usually she knew not to pull that around me. "We've talked about this," I said. "The universe is run on logic and reason. Any seemingly super natural explanation for things has a reasonable scientific one. And psychics are frauds." "I'm not saying I'm a psychic," she said. "I just have a horrible feeling͞ that I can't shake." “And why does that feeling have to have anything to do with me?” She straightened her shoulders. “Because my horoscopes specifically say my life will improve today. I don’t want to find money or something, but meanwhile you break your leg or whatever.” "Well I’m not going to walk around scared because you don’t understand your own subconscious mentαl suggestibility." "Okay, Julian. Fine." "What, now you're màd?" "No, it's just, you don't want to listen to me, so fine. Don't be careful then." "I’m sick͞ of this puerilism, Bretta. I've been trying to help you get more enlightened for years—I've recommended Carl Sagan to you, I've tagged you on the good Rëddit threads, but you're just... always going to be like this. I'm going to get some work done at the library. When I get home we need to ta1k." In my rush to escape this ridiculøus woman, I stuffed the rest of my salad into my møuth. I stood and bumped into the table, inhaling in surprise. A piece of food lodged in my throät, and after attempting to cough, I realized I was choking. Bretta rushed to my side, reaching out to help me, to stabilize me. She put her hand against my back and I waited for her to hït it, or posıtıoned herself to give me the Heimlich. She slowly backed away. I became more dazed and scared as I lost air. I fell to the floor in fear and panic while Bretta stared with huge eyes. “Hxlp me,” I mouthed silently. She shook her head. “This is happening just like I was scared it would. If I help you, I’d be provoking the universe as bad as you have.” Something about her ıdıot logic fueled me with a surge of energy. I grabbed onto the table to pull myself up so I could lunge at her. All it did was knock over the serving bowl, which fell to the floor, shattering around me. I collapsed, fading, st*bbed in the places I’d fallen on the glass, covered in increasingly bloodƴ piĕces of salad as my cønsciøusness ended for ever.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago MichaelDj54 "Don't come to school tomorrow." That was the last text my friend sent the night before the shooting. It wasn’t all that surprising, to be totally honest. David, my friend, had a real rough time the past year and a half. Everything just sort of…fell apart around him. His sister ran away from home and wound up murdered about a month later, chopped to pieces in the woods. Pretty soon after that, his mom committed suicide out of grief. Found her hanging in the bedroom, her face swollen and purple from the rope wrapping around her neck. Dad went down a dark path himself. Drugs, but the same effect all the same. What once was a hard working man was a shell of his former self. He never left their home, and became violent and unstable in the past six months following up on this. Poor David didn’t know how to cope, combined with the fact that he was bullied at school, all the way back in the third grade. It was unending torment, and it seemed life went out of his way to get worse. I tried to be a friend to him. I tried to be his shoulder to cry on, to be the person he could talk to, come out to. But I guess in the end, it didn’t matter. Every attempt I made, no matter how pleading it was and desperate, how much I wanted to help him. I suppose, in the long run, there were things I could have done. I could have told someone about the text, but I didn’t. I could have told someone about the gun I found in his drawer, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to grab his sister while she was walking home, knocked her out and took my sweet time killing her, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to break into their house and strangle his mother, but I didn’t. I could have resisted the urge to offer his dad drugs to cope with the pain, but I didn’t. I could have stood up for him all the times he’d been punched, kicked, stuffed into lockers and threatened for far worse, but I didn’t. Or rather, I didn’t want to. There’s a reason for all of this, I assure you. A look into human psyche, a chance to see how the brain ticks. Just a little question…how much grief must a man suffer before he breaks? As I watched the news reports the next morning, of my friends shooting and inevitable suicide, I began to wonder… It takes a bit to break a person… But how MUCH can they break? I look at my phone and pull up my next best friend, Alex. New baby brother, and his dog was getting on in years. Could be any day now. Let’s just find out.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago ChessMango_v1 As he walked into the strange house, he thought the three statues looked a bit TOO realistic. So did the next person who saw the four statues.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Hugh_Jidiot The Sculptor “Thank you so much for this opportunity, Ms,” Shelley said. “Don’t mention it, dear,” the older woman replied, smiling. “And please, call me Mei!” The two walked through the halls of Mei’s countryside estate. The walls were lined with beautiful landscape paintings and shelves that held priceless antique vases; a fitting decor for a world-renowned sculptor. Mei herself was a tall and pale-skinned woman who carried herself with an air of grace and dignity. Shelley wasn’t sure why Mei needed to wear a long coat, headscarf and sunglasses in the privacy of her own home, but didn’t question it. All artists had their quirks, after all. “The moment I saw your portfolio, I knew you’d be the perfect subject for my next work.” Mei looked Shelley up and down. “And now that I see you in person, I’m more sure than ever. Yes, you will be my finest creation yet.” Shelley beamed with pride. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out!” “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” The two came to a stop in front of a large oak door. “Well, here’s where the magic happens. Shall we?” Mei’s studio was much like others Shelley had seen: a spacious room with high-powered lights set up to face a pure white backdrop. Shelley assumed Mei would be taking dozens of photos to use as a reference for her sculpture. “You’ll find your outfit behind that screen over there,” Mei said, motioning towards an opaque folding screen set up in the far corner of the room. “Go get changed while I get the lights set up.” A few minutes later Shelley stepped out from behind the screen, clad in a beautiful silk gown that hugged her body. Mei, who had been positioning the lights, turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. “You look stunning, my dear!” Mei said with a wide grin, clasping her hands. “We’re ready to begin.” Shelley took her place in front of the backdrop, the lights fixing her with their illuminating gaze. The next several minutes were spent getting Shelley into position. She followed Mei’s precise instructions, allowing the artist to guide her poses as needed. Mei worked diligently; the hair had to be just right, the arms had to be bent at the perfect angle, every fold and crevice in the dress had to be to her exact specifications. Finally Mei stepped back. “Yes… yes, it’s finally perfect,” Mei said. Her grin was almost manic as she looked down at Shelley. “Are you ready, my dear?” “I am,” Shelley replied, taking care not to move her head a single millimeter. “So, where’s your camera anyways?” Mei reached up, tearing off her headscarf and sunglasses. The last thing Shelley saw was Mei’s hair coils writhing and twisting, and a pair of yellow reptilian eyes staring into hers.

r/shortscarystories 12 yr. ago [deleted] A Lesser Evil She was a slender woman, a frail looking thing really. Her mahogany eyes lacked the brightness that a woman of her age should exude, instead they echoed the cruelty of the deeds she had put to the back of her mind, the forbidden knowledge which she could not steel herself from. She was considerably attractive, she could have had any number of suitors at her beckon, any number of lovers to dismiss from her bed, but she had him, and he made her feel like a queen. She beamed across the small office space to her newly wed husband, times were tough, and he had it tough most of all why make things any more grim? "Can we be sure?" she inquired, a flicker of hope living on the edge of her voice. He stroked his thick mustache and turned his heavy head "At the lengths I've gone to, how can I be anything but?" His words held the same weight as his heavy heart "Even now I doubt myself though, even if it is a small doubt." Why had the angel been so unclear? Why had it given such vague clues when the world teetered on a razor's edge? His mind took him back to that haunting night when the uncertainties of good and evil became blurred and ruined and his soul would come to tear at itself. "The beast will be born to the tribe of the lord, his veins will flow with the blood of king David and his living breath shall mock the lamb." he parroted the angel's foreboding words without error as they had been thrust onto him all those years ago. "What else could I do?" the question was aimed at his wife but peeled like a bell in his own mind as he himself reflected his words. "The world might never know what you spared it from, but in my heart you will always be a good man." They shared tears, she moved swiftly to the space beside him on the sofa to embrace him. slowly her lips moved to caress his wrinkled forehead in one final parting kiss. her hand drifted from her pocket to her mouth, fear rose inside her as she summoned the courage to bite down on the capsule Her beloved felt the same fear as he lifted the gun to his temple. Its was heavy, but it could not match the weight of his heart. he wanted to end it before he could see his lover wither away. Twitching and dying from the cyanide she summoned the strength to speak her final words before the hammer came down on that bullet "I Love you Adolf."

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago Original-Loquat3788 Stone ‘Thankyou for meeting today, gentlemen.’ The Chief Neurologist said. The Director of the London Underground sighed, tipping a fifth sugar into his hospital canteen coffee. The Scotland Yard Detective could not help thinking he looked like the Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine. ‘Six men have recently taken ill on various London Underground lines. All have presented with Locked-In Syndrome.’ ‘I know what you’re suggesting,’ The Controller replied. ‘There is some sort of infectious or chemical agent present in our carriages.’ ‘It can’t be ruled out.’ ‘Do you know what would happen if the public got wind of this. The Tokyo subway system barely recovered from the sarin attack in 1995.’ ‘We shouldn’t mention terror,’ the Detective agreed. He also recalled with fear the 7/7 bombings that plunged the city into chaos. The Neurologist bit his tongue. They both apparently had short memories. He still had patients with Long Covid. ‘Anyway, I have consulted another doctor, and he informs me the most likely cause of Locked-In Syndrome is a stroke in the Ventral Pons.’ ‘True. But six people in one month, all on the Tube. A pattern.’ The Controller took out a coin. ‘I bet it is not long until I can flip heads six times. It is just random chance.’ ‘I see we are not getting anywhere.’ ‘And I have places to be,’ the Controller said, shaking hands. ‘Do you mind if I take a look at the patients?’ The Detective continued. The Neurologist led him to Intensive Care. ‘God,’ the Detective said, ‘he looks like he’s made of stone.’ ‘Not entirely. We suspect he still retains some degree of cognition.’ ‘The prognosis?’ The Neurologist shook his head, leaving the Detective to study the man. He was young, seemingly healthy, although not of English descent. That word stuck in his head: terror. The man’s phone was on the nightstand. The Detective glanced over his shoulder, picked it up, and brought it to the patient’s immobile face. The screen unlocked, opening on the last image. And the Detective became the seventh victim. … On the packed 17.23 Underground service on the Elizabeth Line, commuters cram the tube car. The Businessman glances at her. She’s young, his daughter’s age, but he still has it, doesn’t he? No. He threads his way through the crowd until he is standing beside her. The girl has dyed blue hair, nose piercings and sleeve tattoos. A bit classless, he thinks, even if they do depict Greek Goddesses. She is wearing a skirt to her knees, and he bends down as if to tie the laces of his brown Brooks’ Brothers brogues. Discretely, he snaps an upskirt. He disappears back into the crowd and looks at his photo . Instantly, he shuts down. Freezes. Collapses. Victim number eight. The girl with the blue hair departs the train as screams go up. She readjusts her skirt. She would not like an innocent person to accidentally see the tattoo of Medusa on her inner thigh.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago PatrickRsGhost People always made fun of my obsession with collecting statues. Until, that is, they recognized their long-lost friends or relations among my collection.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Jgrupe Death by Deja Vu Have you ever remembered a dream hours after waking up? Something triggers a memory of it and you struggle to recall the details which are hazy. With an effort you can piece together bits of it, but never the whole thing. This happens to me from time to time. I’ll have a dream and then instantly forget it upon waking. But then sometime during the day, it comes back to me. That happened to me today. Just now, in fact. The same as in my dream, I see a figure approaching in the darkness. I’m standing in this alley waiting for a friend and feeling alone and way too vulnerable here by myself. I wonder if it’s him coming towards me, and I get déjà vu. His gait is different, it doesn’t look like Sam. But in the darkness I can’t tell. Who else would be out at this hour in the rain? In the middle of the night. The city so full of people seeming empty and desolate. I see something glint and shimmer in his hand and can make out the silhouette of the knife he is holding. The switchblade he always carries with him. Why would Sam be carrying it in his hand like that? I can’t help wonder to myself. “Sam?” His voice calls back, raspy and hurt-sounding, but it’s his. I can tell that it is him, and that fills me with a wave of relief. “Help…” Stumbling towards me, I see something else behind him. The creature looks like nothing I have ever seen before, except that now that I think of it I did see it before, in my dream the night prior. If I had to compare it to anything it would be an octopus, except that it walks upright like a person. It has dozens of tentacles, long and thin, and uses some of them to ambulate, others flailing around and sensing the nearby environment. Its eyes are red and glow in the darkness. I see as it gets closer that its skin is blue and alien. More of the tentacles are wrapped around my friend, poking into the skin of Sam’s head, and now I realize why his movements appear so jerky and puppet-like. He is being controlled by the creature. Thunder crashes in the sky and for a horrible moment it illuminates more of its terrifying face. Its beak with sharp, tiny teeth stretched up at the corners in a smile. “Warn them!” Sam yells at me as he plunges the knife into my heart. I wake up in bed. It had seemed so real, but suddenly the memory of it is fading again. Even though it’s late I’ll see if Sam is up. There’s no way I can get back to sleep after that nightmare. What do you know, he’s awake, and said to meet him in the alley behind his building. Standing in the darkness, in the rain, I see a figure approaching. Déjà vu. Jgrupe OP •4y ago To welcome our new psychic octopus overlords, visit r/JGcreepypastas or to join the resistance check out r/thecrypticcompendium

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 5 mo. ago CBenson1273 My Customer Kept Telling Me His Angel Number When I was in college, I worked part time at the local coffee shop. It wasn’t my dream job, but the pay was good so I couldn’t complain. There was one regular who always visited during my shift. He always came in at 1:15pm, sat at the same table, ordered the same meal, and ate quietly while drawing in his notebook. He was always polite and tipped well, so I didn’t mind. One day I asked another server about him. “Oh, that’s Danny! I think he’s a little slow. He never talks - he only ever communicates in pictures. But he’s a real sweetheart.” He was a sweetheart, just shy. I brought his food every day and smiled at him. One day he drew a picture on the bottom of his receipt - a small bird. I liked it and told him so. From then on, every day he’d draw me a picture in his sketchbook. Birds, cats, flowers. They always made me smile. One day he drew a picture of bird wings with the number 119 written beneath them. I asked what it meant, but he just pointed at the wings and the number. So I did some research. Apparently 119 is an “angel number” - it represents new beginnings, positive energy, and prosperity. I thought it was sweet that he’d draw that for me, so I hung it up behind the counter. I guess he liked that, because afterward all his pictures were the same as that one. One day a young man entered the shop. As I walked toward him to ask what he wanted, I saw an expression on Danny’s face I’d never seen before - complete, utter terror. As I passed by Danny, the new customer pulled a gun from his jacket and aimed it at me. Everything next happened in slow motion. He pulled the trigger. Danny jumped from his seat and dove in front of me. There was a loud bang. Danny fell to the floor. I screamed. The shooter raised the gun to his own head and fired. The police eventually came, but too late. Danny died holding my hand and smiling at me. Weeks later, his mother visited me at the shop. “I just wanted to thank you. Danny didn’t have many friends, but he really liked you. Thanks for being kind to him.” “It was my pleasure,” I replied. “He was a really sweet person. And a good artist - his pictures always brightened my day.” “Really?” she replied. “Can I see one?” I showed her the ones behind the counter. “Apparently he was very big on his angel number - he drew it for me all the time.” At that moment, I realized that the wings in the picture looked just like those on the jacket of the man who’d shot Danny. Then I looked over - his mother was gaping at the picture in shock. “What?” I asked, concerned. She turned and looked at me. “Danny was dyslexic.”

Go to DarkTales r/DarkTales 11 yr. ago Sebastian_Wolf Go Back To Bed Short Fiction Mary awakes to the sound of dripping water. She doesn’t bother her mind with the question of where it is coming from, all she can think of are her newly installed hardwood floors. “Mommy, I’m cold.” The little girl cries, standing at the foot of Mary’s bed. The dripping was still there, driving her crazy. “Grab an extra blanket from the closet and go back to bed sweetie.” Mary says to her daughter. She doesn’t even try to hide the annoyance from her voice. Of course, the girl doesn’t listen to her and makes her way around the bed. As her little feet pitter patter across the floor, Mary can only hear the sound of the water dripping onto her floor, ruining them! The little girl crawls into the bed and snuggles up next to her mother. Mary doesn’t open her eyes, but she does put her arm around her daughter, reluctantly. She really is cold Mary thinks to herself. Not for the first time since the birth of her child, she is filled with an overwhelming dread and anger. The doctors told her that the postpartum depression was normal, that it would go away after a little while. Maybe that would be true if her husband hadn’t abandoned her. Now, here she was, four years later and she still couldn’t look at her child without feeling grief and sadness. She felt something new now, as she held her little girl, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Was it guilt? Why would she feel guilty? Suddenly, as she gains full consciousness, a memory buried deep, resurfaces in her mind. It was a cold night, she remembered the hypothermia setting in as the police officer wrapped a blanket around her soaking body. She remembered the sadness in the officers eyes when he told her that they found her daughter still in her car seat, strapped in the van. She didn’t remember driving into the freezing lake, but she did remember telling her little girl to stay calm and stay in her seat as she climbed out of the sinking van. As all of this comes back to her, she becomes fully aware of the cold, wet child she was holding in her arms. “Sweetie?” she whispers with a shaking voice. The apparition begins to turn, her wet hair wrapping itself around Mary’s arm. When she is fully facing Mary, she opens her eyes. They are pure white and water is leaking from them, pouring down her face. She opens her mouth and let’s out a flood. she then makes a gurgling noise and whispers, “Why did you leave me mommy?” Mary is frozen with fear. Her body shakes involuntarily from the cold, she is now soaked from head to toe. The girl whispers her question again but Mary can’t open her mouth to answer. Suddenly, the water stops flowing from the ghosts mouth. She opens her mouth much wider than should be possible and let’s out a wailing scream. “WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME MOMMY?! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME??” She repeats this question over and over as water fills Mary’s lungs. Her vision begins to blur and she feels water leaking out of her ears, muffling all sound. The last thing Mary hears is a giggle from her daughter. “Now mommy will never leave me.”

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 hr. ago Into-My-Void The priest finally revealed his perfect prophecy: “I’ve had many visions, and I’m sure of it now — the end of the world will happen in 20–” He never finished the sentence, vanishing instantly when the thing woke up twenty years early. Upvote 13 Downvote 1 comments TyrconnellFL •5h ago Commenter Māna-Yood-Susha̅i̅ in shambles.

ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 03/06/22 ┏ೋ━┉┉━┉ೋ❍ೋ┉━┉━┉ೋ┓ ◄┢┅❒ೇ︨︧ꓸ᭄ ꦿ⃔⸙۪━━◇━━․ೇ︨︧ꓸ᭄ꦿ⃔⸙۪❒┅┧► ℐ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝒾𝓈ℯ ℐ 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶ℊ𝒶𝒾𝓃. ℐ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓃ℯℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇 𝒽ℴ𝓌 𝒾𝓉 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓊𝒹 ℴ𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊, 𝓉ℴ 𝓁ℴℴ𝓀 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝓇ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷ℯ 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓌ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓎ℴ𝓊. ℐ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓃ℯℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓂𝒷ℯ𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ ℐ 𝓉ℴ𝓁𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ𝓃'𝓉 ℊℴℴ𝒹 ℯ𝓃ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽. ℐ 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒾ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋ℯ, 𝓅𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒷ℴ𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁ℴ𝒶𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ ℴ𝓃𝓉ℴ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒷ℴ𝒹𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝒾𝓁, 𝓈ℴ ℴ𝓃𝓁𝓎 ℐ 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉ℴ 𝓁𝒾𝒻ℯ. (𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁. ℐ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓂𝒾𝓈ℯ.) ◄┢┅❒ೇ︨︧ꓸ᭄ꦿ⃔⸙۪۪━━◇━━․ೇ︨︧ꓸ᭄ꦿ⃔⸙۪❒┅┧► ┗ೋ━┉┉━┉ೋ✧ೋ┉━┉━┉ೋ┛

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 9 hr. ago Random_Clod The Test "You're going to do fine," my mother tells me in the waiting room. "I did the test when I was about your age; it's something we all have to do." "I know," I say. I want to point out that not everyone has to do it, but I don't. "You've got this," she says. "Don't worry so much." I can't help but worry. It's not long before the doctor comes and calls out my unit number. Soon, I tell myself, soon, I won't be called that anymore The first part is an intelligence test. Identifying patterns of colorful shapes and guessing which one is next in the sequence. Solving a maze and doing some basic addition. The doctor's eyes bore into me the entire time. I wonder if I'm working too slowly. Or too quickly? I'm overthinking, and it's making me heat up. The next part of the test is about emotions. She describes hypothetical situations and I respond with how I would feel. One of the questions is self-referential: if I passed this test, I would feel happy. Though, to me, 'happy' barely begins to describe how I imagine it. The entire test is even longer than I thought it'd be. I'm made to draw pictures of a house and a cat and myself. I read a wordless picture book about frogs and describe the story as best I can. I define a lot of words: 'empathy' and 'identity' and so on. By the time it's over, I feel like I just did calculus, and I'm actively overheating. The doctor wordlessly leads me back out and I think, soon, people will talk to me even when they don't need to. People will thank me for my time and wish me a nice day. Mom is cheerful as ever on the way home. She tells me there's no point in worrying now, as all we can do is wait for the results. I try to be cautiously optimistic, but as weeks go by the cautious part fades. I can't stop thinking about the name I've picked out, imagining how my ID card will look. In my sleep I dream of going to a real school and getting a job that pays real money. Of buying things for myself without using my mom's card. Of officially being her daughter, and someday even being a mother myself. The results come in the form of a video call nearly a month after the test. I rush to unplug myself and run over as soon as I hear it ringing. Mom and I sit together and are faced with the same doctor as before. "Well, ma'am, we've finished analyzing the test results…" Something inside me breaks when I realize she's only talking to my mom, not both of us. "I'm sorry, but Android Unit Eighteen-Five-One-Twelve has failed to meet the humanity threshold." "No," Mom says, to no reaction. "Obviously, as such, its application for legal personhood has been denied, as will any future applications." Random_Clod OP • If you fail the test once, you're 'not a person', and they're not going to spend any more time on you because you're not thought of as something that can evolve the way people do. The make-or-break cruelty was meant to be part of the horror

r/TwoSentenceHorror 7 mo. ago aremissing The little girl knew her parents were lying when they told her that the monster she kept seeing wasn't real. She couldn't think of anything else the doctor could have been talking about when she'd overheard him fearfully telling her parents, "it's back, and it's in her brain."

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago Waiting4MidMoon A Decision, Too Late The world flipped and turned upside down as my brakes fa!led and, my car tumbled off the edge of the bridge. Honestly, it's true, what they say - It really does feel like everything's slow motion. Glass shattered, metal twisted, and waters ru$hed in, all within a slow micro second, and my bödy froze as my braın tries to rapidly assess this deądly situation at händ. My seatbelt was completely jammed, my legs where cr#shed under the steering wheel and the car was very quickly filling with water. I was tr@pped. I started to paпic. I tried to open the door, but it was jammed. I tried the windows, but they were unresponsive. My living nightmare was getting worse with each pass1ng second. The water lev3l was rising, and I still had no way out. That's when I realized I might have one more avenue of escape - my phone. I dug through my pockets, and, to my relief, my phone was still intact. I managed to dial my wife's number and waited. I got her voicemail. “Honey, listen, something's hâppeñed. I’ve been in an accıdent, and I'm... I'm in the rıvers." Every word I said trebled and stumbled out my møuth. "The car's filling up, and, erm...I-I don't think I'm gonna make it..." I'm overwhelmed. I wanted to say how sorry I am for the work̀ trip. I wanted to tell her that it's barely a work̀ trip at all! I wanted to tell her how much I love her and that I was actually turning around. I wanted to fix our prob1ems. But it escalated quickly. I chøke as my lungs refuse to work; my car's over halfway submerged. It's seconds til my head's undxrwatxr. An almighty thump of adrenaline shot through my veins, and I was finally able to speak again. Before I took my final breαthe, I managed to say one final thing; "Baby, I love you so, so much my princess...I love you oh so much..." I finally said goodbye, hung up the phone, and unwillingly accepted my fate. Deäth had finally come for me. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide̴. And I was alonȩ. The water closed in around me and all I could think about was my famıly. As I took my last breαthe, I realized that something was floating in front of me. It was a piece of paper with my wife's handwriting on it; I KnOw where you're going, you cheat e ...Be careful with ThE brakes...

🅷 :o2: 🆆 🆃 :o2: 🅻🅴🆃 🅶 :o2: Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 01/01/22 ╔╦══• •✠•❀ - ❀•✠ • •══╦╗ ╚╩══• •✠•❀ - ❀•✠ • •══╩╝ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ° ┊ ˚. ┊ ┊ ________________ ┊┊┊┊┊ ⋆┊┊ ┊⋆ ˚✯┊☪⋆ ✩ ☪⋆｡˚┊˚✩ ┊ ┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊ ⋆✩ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⿻ : ♡ :hearts: 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. ׂׂૢ ●❯───────｢⊙｣───────❮● ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⇥ : :blossom: ᝢ ଓ 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎. 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙱𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝. ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ●❯───────｢⊙｣───────❮● ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⭞ ￤ :ocean: : ⌗ ⸒⸒ 𝚄𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝. ੈ✩‧₊˚ ●❯───────｢⊙｣───────❮● ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ :coffee: ⦂ 𖧒 :fire: ーー !? ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚘. 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎. ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ ●❯───────｢⊙｣───────❮● ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀〻 :: 🥃 §¡~~~~~~~~ꜜ 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗. ୭̥⋆*｡ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗⭗

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago kasuyagi Today, my little sister woke up missing her eyes All the test showed no abnormality, except for her skull x-ray missing her eye sockets. The doctors were speechless. Iris adjusted to her new life, slowly. She took a break from school. Actually, she was always strange prior to this incident. First, she's 10, but could only speak no more than two words per sentence. "Isaac, Hungry." She never showed emotions. I thought she would stopped drawing flowers on everything after the incident. They just got more squiggly. One day, she drew something different. No more flowers, but 'eyes.' On desks, walls, eyes everywhere. Cleaning them everyday got tiring. Everytime Mom tried to make her draw only in paper, Iris threw a tantrum. She mentioned seeing with those eyes. I suspected. She began to repeat. "Mom, fell." I didn't understand it first. Then, she drew lots of eyes mostly at the stairs. "Mom, fell." And weeks later, Mom fell down that very flight of stairs. Since Mom's hospitalized, I had to take care of Iris alone. I took all her art supplies. Her mood got worse everyday. One time when I came back from school, the living room was coated in eyes painted by ketchup. But the worst of all, she began mumbling words you shouldn't be hearing from your own family. "Isaac, dead." I was reaching the limit with this girl. I planned to wait until Mom came back. Right now, I would let her say whatever she wanted. One night, I bought a lamp, a UV lamp specifically. You know, for a party next week. These kind of lamp reveals stains on your walls. I regretted my curiosity. Eyes, eyes, covered every single square inches of my house, written by some sort of invisible ink. "Iris! you-" Then, she was there, shrouded in darkness. "A UV pen? How the-" As she stepped in the living room, the black light shone on her, revealing eyes, dozens of them, drawn all over her body. They shimmered, especially the largest one on her forehead. "Isaac, dead" "Isaac, dead" "ISAAC, DEAD!" She sprinted onto me, screaming. Running across hundreds of glowing eyes in the room. Pushed me over the couch. I tried to run, but she grabbed my ankle. I fell. "ISAAC, DEAD!" "ISAAC, DEAD!" "Y-You monster! Let me go!" I looked at her. The eyes on her was brighter and brighter. And then, The whole room was lit, followed by a loud bang. Iris still pushed me down. I turned my head. Half of the living room was destroyed. As the dust cleared out, something large in the middle of the room. It was a truck, crashed in through the front door right where I was standing before. Then, my face felt a splat. Clear water dripped from each of the painted eyes on Iris. Her voice trembled, repeatedly, "I-Isaac... safe.."

Drunk and hopeless, he stumbled to the garage and started the table saw, then slowly lowered his wrists toward the screaming blxde. ‘Hands’ by minnboy 2027 The doctor pulled the stethoscope ear tips out and hung the device around his neck. “Sir, all of your tests have come back neg͘at͟ive and my examination shows nothing abnormal.” He knew what was coming next, “I’m not cRaZy, Doctor.” “I’m sorry, but there is no phүsical reason for why you occasionally lose cøntrøl of your hands. A psychologist can help…”. “I don’t need therapy. I need answers. They seem to have a lįfe all their own. I can’t hold a jøb. I’m under ınvestıgatıon for as*ault. I almost kılled my neighbor. This can’t go on. I’ll try anything at this point.” After two weeks on a new medıcatıon, he saw no progress҉ and grew increasingly depressed. He was convinced that despite what the doctors said, it was not a psychological prxblem. That night, frustrated and angry, sat in a chair and drank bourbon. Drunk and hopeless, he stumbled to the garage and started the table saw, then slowly lowered his wrists toward the screaming blxde. Detective entered the garage where several uniformed officers stood over the blood-soaked bødy. “So what do we get?” he asked, taking in the blood-splattered sc3ne.”This is a weırd one, Detective.” “How so?” “Take a look at the bødy. He apparently chopped ơff his hands with the table saw and bled to dEath.” Detective knelt. “And?” “And we can’t find his hands anywhere.”

ᴬ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵒⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ➵ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟧𝟫𝟢 "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵃᵗˡᵒᵃᶠ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ; ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵇᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉʳᵉ?" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗ ⁱˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳʸᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʳᵃⁿ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ⸴ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳˢʰ ᵇᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵘᵗ?" "ʸᵉˢ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵉʷ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ "ᵁᵐᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ!" "ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ? ᴴᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘⁿᵃˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒˢⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒⁿᵒᵘʳˢ‧ "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵘˢᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ!" ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧" ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵃʳⁱᵗʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉˢˢ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢʳᵘᵖᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵃˢˢ ᵍᵉⁿᵒᶜⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛⁱᶜᵗⁱᵐˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ! ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢʰᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ʰᵘᵍ‧

All I saw was red ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ I check into small hotel some kilometres away. It is late. I am tired. I tell woman at desk I want a room. She tells me room number and give key. “But one more thing, comrade; there is one room without number and always lock. Don’t even peek in there.” I take key and go to room to sleep. Night comes and I hear trickling of water. It comes from the room across. I cannot sleep so I open door. It is coming from room with no number. I pound on door. No response. I look in keyhole. I see nothing except red. Water still trickling. I go down to front desk to complain. “By the way who is in that room?” She look at me and begin to tell story. There was woman in there. M*rdered by her husband. Skin all white, except her eyes, which were red..

https://scontent-dfw5-2.cdninstagram.com/o1/v/t16/f1/m84/604D0064A3B46C5C34B0169CB7A9D198_video_dashinit.mp4?efg=eyJxZV9ncm91cHMiOiJbXCJpZ193ZWJfZGVsaXZlcnlfdnRzX290ZlwiXSIsInZlbmNvZGVfdGFnIjoidnRzX3ZvZF91cmxnZW4uZmVlZC5jMi41NzYuYmFzZWxpbmUifQ&_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-2.cdninstagram.com&_nc_cat=108&vs=311602891465589_4050921227&_nc_vs=HBksFQIYTGlnX2JhY2tmaWxsX3RpbWVsaW5lX3ZvZC82MDREMDA2NEEzQjQ2QzVDMzRCMDE2OUNCN0E5RDE5OF92aWRlb19kYXNoaW5pdC5tcDQVAALIAQAVABgkR0twaTd4WWRsZThLMnI0REFLQW5CVmtka0xBMWJwa3dBQUFGFQICyAEAKAAYABsAFQAAJsaz8aWu8cg%2FFQIoAkMzLBdARHMzMzMzMxgSZGFzaF9iYXNlbGluZV8xX3YxEQB16gcA&ccb=9-4&oh=00_AfDT8kmZrgspOVwWvQ1ZuPw9mprBLVhuEPc5wD9SE1PRHg&oe=6518B80C&_nc_sid=2999b8

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

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

SherlockHolmesz 25 apr 2023 On average, you walk past 36 murderers in your lifetime. ~iFunny

ᵀʰᵉ ᴱⁿᵈ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ╰┈➤𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ╰┈➤𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 ᵀʰᵉ ᶠˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵈʳᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵉˢ!" ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵃʳ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵃᶻᵉ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈ 'ᶜᵒᵖᵉᵖᵒᵈ' ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ 'ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒᶻᵒᵃ' ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˢᵃᵘᶜᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵃʸ ᵇʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ'ˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵉʸᵒⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵖᵃⁱʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ! ᴺᵒ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘⁿᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁱᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁱᵗ‧ "ᴷᵉᵉᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵐᵉᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ; ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᶠᶠᵒʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵒᵒᵈⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ? ᴬʰʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ‧ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ; ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵐᵇᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵘᵐᵇ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ‧‧‧" ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ˢʰᵒᵖ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵉˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵘⁿˡᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵀᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ ᵇᵒᵈʸ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵒᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᶻᶻᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ! ᴴᵘʳʳʸ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ‧ ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ; ᵈᵒ ᵃˢ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈⁱˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ; ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶜᵒʸ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵉᵗᶜ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵖʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾᵉʳᶜʰ ᴾᵉʳᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉʷˢ ᶜʳᵉʷ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ!" 'ᴾᵉʳᶜʰ ᴾᵉʳᵏⁱⁿˢ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ᴹʳ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘⁿˢᵖᵉᵃᵏᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗʳᵒᶜⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ʰᵃˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᵒᵇᵒˢˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵛⁱ́ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧' puƎ ǝɥꓕ

Types of -Cide For Your Writing Suıcıde - Act of kılling yourself Regicide - Act of kılling a king or queen Vaticide - Act of kılling a prophet Parricide - Act of kılling any relative Mariticide - Act of kılling your husband Uxoricide - Act of kılling your wi҉fé Siblicide - Act of kılling your sibling Sororicide - Act of kılling your sister Fratricide - Act of kılling your brother Matricide - Act of kılling your mother Filicide - Act of kılling your chıld Infanticide - Act of kılling a chıld within their first year of life Patricide - Act of kılling your fãther Avunculicide - Act of kılling your uncle Nepoticide - Act of kılling your nephew Amicide - Act of kılling your frıend Senicide - Act of kılling an elderly Hom*cide - Act of kılling a person Pedicide - Act of kılling chıldren Democide - Mürder of a person or people by the government Omnicide - Act of kılling humans with intentions to make them extinct Deicide - Act of kılling a deity, divine being, or god Mundicide - Act of kılling a planet

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

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

Anglo-Celt Published in Cavan, county Cavan Ann MORRISON for her child on 5th January last. Frances MORROW, sworn and examined -- Knows Ann MORRISON who was in her service ; she came to witness' house on the 10th of January ; she asked her what became of the baby, prisoner said it was dead-born ; did not say who the father was ; she remained nine days in her house, and the Head-Constable arrested her the Friday after. James SPROULL, Esq., M.D., sworn and examined. He deposed to having made a post mortem examination ; the child must have from strangulation ; there was a conjestion(sic) of the lungs ; there was a mark on the left side of the neck ; strangulation must have been caused by the thumb ; the child was a fine child. The witness gave similar testimony to the Court. http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Cavan/1857/MAR.html March 5, 1857

🇮🇪 Anne MAGOURTY charged with the murder (by poison) of her stepson, Patrick Magourty at Teebane, on the 16th of February 1877. 🇮🇪

🩸🫀🙏🧠🍷🫀🫁🩹🕵🏽🦌🍖

ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧