Reflectioncore Emojis & Text

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago Personal-Tea7226 I stood and looked at myself in the mirror When my reflection mouthed “it’s behind you!”

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

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

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

Search the dictionary "horror" meaning in All languages combined Noun [English] IPA: /ˈhɒɹ.ə/ [New-England, Received-Pronunciation], /ˈhɔɹ.ɚ/ [Canada, General-American], /ˈhɑɹ.ɚ/ [New-York-City, Philadelphia], /ˈhɔɚ/ (note: some accents) Audio: en-us-horror.ogg ▶️ [US] Forms: horrors [plural] [Show additional information ▼] (countable, uncountable) An intense distressing emotion of fear or repugnance. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (intense distressing fear or repugnance): tmerr [masculine] (Albanian), رُعْب (ruʕb) [masculine] (Arabic), خَوْف (ḵawf) [masculine] (Arabic), սարսափ (sarsapʿ) (Armenian), ահ (ah) (Armenian), vahimə (Azerbaijani), dəhşət (Azerbaijani), жах (žax) [masculine] (Belarusian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Belarusian), ভয় (bhoẏ) (Bengali), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Bulgarian), страх (strah) [masculine] (Bulgarian), horror [masculine] (Catalan), 恐怖 (kǒngbù) (Chinese Mandarin), 恐懼 (Chinese Mandarin), 恐惧 (kǒngjù) (Chinese Mandarin), hrůza [feminine] (Czech), gru (Danish), rædsel (Danish), gruwel [masculine] (Dutch), õudus (Estonian), kauhu (Finnish), kammo (Finnish), hirveys (Finnish), horreur [masculine] (French), effroi [masculine] (French), horror [masculine] (Galician), საშინელება (sašineleba) (Georgian), Angst [feminine] (German), Furcht [feminine] (German), Horror [masculine] (German), Grauen [neuter] (German), Greuel [masculine] (German), 𐌿𐍃𐍆𐌹𐌻𐌼𐌴𐌹 (usfilmei) [feminine] (Gothic), τρόμος (trómos) [masculine] (Greek), אֵימָה (éima) [feminine] (Hebrew), दहशत (dahśat) [feminine] (Hindi), आतंक (ātaṅk) [masculine] (Hindi), भय (bhay) [masculine] (Hindi), borzalom (Hungarian), ógn [feminine] (Icelandic), horor (Indonesian), uafás [masculine] (Irish), orrore [masculine] (Italian), 恐怖 (kyōfu) (alt: きょうふ) (Japanese), 恐れ (osore) (alt: おそれ) (Japanese), қорқыныш (qorqynyş) (Kazakh), ភេរវារម្មណ៍ (pheirĕəʼviərɑm) (Khmer), 공포 (gongpo) (alt: 恐怖) (Korean), 무서움 (museoum) (Korean), 두려움 (duryeoum) (Korean), коркунуч (korkunuc) (Kyrgyz), horror [masculine] (Latin), šausmas [feminine] (Latvian), siaubas (Lithuanian), šiurpas (Lithuanian), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Macedonian), страв (strav) [masculine] (Macedonian), аймшиг (ajmšig) (Mongolian), gru [feminine] (Norwegian Bokmål), redsel [masculine] (Norwegian Bokmål), orror (Occitan), ōga [masculine] (Old English), دهشت (dahšat) [masculine] (Pashto), وحشت (vahšat) (Persian), دهشت (dahšat) (Persian), Grul [feminine] (Plautdietsch), groza [feminine] (Polish), strach [masculine] (Polish), horror [masculine] (Portuguese), groază [feminine] (Romanian), oroare [feminine] (Romanian), spaimă [feminine] (Romanian), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Russian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Russian), боя́знь (bojáznʹ) [feminine] (Russian), घोर (ghora) [masculine] (Sanskrit), у̏жа̄с [Cyrillic, masculine] (Serbo-Croatian), ȕžās [Roman, masculine] (Serbo-Croatian), hrôza [feminine] (Slovak), groza [feminine] (Slovene), horror [masculine] (Spanish), skräck [common-gender] (Swedish), fruktan [common-gender] (Swedish), fasa [common-gender] (Swedish), даҳшат (dahšat) (Tajik), ваҳшаг (vahšag) (Tajik), дәһшәт (dähşät) (Tatar), куркыныч (qurkınıç) (Tatar), empelñe (Tocharian B), korku (Turkish), dehşet (Turkish), elhençlik (Turkmen), жах (žax) [masculine] (Ukrainian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Ukrainian), دہشت (dahśat) [feminine] (Urdu), قورقۇنچ (qorqunch) (Uyghur), qoʻrquv (Uzbek), dahshat (Uzbek), sự khiếp (Vietnamese), sự ghê rợn (Vietnamese) [Show more ▼] (countable, uncountable) Something horrible; that which excites horror. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear [Show more ▼] (countable, uncountable) Intense dislike or aversion; an abhorrence. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (intense dislike or aversion): отвраще́ние (otvrašténie) [neuter] (Bulgarian), kammo (Finnish), inho (Finnish), dégoût (French), aversion (French), отвраще́ние (otvraščénije) [neuter] (Russian), омерзе́ние (omerzénije) [neuter] (Russian) [Show more ▼] (uncountable) A genre of fiction designed to evoke a feeling of fear and suspense. Tags: uncountable Categories (topical): Horror, Fear, Genres, Horror, Literary genres [Show more ▼] (countable) An individual work in this genre. Tags: countable Translations (literary genre): жах (žax) [masculine] (Belarusian), у́жаси (úžasi) [masculine, plural] (Bulgarian), terror (Catalan), 恐怖 (kǒngbù) (Chinese Mandarin), horor (Czech), kauhu (Finnish), kauhukirjallisuus (Finnish), Horror [masculine] (German), ホラー (horā) (Japanese), 호러 (horeo) (Korean), 공포 (gongpo) (alt: 恐怖) (Korean), у́жаси (úžasi) [masculine, plural] (Macedonian), хо́рор (hóror) [masculine] (Macedonian), horror [masculine] (Portuguese), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Russian), ужа́стик (užástik) [colloquial, masculine] (Russian), хо́ррор (xórror) [masculine, neologism] (Russian), skräck [common-gender] (Swedish), жах (žax) [masculine] (Ukrainian) [Show more ▼] (countable, colloquial) A nasty or ill-behaved person; a rascal or terror. Tags: colloquial, countable Categories (topical): Fear [Show more ▼] (informal) An intense anxiety or a nervous depression; often the horrors. Tags: countable, informal, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (informal: intense anxiety): täpinät [plural] (Finnish) [Show more ▼] (in the plural, informal) Delirium tremens. Tags: countable, in-plural, informal, uncountable [Show more ▼] The following are not (yet) sense-disambiguated Synonyms: nightmare, horrour (english: hypercorrect spelling or archaic) [UK] Hypernyms: speculative fiction Related terms: horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifical, horrification, horrify [Show more ▼] Noun [Galician] IPA: [ɔˈroɾ] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: masculine Synonyms: espanto, pavor, terror Related terms: horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Noun [Hungarian] IPA: [ˈhorːor] [Show additional information ▼] horror [Show more ▼] Noun [Latin] IPA: /ˈhor.ror/ [Classical], [ˈhɔrːɔr] [Classical], /ˈor.ror/ (note: modern Italianate Ecclesiastical), [ˈɔrːor] (note: modern Italianate Ecclesiastical) [Show additional information ▼] bristling (standing on end) Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] shaking, shivering, chill Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] dread, terror, horror Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] The following are not (yet) sense-disambiguated Related terms: horrendus, horridus, horribilis, horrificus Noun [Old French] Forms: horror oblique singular or [canonical, feminine], horrors [oblique, plural], horror [nominative, singular], horrors [nominative, plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror or terror Synonyms: horrour, horrur [Show more ▼] Noun [Polish] IPA: /ˈxɔr.rɔr/ [Show additional information ▼] (colloquial) horror (something horrible; that which excites horror) Tags: colloquial, inanimate, masculine [Show more ▼] horror movie Tags: inanimate, masculine Synonyms: film grozy [Show more ▼] horror (literary genre) Tags: inanimate, masculine [Show more ▼] Noun [Portuguese] IPA: /oˈʁoʁ/ [Brazil], [oˈhoh] [Brazil], /oˈʁoʁ/ [Brazil], [oˈhoh] [Brazil], /oˈʁoɾ/ [São-Paulo], [oˈhoɾ] [São-Paulo], /oˈʁoʁ/ [Rio-de-Janeiro], [oˈχoχ] [Rio-de-Janeiro], /oˈʁoɻ/ [Southern-Brazil], [oˈhoɻ] [Southern-Brazil], /ɔˈʁoɾ/ [Portugal] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: masculine Synonyms: temor, terror Related terms: horrendo, hórrido, horrífero, horrífico, horripilar, horrível, horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Adjective [Romanian] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: feminine, indeclinable, masculine, neuter [Show more ▼] Noun [Romanian] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: neuter [Show more ▼] Noun [Spanish] IPA: /oˈroɾ/, [oˈroɾ] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror; terror Wikipedia link: Diccionario crítico etimológico castellano e hispánico Tags: masculine Synonyms: miedo, temor, terror Derived forms: horror al vacío Related terms: horrendo, horrible, hórrido, horrífico, horripilante, horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Inflected forms horrores (Noun) [Portuguese] plural of horror horrores (Noun) [Spanish] plural of horror horrors (Noun) [English] plural of horror horrore (Noun) [Latin] ablative singular of horror horroribus (Noun) [Latin] dative/ablative plural of horror horrorem (Noun) [Latin] accusative singular of horror horroris (Noun) [Latin] genitive singular of horror horrori (Noun) [Latin] dative singular of horror horrorum (Noun) [Latin] genitive plural of horror horrores (Noun) [Latin] nominative/accusative/vocative plural of horror Alternative forms horrour (Noun) [Old French] Alternative form of horror horrour (Noun) [English] Misspelling of horror. horrour (Noun) [English] Obsolete form of horror. horrow (Noun) [English] Alternative form of horror If you use this data in academic research, please cite Tatu Ylonen: Wiktextract: Wiktionary as Machine-Readable Structured Data, Proceedings of the 13th Conference on Language Resources and Evaluation (LREC), pp. 1317-1325, Marseille, 20-25 June 2022. Linking to the relevant page(s) under https://kaikki.org would also be greatly appreciated.

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

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

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

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

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

My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Tasty_Freedom459 Being the first person on the moon is such a amazing experience Being the first forgotten, not so much

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

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

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

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

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

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

🪶

🪞🎀🔪

🪞🕯️　☁️

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

r/shortscarystories 1 day ago Chemical-Elk-1299 My family died in a fire. I think it was my fault. I only remember one thing from my childhood. Fire. I couldn’t remember how it happened, or why. Only the nagging sensation that I had something to do with it. I remember the heat and the horror, a yawning red mouth that swallowed everything in its path. The humanity. The fear. The sound of groaning metal. Crawling out of the flames while women screamed in a language I couldn’t understand. Then nothing. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by white walls and doctors. They told me it was a hospital. That I needed to be kept under observation. Apparently I should have burnt to death, but I didn’t. In fact, there wasn’t a scratch on me, apart from a lump on my head. Concussion. After two months, I figured it out — I wasn’t just being healed. I was being studied. This was no ordinary hospital. But it wasn’t like I was going anywhere. When I first awoke, I had to relearn everything. How to walk. How to talk. After I’d recovered, one of the researchers explained — the government wanted to know how I’d started the fire. How I’d survived it. Apparently, I’d be of some use to them if I could only remember. But I have an idea. I’ve been here for a long time. The men studying me have grown worn and grey, but my face hasn’t aged. They had me run tests where I stared at other prisoners, told to think “hot thoughts”. And sure enough, every so often — tender flames, smoldering weakly around their feet. But it was never enough. They wanted to know how I started the big one. To counteract the amnesia, they’d put me through “hypnotherapy”. Something about my subconscious. I’d get flashes. We were flying to America. An airship. It was… a long time ago. I was mad at my sister. Something about father loving her more than me. How mother called me a freak. I was so angry. I wanted to hurt her, as badly as she’d hurt me. So, I closed my eyes. I thought of my sister, curling like bacon in the fire. A spark. Father’s skin sloughing off in smoking ribbons. Mother plummeting to the ground, far below. Flames against an endless sky. The therapy ended there. Too painful. Eventually, my captors resorted to drastic measures. They wanted my power, needed it for their own. And they needed me to remember how to use it. So they brought in someone to jog my memory. A survivor, they said. When they wheeled his decrepit old bones to my isolation cell, I could see it in his eyes. He knew me. We’d met before, in the sky long ago. He screamed, raged in a language so familiar and yet so foreign. German, I think. I didn’t understand, but I knew that he hated me. Would never forgive me. One name was clear, howled in my face again and again. “The Hindenburg”.

TOO MANY VANITY POSTS!!!!!!!!!! Posted on 9/11/2004, 12:50:47 PM by FreeManWhoCan ENOUGH ALREADY GUYS! STOP WITH THE VANITY POSTS! THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY, (INCLUDING THIS ONE!) HOW MANY POSTS DO WE HAVE TO SEE ABOUT? I ENJOY READING GOOD STORIES HERE, BUT HAVING TO SIFT THROUGHT ALL THESE VANITIES IS DRIVING ME NUTS...

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

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

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

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

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

It was my fault By Reddit user three_in_the_morning ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Josh and I were seniors in high school, who wanted to become math majors. He was more into solving difficult puzzles, I was more into making the solutions more faster and clean. Nonetheless, we were both teenage boys who enjoyed messing around with one another On his birthday his sister gave him a 10 x 10 x 10 Rubik's cube. His parents gave him a car: an old mustang his father had just finished tuning up the week prior. I gave him a book about the history of math. Throughout the next couple of weeks I noticed him changing. He started to talk less and less. He started to grow more thin and more tired.At lunch, his hands would just fidget under the lunch table. He spent most of his days either at home or at the library. After a three month absence from school, it was announced that he had an eating disorder and starved himself to death. we had an assembly for him in the gym. When it was his sister's turn to speak she started off by saying nice things about him before breaking down and blubbering about how it was her fault he was dead. He never had an eating disorder. He spent all his time on trying to solve the Rubik's cube she gave him for his birthday. That is when I remembered. This one time, he had went to the washroom and left the Rubik's cube on his desk. I thought it would be funny if I rearranged the stickers on it.

"?em ot od tsuj uoy did tahw ..." ,ksa ot deganam eh ,sgel sih neewteb niap eht fo esnes ekam ot yggorg ooT ".won namow a er'uoy snaem doolb eht ,seY" dlorahsiemansdadym oga .ry 4 rorroHecnetneSowT/r

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

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

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

‘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...

UNINSTALLING STEAM ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▢ 　　╭━╮╭━╮╭╮　╱ 　　 　　╰━┫╰━┫╰╯╱╭╮ 　　 　　╰━╯╰━╯╱　╰╯ 　 ERROR ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌█████ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌▀████ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

flodA deman s'eH 8881 .c yob ybab a ot htrib evig ot tnew dna ti tpek ehs os ,dias dah yeht "redael dlrow a eb ot pu worg ro tsitra na eb dluoc ybab ruoy" .noitanimret ycnangerp gniredisnoc s'ehs retfa dlihc reh peek ot degaruocne saw namow eht ,oga yrutnec a revO

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 9 hr. ago Original-Loquat3788 A Smalltown Bully Growing up, there was a bully in my town. I'd say, 'Mom, we should do something about him.' And my mom would glance around like a lamb and say, 'Just stay on his good side.' Once, we were in the yard making birds, and the bully took the clay geese in his hands and breathed into them. They came to life one by one, and we shouted and laughed as they soared over us. Then the bully, with a cruel smile, dropped his hands, and our birds plummeted– inert clay splatting the ground. … Another time, the neighbourhood kids were scrambling over the stone roofs of the huts, and one of the boys 'fell' to his death. Well, the boy's parents had nothing to lose and accused the bully outright. 'The devil sent you; we know you pushed him!' 'Would you like proof?' 'Proof?' 'Yes.' And the bully went over and lifted the burial shroud from the dead boy and ran his hands over his body. And the dead boy awoke and looked at us sideways because his neck had been snapped at a right angle. 'Son?' his mother screamed. 'Tell them you were not pushed,' The bully answered. And the boy stood there ghostly pale, his neck like a shepherd's crook. But his eyes were horrifying because they did not look over anything in this world, but some vast, unfathomable, eternal chasm of perpetual night. 'Tell them, I did not push you.' And the risen boy could not get his bearings in the land of the living, so the bully snapped his fingers, and he collapsed like an unattended marionette. 'Let's try again.' And the boy sprang to life, and his eyes said, I have seen birth and death and rebirth, and to experience both in the same day is an abomination. It went on like this as the people screamed, and the cattle screamed and the horses bolted, and the scorpions circled our sandals. And finally, after being dragged from the netherworld a tenth time the boy whimpered, 'He did not push me,' and the bully snapped his fingers, and the boy slumped over once and for all. … They tell me he now has a cult of followers. He goes into synagogues and takes impure spirits from the possessed. They tell me he still has his powers of reanimation and uses them for 'good'. In a town called Bethany, he raised a man named Lazarus, who had been dead for four days. They tell me he is our Salvation, but I have seen him in his youth, and I have seen his methods. If he is the new God, I will remain a pagan, and you can burn my body and cast my ashes to the wind so they may blow far from this land.

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

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."

  ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜    ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜    ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜ ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜ ⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜ ⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜    ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜    ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜       ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜       ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜         ⬜⬛⬛⬜           ⬜⬜⬜

Ｍｙ ｓｅｌｆ ｗｅｅｋ : ⚝ 𝘑𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ⚝ 𝘋𝘰 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 ⚝ 𝘋𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 ⚝ 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 ⚝ 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ⚝ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 ⚝ 𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘕𝘌𝘌𝘋 𝘛𝘖 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘍 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘉𝘖𝘋𝘠 𝘖𝘒𝘈𝘠? (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 16 hr. ago 2Casca_2Red Jessica curled up on her bed as her mum cautiously waltzed into the room and said, "I understand wanting to fit in... but I just don't want you to feel like you have to change who you are." That night, surrounded by the leering, fanged smiles of her new friends, Jessica slowly exposed her neck and said, "Do it."

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 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/TwoSentenceHorror 14 hr. ago Art_Detective A blood-covered kıller was staring into my soul as he stood over the bødy of his victim... Until I notıced the crack in the mirror.

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.

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."

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

Messages Dad Dec 26, 2012 2:14 PM Dad there's a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it? Pis hurry because I'm going to cry Dad Dad > Dec 26, 2012 2:30 PM < Dad is dead. You're next. Love, Moth

Adam Zad 1 year ago I tried to give blood the other day. Never again. Too many questions! Whose blood is it? Where did you get it? Why is it in a bucket?

. 9 years ago The First of Many I’m sleeping in my bed. A creaking sound comes from outside my bedroom window. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s 12:04. I always wake up at 12:04. The creaking gets louder and more intense. I roll out of bed and open my curtains to see what’s causing the noise. There in the yard is a tall, thin black figure with a pale white face. It has no nose, and just two empty sockets for eyes. It’s oblong mouth is shaking, obviously the source of the creaking noise. The thing’s cheekbones are sunken in, and it’s ribs jut out of it's shadowy skin. There’s an aura of smog surrounding it. As soon as I look into it’s lifeless sockets it releases an ear piercing shriek. I let go of the curtains and run to my door. I have to warn my parents and make sure my sister is safe. As soon as I open the door it’s in my hallway waiting. I freeze. The air turns icy. It slowly reaches one of it's long skinny arms towards me. I still can’t move. It has three long jagged fingers. Being this close, I can see that it's flesh is scarred, twisted and torn. Blacker than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s longest finger hooks under my jaw, and through my mouth. I try to scream but nothing but a wet gurgle comes out. A proud hum comes from the thing’s chest. It seems proud. It lifts me off my feet and pins me to the wall by my chin. It’s other hand slowly digs all three of it's dagger- like fingers into my neck. I’m choking now. It releases me, and I slide down the wall. It looks down at me and my vision starts to flicker. Then it turns, and with two long strides, sneaks into my parents bedroom. I try making any kind of noise to warn them, but nothing comes out. I hear muffled screaming. Then nothing. It pokes it’s head out of the door to make sure I’m still watching. Then it drags my parent’s bloodƴ corpses into the hallway. Their throats are slit. It lays them side by side in front of me. Only a foot away from my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish to dıe already. I feel claws on my eyes. It pinches my eyelids and with one fluid motion rips them both off. Everything burns. I can barely make out my parents’ faces through all the red. It leans down and presses it's cheek to theirs. The corners of it's dark mouth lift into a wicked grin. Everything goes black. I wake up in bed. It’s 12:04. There’s a creaking coming from the window.

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.."

I see the death of everyone I meet. (Written by JJX2525, from Reddit) SHARED JUN 05 I see the death of everyone I meet. Once, when I was in kindergarten, I got booted out of class for telling the new girl Abigail that she smelt bad̳. I remember it vividly – a bloody-burny-boozy smell that hit me the moment she came in. Abigail burst into tears and I got a stern lecture on telling lıes. But it wasn’t a lie. My little nose had leapt forward ten years into the future, where a teenage Abigail would drunkenly plough her parent’s Mitsubishi straight into the front of an oncoming bus. When we met again in middle school I smelt it a second time, along with the song she’d be playing on the radio – five seconds of a generic disco beat. The last thing she’d hear. I know it’s bad҉ to say, but I think there’s something sacred about it. There’s nothing more personal then someone’s last̀ moments of lífe. I try not to take it for granted. It’s hard, sometimes, though, especially once I got older and better at it. Along with smells came sounds, sights, and even feelings, though that last one was rare. In this day and age most people go to their dEath with pastel colours and blinking machines and a faint whiff of hand sanitizer, their brains too fizzled to know what’s about to happen. There are exceptions. Like Abigail, or my middle school gym teacher, who was going to dıe with a deafening bang in a rush of mad courage. I couldn’t hear a word of his opening lecture because my ears were still ringing. Suıcıde will do that to you. Have I ever told anyone? Of course not. Can you imagine? Even if they did believe me, which I doubt, it wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of them. They’d want to know what I saw in them. Which is fine for the heart attacks and the quietly-in-their-sleeps, but what do you say to a m√rder? And no you can’t change it, don’t ask me because I already tried, I already tried and you can’t beat the system. You just can’t. I already lost someone to that. Her name was Phoebe and she was in my History class at community college. It was a prettɥ small place and I knew most of the other kids there – except for her. We weren’t on speaking terms because every time she came within a few feet of me I got the urge to vom1t. It was motion sickness, but also something worse – fear. Hers was the worst fear I’d ever felt in another human being. I could hardly stand to be in the same room as her. I managed to avoid her for a couple months, until one day when she arrived late to class. She apologised and looked around, before striding to the back of the room and sitting beside me. There was nothıng I could do. I felt it all. The nausea, the terror, and a vision too, of me stuck fast in my seat as I hurdles headlong flaming out of the sky – the ocean rushing up towards me – screaming, then – Smack. Nothıng. When I came to she was glaring at me. ‘What is your problem?’ she whispered. ‘What?’ I asked, the uneasiness subsiding. ‘I don’t –‘ ‘If you don’t like̢ me then just say so. Quit pretending to be ıll all the time.’ ‘Huh?’ I sat up, trying to get a better look at her. We’d never been this close before. She was pretty. I hadn’t thought about how I must look to her, running away every time she got close. ‘I swear it’s not on purpose.’ I said. ‘I’m sick͞ a lot. It isn’t you.’ ‘Sure.’ she said, looking back towards the front of the front of the class. ‘Honestly.’ I said. ‘Let me – let me make it up to you.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ And that was the start of it. Within a month we were official. It was the happiest time of my life. The sicknesses didn’t go away, but it subsided after a couple minutes, and she stopped taking it personally after a while. Dashing to the bathroom became part of the routine on dates. We did everything together, all the couple things – movies, dinners, walks. It was my first serious relationship. I convinced myself that her dEath – whatever it was – was still years into the future. For a while, anyway. At the start of the summer she told me she was going to visit her grandparents out of state. ‘The flight’s on Monday. I won’t be gone much more than a week.’ ‘Flight?’ I repeated. ‘Yeah.” she replied. ‘Hey, what’s wrong with you?’ I convinced her to take a road trip. I can’t remember the exact excuse I gave. Some nonsense about expenses, life experience, our ‘carbon footprint’. How it took me that long to guess it could be a plane crash I’ll never know. I was in too deep, I guess. But whatever it was I said she must have seen I was serious. She rented a red mini from the local garage and, after we’d packed it up, I kissed her goodbye and said it was the right decision. ‘Okay.’ She laughed. ‘Weirdo.’ Straight after she left I got the urge to call her, but I told myself I was being overprotective. I worked for a few hours, then flopped down in front of the TV. I watched bad reality shows until I got bored, then flicked to the local news station just in time to see the breakıng story of a twelve car pile-up on a suspension bridge, when a truck driver dozing at the wheel had strayed out of his lane, clipping the corner of a passing car which swerved into another, triggering a chain of collisions which ended tragically when – some viewers may find this footage disturbing – a red mini was forced over the side, plummeting into the ocean beloɯ..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 10 hr. ago Throwayajustcus ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ And just like that, the last star in the Universe whimpered goodnight and left an infinite darkness in it's place. Of all my memories, the one I see most often as I drift through the endless cosmos is the look of pity on the genies face when I told him I wanted to live forever..

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..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago AuthorDuff ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Mommy, there's something under my bed," the girl yelled. I cûrsêd at myself for being too loud as I watched the mother's feet enter the bedroom.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago jdyerjdyer ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Everyone thinks the new baby is so precious that they completely forgot I exist. Big brother is about to be an only child, again.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago AeonofSin ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Joyous laughter and playful screaming from children filled my halls.. I sat in the corner of the room shaking in fear, trying to avoid looking at their glowing red eyes like my wife did before she was eaten..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago CalebVanPoneisen ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Stinging paın jolts me awake, but my broken bødy reminds me that I did survive the plane crash. Dozens of exotic snails are grazing my motionless bødy, slowly tearing into my flesh, while I can do nothing but silently witness my torment..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago ThatManiacMan ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ “This year for Valentine’s Day, I wanted to show you just how much I love you!” I couldn’t understand why she was screaming after she opened the box with my heart inside, beating faster than ever before...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago RandomCedricplayz The saddest part about my deαth is that, for months prior, I had a goal to develop into a healthy and happy person. Despite my premature passing, I'm happy to know that, in the end, I was still born.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago saltwatertaffy324 I focussed solely on my children, telling myself the moments wouldn’t last forever once they grew up It wasn’t until after I put them on the bus did I check my phone to see all the alerts about cancelled school.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago RandomCedricplayz The medics told me to wait 30 minutes in the other room in case there is a bad reaction When I entered the other room and saw a bunch of dēαd people in chairs, I knew I made a crucial mistake.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago iiproc One day USB ports appeared behind people's heads My doctor told me my data is corrupting too fast for my age my doctor told me my data is corrupting too fast for my doctor...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 17 min. ago cindybubbles To pass the time, everyone in our bunker played “Never have I ever …” and I pulled out a card that read “… had my head chopped off.” Everyone stayed still, except for one girl who bared the stitches round her neck...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 yr. ago normancrane I learnt my mum and dad were both proudly pro-choice parents. That's why, as I fatally strangled them with my umbilical cord, they must have respect my choice to not have parents.

𝙎𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎 Today. You smiled at me. Your voice rang through the phone, sentimental dreams shared. A crusader against my nightmares. I watched you blow out your birthday candles, silent whispers of divine wishes floating out with the call. Your wish was to no longer exist, amongst the cries of the sky. So, you held in your final goodbyes, keeping those words withheld, as the hit of grim made your world go dim. Today, We buried you.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 58 min. ago drrkorby “These nasty vermin destroy everything they get into, and even soil their own nests.” “We must stop now these “humans”, as they call themselves, before they infest our home” pleaded the president of the Galactic council.

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

“So if you really are responsible for those unsolved kidnappings,” started the skeptical amateur reporter, “how do you lure your victims?” “With an interview.” by MintClicker

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

Surgeon Robert Liston In 1847, a doctor performed an amputation in 25 seconds, operating so quickly that he accidentally amputated his assistant's fingers as well. Both later died of sepsis, and a spectator reportedly died of shock, resulting in the only known procedure with a 300% mortality rate.

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

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Classic-Dog8399 ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵖˡˢ ⬇️ When I picked up my daughter from the mental institution, something was off about her. It was not just the feeling in my soul, but the stitches across her forehead.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago Alien-Warrior-52 We were so relieved to find another habitable planet in the galaxy! Apparently, the people there call it “Earth.”

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago SuspiciousSlowpoke I lay on the floor, para1yzed and nearing deαth The last sound I hear is my new-born baby crying in the bath, as it slowly fills with water..

CREEPYPASTA ar كريبي باستا fa کریپی‌پاستا he קריפיפסטה ja クリーピーパスタ ko 크리피파스타 mk Крипипаста ru Крипипаста sr Крипипаста uk Крипі-паста zh_yue 恐怖意式麪 creepypastas horror-related legends or images that have been copy-and-pasted around the Internet Arabic كريبيباستا نوع من أنواع قصص الرعب Bulgarian крипипаста Czech creepypasta výraz pro hororové pověsti nebo obrázky šířící se pomocí internetu German Creepypasta Internetphänomen Persian کریپی پاستا No description defined French creepypasta légende urbaine diffusée sur internet Hebrew קריפיפסטה אגדת אימה Indonesian creepypasta cerita berbau legenda-horor atau gambar yang banyak disalin tempel di internet Italian Creepypasta racconto horror Japanese クリーピーパスタ インターネット上でコピー・アンド・ペーストを通じて流布している、恐怖を催させる説話や画像 Korean 크리피파스타 No description defined Macedonian крипипаста Norwegian Bokmål creepypasta gufne historier som er spredd over internett Dutch creepypasta horrorlegende die veelvuldig op internet gekopieerd en geplakt wordt Polish creepypasta krótkie legendy lub ilustracje z dreszczykiem rozpowszechniane w Internecie creepypastas Portuguese creepypasta lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet Brazilian Portuguese creepypasta lendas urbanas divulgadas através da internet creepypastas Romanian Pasta infricosatoare No description defined Russian крипипаста жанр интернет-фольклора Serbian Крипипаста Страшни видео снимци са интернета Turkish Creepypasta İnternet'te yayılan, korku içerikli efsaneler veya resimler Ukrainian Кріпі-паста No description defined Vietnamese Creepypasta Những câu chuyện ngắn kinh dị Cantonese Creepypasta No description defined Chinese (Taiwan) 蠕動義大利麵 No description defined Traditional Chinese 蠕動意麵 No description defined 恐怖意麵Creepypasta Chinese 蠕動意麵 No description defined 恐怖蠕動傳説 Spanish Creepypasta breves historias de terror

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago panicRobot ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ "For my third wish, I wish our puppy dogs lived as long as we..." The next day, not a single human over the age of fifteen remained on earth.