Shockcore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Shockcore Emojis & Symbols https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/rememberi

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
https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/remembering-those-we-have-lost-to-food-allergies
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago myymyy Rollercoaster "Mooooom, I don't like it. I want to get off!" I was a bit surprised. He had always been so brave. I was way more afraid than him when we got on. I never liked to be so high up from the ground. "This will be so much fun!", he had said when we were parking the car. I had kinda hoped he would be strong for both of us. "Oh honey, I'm sorry but we can't get off now, the ride has already started. But remember the small rollercoaster, in the park we went to when you were little? With the funny clown? This is just like that, only bigger. And remember how AWESOME it was?" My son looked at me with watery eyes. He had been so excited about this. I tried to swallow my own nervousness and keep talking to calm him down. My voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to put on a smile. "It's okay, it's okay. You might feel a bit funny in your stomach. It's because of the speed and the changes in the force that pushes you. It's normal! Listen, do you hear? Other people are scared too." He looked at me with his kind, blue eyes and nodded. Just barely. I wanted to hug him, but my back was pressing to the seat so heavily I couldn't move enough. So was his. My eyes caught a glimpse of the sun over my sons head. The sky was so bright. I tried to ignore the metallic clanging sound and people screaming somewhere that seemed to be so far away. Oh, how I missed the ground. Then I felt a big drop on my stomach. We were going faster and faster. My son started sobbing and I tightened my grib on his hand. I thought that he would become such a handsome man someday. He would end up having a good life, and marry a nice girl - or a guy, who knows? I didn't care as long as he was happy. That's all I wanted. For him to be happy and not scared. "Hey, you know what? Close your eyes. This will be over soon. I'm here. I'm not letting go." Someone behind us started to scream. I felt my blood run cold. I tried to keep my focus on the one thing that mattered: my sons hand and my calm voice that kept telling him that it was all going to be okay. Oh, he would become such a handsome man someday. But at this moment he was just a 6 year old boy on his first flight, going to surprise his grandparents all the way across the country. And the last thing I saw before I closed my own eyes, was the second engine on fire...
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
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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horror story (plural horror stories) (fiction) A fictional narrative of distressing events. The film is based on a horror story by Edgar Allan Poe. (informal) A disturbing rumour. ▼ We've heard horror stories about people being attacked in the elevator. An unpleasant experience. ▼ It was more of a horror story than a vacation. Translations Chinese Mandarin: 恐怖故事 (kǒngbù gùshì) Dutch: horrorverhaal (nl) n Finnish: kauhutarina (fi) French: histoire d’horreur f, histoire d’épouvante f Hungarian: horrortörténet Spanish: historia de terror, historia de miedo f Swedish: skräckhistoria (sv) Uyghur: قورقۇنچلۇق ھېكايە‎ (qorqunchluq hëkaye) ghost story (plural ghost stories) A story about ghosts or the supernatural, often meant to be frightening. quotations ▲ 2012, Andrew Martin, Underground Overground: A passenger's history of the Tube, Profile Books, →ISBN, page 261: There are the books full of Underground ghost stories. An invisible runner pounds along the platforms at Elephant & Castle; children scream in the basement of what used to be the surface building of Hyde Park Corner, [...] Translations ▲±story about ghosts Catalan: història de fantasmes f Chinese: Mandarin: 鬼故事 (guǐgùshì) Finnish: kummitusjuttu French: histoire de fantômes f German: Gespenstergeschichte (de) f Hungarian: kísértethistória (hu) Irish: scéal taibhsí m Italian: racconto dell'orrore m Korean: 괴담 (goedam) Norwegian: spøkelsesfortelling Portuguese: história de fantasmas f Spanish: historia de fantasmas f, cuento de fantasmas m Swedish: spökhistoria (sv) Welsh: stori fwgan f, stori ysbryd f
People may like horror for many different reasons. Personification of non-human's, perspective, etc. There's some considerate guidelines to take in-to account. Of course, horror's meant to be scary, but not to frightening as to cause panic attack. Trigger warnings may give away the ending or some plot twist. Here are some tips: ~Profanity. Can say like 'oh dear' or something. ~Gore, avoiding unnecessary graphic detail. ~Animals. Can be something like 'the dog growls at presence of ghost' ~Self harm, etc. You can, however, have a character sacrifice oneself. ~Abuse (like exploitation, arranged marriage) although you can imply abduct, poison, etc. ~Stereotyping groups (portraying certain authorities, religions, cultures, etc. as disrespectful) You can use (with discretion) controversial topics (execution, foeticide, the double effect, etc.) lightly. You can mention potential topics (cannibal, baby death, poisons, apocalypse, etc.) in story insofar as it partains to the plot, but no glorifying trauma. You can have the narrator be the villain, victim, or bystander. Have fun writing, and heed your emotions!

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----- Any stories involving triggering subjects must have a trigger warning -In addition stories, roleplay or jokes that include the mention of abusing Insensitive profiles are not allowed, this includes Nazi/ ww2 aesthetics that glorifies Ww2 and any profiles that glorify terrible points in history will not be tolerated including racism, harassment, etc. -In addition to this the use of slurs are not allowed Please respect and follow the rules, we want to keep the community nice!

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https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

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When I was 13, a bunch of girls decided to lock me into the gardening house. The sprinklers poured down, leaving me scared, wet, cold, and crying. A boy punched through the glass and, carried me to the school nurse, even with a bleeding, broken hand. My now-husband’s courage GMH Mar 11th, 2010
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.
Iᴛ sᴀᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ sʜᴇʟғ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛʟᴇss ᴘᴏʀᴄᴇʟᴀɪɴ ᴇʏᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛɪᴇsᴛ ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴅʀᴇss I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴅ. Wʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ sᴛɪʟʟ..
“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.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 yr. ago Lightuke After tucking my son into bed he says "check under it for monsters under my bed" I found my son hiding under it whimpering "Daddy, there's someone on my bed..."
~ -creepypastastories- Monsters and Ghosts Monsters are real, also ghosts They live inside us And sometimes they win

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‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░ ▄▄▄░░▄▄░▄▄░░▄▄░░░▄░░▄▄░░ ░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░ ░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░ ▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░ I 🤍 DAD
July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents. Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me. I smiled and asked, “How do you know?” He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.” Love GMH
Mʏ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛᴇʀʀɪʙʟᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴘʀᴇғᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. Tʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ɪɴ ʜɪɴᴅsɪɢʜᴛ, I ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ..
I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him
AGES 2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Under 25 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Over 65 + No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer
“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer
StressedAfraid_ My husband and I watched our daughter play in the park. We knew she was the perfect one to take home.
I NEED SOME BREAD AND CEREAL TOO June 7, 2017 @hellofinah You get a phone call from your Mum. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken... After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. Cashier makes an odd remark to you: “you know, we’re in no danger of a milk shortage...” Once arriving at mum's home, you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In some bags, the chicken and milk have gone stale. You call out for mum, but no reply. You make your way through the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her detached head neatly resting on her lap, is mum. Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. “It’s not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into series of repetitive behaviour” he says. You think to yourself, “They can’t be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?” Suddenly your cell phone goes off. “Hello?” “Hi hun, it’s me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too.” “No problem, mum; I’ll be right over…”
Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."

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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
‘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.”
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.
I destroy the monsters you don’t ever want to know about. by KMApok 'Why is there bad in the world?' It’s a common question, but it is misplaced. Light and dark. Without one, the other cannot exist. I roam the Earth, disposing of the bad wherever I find it. I destroy the ones you don’t even want to know about. I eliminate them completely so you can sleep at night. You people have no idea how many of you live because of the suffocating work I do. 'What about criminals, Mussolini, Adolph...' Well, those are the 'minor' ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I suffocatingly destroy are too horrible and vile to even speak of... You see, I would wager you never have heard of me, specifically in any religious texts. Still I bet you have known of me. Some, for example, have their own name for me: SID's short for what you might call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome..
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.
‘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.
r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...
December 13, 1977, Evansville Aces players, coaches, supporters and flight crew boarded a chartered DC-3 plane to travel to Murfreesboro for a game against Middle Tennessee. Just one minute after taking off, at 7:22 p.m. crashed, tragically taking the lives of everyone onboard. The only member of the Purple Aces who did not die in the crash was 18-year-old freshman David Furr; he was out for the season with some infirmary and thus was not on the plane that day. Lucky break? Well… Davis Lee Furr, weeks after the plane crash, and his younger brother Byron were killed in a car accident near Newton, Illinois, leaving the entire 1977 Evansville team dead.
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago daneylion I was told that I was getting too old to be a pilot and that this would be my last flight before retirement. I’m going to make sure for everyone on board that it’s their last flight too.
ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵂᵉⁱʳᵈ⁻ᴺᵉᵖʰᵉʷ “ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡᵉʳ?” ʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ “ʸᵉᵃʰ‧‧‧” ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʷᵒ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᴱᵃʳᵗʰ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ʷᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧
"Tʜᴇ sᴘɪᴅᴇʀs ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘʀᴇʏ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ɪɴ sɪʟᴋ. Tʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ's ᴍᴜғғʟᴇᴅ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍs ɢʀᴇᴡ ғᴀɪɴᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ɴᴇᴡ ʟᴀʏᴇʀ." —ᴘᴀʀᴛ_ᴛɪᴍᴇ_ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ
As I played in the basement, Mother called me upstairs. From behind me, She whispered, ‘Don’t go up there.’ — CheckeredBag
r/TwoSentenceHorror 8 mo. ago homestarmy_recruiter "Turn back," I begged my friend as he drove, sirens wailing in the background. He seemed desperate not to, at first, but after I got one of his earplugs out, he agreed that their voices were too beautiful to ignore.
A White Lie I'm the last one here. Those things have killed everyone else. Those things with the huge wings, with the beady eyes, with the sharp claws....every time I close my eyes see my coworkers being ripped apart. A few of us made it to the building here, but even here we aren't safe. I watched them get picked off one by one, screaming as they fought against death. I tried to stop it I swear I did I tried... Now I'm running through the building to the main power center. With no one else to ask, I'm tasked with pressing one of these buttons. Either will press the red button, or the green button. Supposedly, one button will turn the power doors back on, protecting us from whatever that shrieking, hungry, and angry...thing is outside. That's the red button. The other button is green and opens the opposite side power door, and I can only imagine what might be out there. Why had I agreed to come and research in this lab? I think as I run, hearing the screeches behind me. Oh .... Why did I lie on my application? Why didn't I admit I was color blind?
I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.
Not only have we implanted a lifetime of human memories into this rat but we can now monitor what it's thinking. It appears to think it's reading the second line of a two sentence story on-line right now..
Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

The Vanishing Hitch-Hiker Author: Jan Harold Brunvand This next eerie story is about a man driving home late in the night when he spots a girl asking for a hitchhike. The pretty girl is dressed in a beautiful white dress. The man offers her a ride and they strike up an interesting conversation. He drops the girl at her home. Next day, while driving for work he notices that the girl by accident has forgotten her sweater in his car. He drives towards her home to hand over the sweater. An old lady opens the door when he rings the bell. He narrates the incident which occurred last night and gives the sweater to the lady. The lady refuses to accept it, saying he is mistaken. The man is surprised and questions the lady again. He is dumbstruck and left in an unsettling situation when the lady says her daughter died in a car accident a couple of years ago.
Gᴏᴛ ᴀ sɴᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ sᴛᴏᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴇʟ ᴏғ ʜɪs ʙᴏᴏᴛ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ɪᴛ. Lᴀᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʜᴇ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ, ᴀs ʜɪs ʙᴇғᴜᴅᴅʟᴇᴅ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ Pᴀ. "Sᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Hᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ 'ᴇᴍ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ғᴀᴄᴛ. Wᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Wᴇʟʟ, I ʀᴇᴄᴋᴏɴ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Hᴇʀᴇ—" Mᴀ, ᴡɪᴘɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ, ʜᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪʀ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀs ᴀɴ ʜᴇɪʀʟᴏᴏᴍ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs sʜᴀᴅᴇ. Dʀᴇssɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ, ʜɪs ɴᴇᴡʟʏ ᴡɪᴅᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴜɢɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ sᴏɴ. "Bᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʀᴀɴᴅғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ. Tᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ..." Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴏʏ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ғᴀᴛᴇ. Hɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Lᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʟʏ, sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sɴᴀᴋᴇ, sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. Lᴏᴅɢᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍʙᴇᴅᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs.
ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."
avoid writing about- ~animals ~unnecessary detail ~certain groups -in such stories

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.
July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀ 🚩⠀ One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀ ⠀ Both brothers were 17 when they died.
🔵 The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 - - also on December 20. 🔵
aussircaex • ...a causal loop within the weapon's mechanism, suggesting that the firing process somehow binds space and time into…
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago netflixandskill my son was reported missing last week they found him but it's not my son
I thought telling the genie “I want to live forever” But the universe went dark 3 billion years ago by douggold11
The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.
"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago CalebVanPoneisen While tidying up my girlfriend’s apartment I found a purple diary labelled “Boyfriends Whom Dare to Look”. Unable to resist the temptation my heart raced, at the sight of names and dates marked with red but before I could fully process it's meaning, a voice be- hind me chuckled “It’s time to break up,” as a sharp object pierced my back.
“I woke up in a joyful mood and went to my mirror with a smile on my face; only, my reflection wasn’t smiling back at me.” -Aubrey Lichtfield
“I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I stood in- front of the mirror, there was no one staring back at me.” -Lucas Smelser
-August 19, 2017 What seeing red looks like. EVERYONE LOVES THE FIRST DAY OF A NEW JOB, RIGHT? NEW COLLEAGUES, NEW FRIENDS. IT’S A DAY FULL OF POTENTIAL AND HOPE, BEFORE ALL THE DREARY DEPRESSIONS OF REALITY SHOW UP TO RUIN ALL THE FUN. I LIKE THE FIRST DAY OF WORK FOR A DIFFERENT REASON THOUGH. YOU SEE, I HAVE A SORT OF POWER. WHEN I LOOK A COLORED OUTLINE BASED ON HOW LONG THAT PERSON HAS TO LIVE. MOST EVERYONE I MEET AROUND MY AGE IS SURROUNDED BY A SOLID GREEN HUE, WHICH MEANS THEY HAVE PLENTY OF TIME LEFT, LIVING TO OLD AGE. A FAIR AMOUNT OF THEM HAVE A PEACH TINGE TO THEIR AURA WHICH TENDS TO MEAN A CANCER OR DEPRESSION. ANYTHING THAT TAKES PEOPLE“BEFORE THEIR TIME” AS THEY SAY. THE REAL FUN IS WHEN THE AURAS VENTURE INTO THE RED END OF THE SPECTRUM, THOUGH. EVERY NOW AND AGAIN I’LL SEE SOMEONE WHO’S BASICALLY THROBBING FADE. IT’S SUCH A RUSH TO SEE THEM AND KNOW THEIR TIME IS NUMBERED. WITH THAT IN MIND, I ALWAYS GET TO WORK VERY EARLY SO I CAN SCOUT OUT MY COLLEAGUES’ FATES. THE FIRST MAN WHO WALKED IN WAS BASICALLY RADIATING RED. TOO BAD, BRO. BUT AS PEOPLE KEPT WALKING IN, THEY ALL HAD THE SAME RAPIDLY FADING COLOR. I FINALLY CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF MY OWN REFLECTION, SUDDENLY PLUMMETING TO A RED LIKE THE OTHERS. OUR BOSS STEPPED IN SMILING AND LOCKED THE DOOR, HIS AURA A SICKENING SHADE OF GREEN... ZENRYHAO
r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago drforged ↓ “Have you ever seen a monster?” My son asked, as I tucked him in “No” I answered, as I looked into his many yellow eyes...
Mother Warned Me Mother always warned me not to cross the street. Mother warned me about those types of things. She said bad men would kidnap me, take me away. I guess she was right, in a way. I crossed one day, because I was never a good child, and several men came out and picked me up and asked me many questions. I don’t know why she never wanted me to cross the street. All the men wore blue and had badges. I don’t know why they put silver bracelets on Mother. I don’t know why Mother attempted to bite one of them. I don’t know a lot of things, I suppose. And years later, I’ll never know why she made me call her Mother.
Rowlie from on BoredPanda.com ↓ ↓ It's freezing and dark, the constant movement is making me nauseous, everything hurts, I'm lonely and scared I wish I didnt' ask for my ashes to be spread into the ocean...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago mydadsnameisharold "Yes, the blood means you're a woman now." Too groggy to make sense of the pain between his legs, he managed to ask, "... what did you just do to me?"

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

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/TwoSentenceHorror 6 hr. ago AnonymousNeverKnown ↓ I chuckled to myself, changing the 'is" to "was" on celebrities' wikipedia pages when they weren't dead. Imagine my horror when I saw breaking news about a plane crash, killing those very celebrities.
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/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago kaoru-aeli They pointed at me, laughing and calling me "four-eyes". They weren't laughing after I decided to revealed 82 more.

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

✈ ▌▌ ¦҉▌▌ ▄ .

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

ᵗʰᵉʷʰⁱᵗᵉᶠᵃᵉ ᴼᵘʳ ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᴵˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ᵃ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ᵇᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉ? ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ⸴ ᵃ ᵈᵒᵒʳʷᵃʸ? ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʷᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵉˣⁱˢᵗ ᵒⁿ ᴱᵃʳᵗʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ⠘ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜⁱᵖᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᶜʸ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵘᵇᵐᵃʳⁱⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˢᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵒᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵘᵖ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵉⁿᵍᵘˡᶠᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ‧
‘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...
Avoid~ -profanity -animal loss -stereotyping -ignorance

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago HoardofAngryQuokkas It's happening again - I must wash away all this blood; silently, I creep out to the kitchen like I've been doing for the past three years, spending hours in the moonlight scrubbing out every speck of evidence. I know my dad and brothers think I'm some late bloomer, but I just don't want to freeze to death out in the menstrual hut like mum did.
Cavan Observer Published in Cavan, county Cavan September 4, 1858 AWFUL ACCIDENT.--On Sunday morning, a woman named Emily WYNDHAM, came by a most sudden and lamentable death in her residence, Bond-street. The poor woman had been standing on a stool, in her own kitchen, reaching for something on the top of a press, when the stool gave way from beneath her, and she fell on her head on a cradle beside where she had been standing, and, sad to say, broke her neck. She expired in a few minutes after the dreadful accident. The unfortunate woman was the wife of a labouring man, and has left six children, the youngest being three months old.--"Belfast News-Letter."
Personal Data: Surname: Wamack Given Name: Robert Death Date: Age: 3 Town: Publication Data: Source: Grand Prairie Hustler (newspaper) Section: Page: Death Notice Dates: First: Obituary Dates: First: 13 Apr 1906 Additional Information: Notes / Comments: Grand Prairie Hustler, April 13, 1906 Little Robert, the 3-year-old child of Mr. and Mrs. I. N. Wamack, died Monday night with lockjaw caused by stepping on glass. He lived only a few hours after the accident occurred. This death was untimely, which makes it hard for the sorrowing relatives and friends who had learned to love him and who was so young and healthful to be taken away so suddenly. The sorrowing ones have the sympathy of all.
A soldier called his parents from San Francisco. "Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home." "Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him." "There's something you should know" the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us." "I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live." "No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us." "Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own." At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identily the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.
My Sister's Sculpture My Mother told me about it when I was around 6 years old. She told me I wasn't an only child, I was one of two little girls. You see, she told me that when I was first born along with my twin sister, she died the evening she was born. She never told me why or how she died.or when they had the funeral for her. She told me about my Father going into a deep sense of mourning, and so to let us never forget my little sister my Father made a sculpture ofher. She was painted to every last detail. Her cute blue eyes to the little dimples in her cheeks. My Father would copy me as a reference since we were twins, and as I grew up I thought the sculpture was of me, but now that my Mother cleared this all up I felt more close to the sculpture than I did before. It wasn't long until I noticed that every year; on my birthday my Father would replace the sculpture and now the sculpture looked the same age as me, as if the sculpture would follow me as l aged. My Father continued to do this well into my teenage years, capturing her older and more mature features and the change in her face. On my 18th birthday I realised I could not sleep. I was wondering how my Father made the sculpture so detailed to me so late into the night. Perhaps he took a photo of me and paints it in every detail? I was curious. So I desided to creep my way downstairs to see if could catch my Father making the sculpture, and as l peeked my head around the kitchen door I felt all the colour of my face drain. There, on the Kitchen table my Father was injecting the “sculpture” with a liquid as he whispered "You will always be my little sculpture." as I watched the “sculpture's” hands twitch.
✨He had no way of knowing that the tip of one of the blender blades had come loose until he gulped down the last of his smoothie...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago LifeIsContrast I ̼ͨͪj̱͉umpé̞d̊̐ fro̞̜m̲̐ the ed̰ͫ̀ġͪe̩͐ and̝͍ͭ ͉̾̈́pl͖͓̂u͇ͩ̋n̏̔g̯ed͓͎ͦ͂ t̹̅̀o̹͇w̆ards thͤe d͎͛ͤe̬̰p͔̂t̻h̟̓ͫs̘̩͊̑.͓̰.̰ͭ͐.̑.̭ p͔̻̥̮̒͒l̗͙̦̩̪̪͙̯͐̂̚ĕ̻̝̳̣͈͖̞̎̿̊͊͋̈́͒̑a͚̣̹ͮ̌͆̇̾s̠̘̰͙̰̐͑̋e͇̰̳͓̥̊̂͌͐̍͑̂,͚̘̜̉ͯ̒ͤͬ ̖̭̲̟̥͍̹͎ͧ͒ͯ͒ͨ͗̉F̭͎̌̇͑ͣḬ̑̃ͥͥͧN̗̰̎̓͗D͓̠͎̂̿ͨ́̉͐ ̘̤̤̠̘̺̼͖̩̓̆͒̔ͭ̆ͯ̚M̲̫̙͙̏ͦ̀̑E̺̗͈̣̹ͯ́̚ ̬̤͎̪͔̤̤̯ͧ͌ͭ̌̿ͩA͎̗͉͕̯̲̤͓͒̌ͪN̫̥͎ͯ̈̎͌͊͒D̠̬̮͆ ̬͇̫̠ͩ͒K̞͕̙̮̫͇͎͉ͤ̈́̿͒ͧ̽̐ͤͅI͉̒͗ͥL͍̤͚͖͚̆ͯ̎̽̑L͓̣͎̗̾ͯ̈́̚ ̣͎̱̪̝͉̈́ͣ̂̓̆̂̋ͤͫM̙̙̼ͩ͗͋ͣͫE̮̔̌͑̊!̳̖͉̺̾ͅͅ
Tinder is completely useless, and I don't have a single match. If I don't find another way to start a campfire tonight, I'll freeze to death. (tumblr) 🖤
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?
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago Turds_Unlimited Ten armed men entered my home! Wait, there were two of them...
vicenarian (20–29) tricenarian (30–39) quadragenarian (40–49) semicentenarian (50) quinquagenarian (50–59) sexagenarian (60–69) septuagenarian (70–79) octogenarian (80–89) nonagenarian (90–99) ultracentenarian (100+) centenary semisupercentenarian (105–109) supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian centevicenarian ages 120-129 ↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓ sesquicentenarian (150–159) bicentenarian (200–299) multicentenarian (200+) tricentenarian (300–399) quadricentenarian (400–499) quincentenarian (500–599)
https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide Foeticide, of a fetus Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months Avunculicide, one's uncle Fratricide, one's brother Mariticide, one's husband or significant other Matricide, one's mother Nepoticide, one's nephew Parricide, of one's close relative Patricide, of one's father Sororicide, of one's sister Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend Nepticide, of one's niece Amiticide, of one's aunt Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide
..._...|..____________________, , ....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = D ...../_==o;;;;;;;;_______.:/ .....), ---.(_(__) / ....// (..) ), ----" ...//___// ..//___// .//___// ιf уσυ ωσυℓ∂ נυмρ ιи fяσит σf α вυℓℓєт fσя уσυя gιяℓfяιєи∂, вσуfяιєи∂, єχ-gιяℓfяιєи∂, єχ-вσуfяιєи∂, вєѕт fяιєи∂, fαмιℓу мємвєя, σя נυѕт α ρєяѕσи уσυ ℓσνє, яє ρσѕт тнιѕ σитσ уσυя ραgє!
ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ⁽ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴸᵃᵗᶤᶰ ᶜᶤᵇᵘˢ˒ ᵐᵉᵃᶰᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈˢ⁾ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶰ ᵃˢ ˢᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ⁽ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ˒ ˢᶤ̂ᵗᵒˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ/ᵒʳ ᵈʳᶤᶰᵏ ᴮʳᵃᶰᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵒᶠ ᶤᶰᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ᴾᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶻʸᵐᵃʳᶤᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᵍᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᶤᵖˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶠᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵃᶜᶜʰᵃʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡˡ ᶤᵗᵉᵐˢ # ᴬ ᴮ ᶜ ᴰ ᴱ ᶠ ᴳ ᴴ ᴵ ᴶ ᴷ ᴸ ᴹ ᴺ ᴼ ᴾ ᵠ ᴿ ˢ ᵀ ᵁ ᵛ ᵂ ᵡ ᵞ ᶻ ᴬ ᴬᵇᶻᶤᶜʰᵉᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶜᵉʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶜʳᶤˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡᵃᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡˡᶤᵘᵐᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡᵗʰᵃᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶰᵃᵖˢʸᵗᶤᵏᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵖᶤᵉᵐᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵖᶤᵒᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵠᵘᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵃᶜʰᶤᵇᵘᵗʸʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵃᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵒᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵘᵇᵉʳᵍᶤᶰᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮ ᴮᵃᵍᵉˡᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵃᶰᵃᶰᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵉᶤᵏᵒᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤᶠᵗᵉᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤˢᵏᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵒᵒᵇᵉʳᵒᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮʳᵒʷᶰᶤᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵘʳʳᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜ ᶜᵃᵉʳᵗᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶠᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᵏᵉᵈᵖᵃᶰˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃˡᵃᵐᵘˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶰᵈʸᶜᵃᶰᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶰᵈʸᶜᵒʳᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵉˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳʳᵒᵗᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᶤᶜˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᶤˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶜˣʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶤʳᶤᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶤʳᵒᵐᵉʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᵗᵈᵒᶰᵏᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰʸᵐᵒᵐᶤˡᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰʸᵐᵒᵖᵒʳᵗᵒᵏᵃˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᶠᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒˡᵃˡᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵒᶜᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵒʳᵖᵒʳᶤᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵉˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᵃᵖᵒˢᵃᶰᵈʷᶤᶜʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᶤˢᵖˡᵒʷᶠʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᵘˢᵗᵘᵐᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᶜᵘʳᵇᶤᵗᵃᶜᵉᵃᵉᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᶜᵘʳᵇᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᵖᶜᵃᵏᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰ ᴰᵉʰʸᵈˡᵉᵍʳᶤᵗʰˡʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᶤᵖˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᵒᵘᵇᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᵘˡᶜᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴱ ᴱᵍᵍᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵘˢᵐᵃˣᶤᵐᵘˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠ ᶠᵃʲᶤᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠᵃˢᵒˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠᶤˡˡᵉᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠˡᶤᵗᶻᵃᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵃᵍᵃʳᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵃᵒᵘˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵘᶜᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʸᵏᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠɤᵖᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳ ᴳᵃˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᵃʳᶤᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᶤᵃᵒᵘʳᵗᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᶤᶰᵍᵉʳᵇʳᵉᵃᵈᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳˡᵉᶤᶠᶤᵗᶻᵒᵘʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᵘˢᵗᵃᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴴ ᴴᵃˡᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴴᵃᵐᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴵ ᴵᶜʰᵗʰʸᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴵᵉᶰˢᶤᵐᵖᵉᵗʳᵒᵛᵉˢᵗʳᶤᵖᵃᵗᵉʳᵃᵈˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴶ ᴶᵉˡˡʸᵇᵉᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴶᵘᶰᵏᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷ ᴷᵃˡᵃᵐᵖᵒᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵉʳᵃˢᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵉᵗˢᵃᵖᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷʳᵉᵐᵃᵏᵃˡᵃᵐᵖᵒᵏᶤᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵘᵐᵠᵘᵃᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵘʳᵇᵉʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸ ᴸᵃᶜʰᵃᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵃᶜᵘᵗᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵉᵐᵒᶰᵃᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᶤᵖᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵠᵘᶤᵗᵘʳᶜᶤᵇᵘˢᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵘᵏᵃᶰᶤᵏᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵘᵏᵒᵘᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵃ̈ʳᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹ ᴹ&ᴹᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᶜᵃʳᵒᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᵍᵉᶤʳᵒᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᵍᶤᵒᶰᵉᶻᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃˡˡᶤᵗᶤᵍʳᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃˡᵘˢᵈᵒᵐᵉˢᵗᶤᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᶜᴰᵒᶰᵃˡᵈᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᶜᴰᵒᶰᵃˡᵈˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵍᵃᵇʳᵘᶤˢᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵗʰʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒˢᶜʰᵒˡᵉᵐᵒᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒᵘˢᵗᵃʳᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵘᶠᶠᶤᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸʳᵗᶤˡᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴺ ᴺᵃᵇᶤˢᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴺᵃᶜʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼ ᴼᵃᵗᵐᵉᵃˡ⁻ᴳᵘʸᴾʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵉᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼʳᵉᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼˢᵒˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵒᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵛᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵛᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾ ᴾᵃᵍᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃˡᵐᵃʳᶤᵃ ᴾᵃˡᵐᵃᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᵗᵃᵗᵃᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵐᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳˡᵘᶜᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒʷᶤᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᶤᶻᶻᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵒᵖᶜᵒʳᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵒᵖˢᶤᶜˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾˢᵒᵐᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵠ ᵠᵘᵉˢᵃᵈᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴿ ᴿᶤᵍᵃᵗᵒᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴿʸᶻᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢ ˢᵃᶜᶜʰᵃʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵃᵍᶤᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᴬᵁˢᴬᴳᴱᴬᴴᵡᴾᴴᴼᴮᴵᴬ ˢᶜʰᶰᵉˢˢᵉᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᶤᶰᵃᵖᶤᵛᶤʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᶤᵗᵃʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵏᶤᵗᵗˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵐᵉᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵖᵃᵍʰᵉᵗᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵖˡᵉˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵇᵘᶜᵏˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀ ᵀᵃᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵍᵃᶰᶤᵗᵉᵖᵃᵗᵃᵗᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵍᵃᶰᵒᵖˢᵒᵐᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵐᵐᶤᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵒʳᵗᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵘᵇᵉʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵁ ᵛ ᵛᵃᶠˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵃᶰᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵃᵗᵒᵐᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᶤᵛᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵈᶤᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵘᵗᶤᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵘᵗʸʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵡ ᵡᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵞ ᵞʳᵒᵘˣᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵞᵁᴹᴹᵁᴷᴿᴵˢᴾᴱᴴᴷᴿᴱᴹᴹᴱᴾᴴᴼᴮᴵᴬ ᶻ ᶻʸᵐᵃʳᶤᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶻʸᵗʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ
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.
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.
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.
‘Next Time You’ll Know Better’ by IPostAtMidnight Have you ever walked into a room, and found a vampire? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your neck? Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories? Well, have you? Perhaps not. But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room, and suddenly forgotten why you came in?
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.
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..
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.”
r/shortscarystories 5 days ago DottedWriter My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees "Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me. I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me. She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me. She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end. I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies. She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me. So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool . I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me. I had enough of it. I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart. It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out. I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .
The Lights When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions), I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep; I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory I came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howls. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one I had killed, had been my protection.
Mothers Illness My mother had fallen ill. She had what my dad did, at least thats what it looked like Everyone cried. I asked if we could take her to the doctor, but we cant afford it My older sister took time off college to take care of her, but we knew how it would end Mother would die like father did Two months later she did After the funeral the cops started to snooping around They questioned me first; they wanted to know what l knew: They threatened me, saying I could be charged as an adult because I was almost seventeen. I cried and said I loved my parents They took my finger prints and let me go. My sister was next They never let her go. They said she poisoned my parents for the life insurance policy she took out on them. My three younger siblings and i couldnt believe it My sister never admitted to the crime, but everyone said she was guilty. That is what it looked like. • The hardest part of it all was getting my sisters figure prints on the poison. Faking her identity to take out the insurance policies was easy Soon Id be going to a new home, with new parents. Its time to start planning my next game.
WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.
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."
‘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.
Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015
Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM Mom <Your great aunt just passed away. LOL Why is that funny?> <It's not funny! Wht do you mean? Mom lol means laughing out loud!> <Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.
i turned to the guy who k1lled my wife ✨ He cried so desperately, scared for what was to come. If only he had talked to me and tried to reason, maybe I could have spared him. But that was impossible. After all, he was born just a few moments ago...
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