The Nightmare Inducement Thread

[Aevolve]

I've seen something similar to this on other forums, but after a search I was surprised to find that no threads have really been created for the specific purpose of scaring the shit out of everybody.

Simply post the creepiest stuff you can find, whether it be videos, stories, pics, etc. Just keep it work-safe or include a NSFW disclaimer.

For starters:
Thanks to Randy, I know about this. (I hate you Randy.)


Here's a good one from a series:

[highlordmugfug]

There have been a couple threads like this actually, but I love them just the same.

[BornToLooze]

I was thinking about making one of these...but here's a story I wrote

Originally Posted by BornToLooze

This is something that happened in my dream last night, but I forgot a big part in the middle before I got a chance to write it down. This is also the first thing I've ever written.

TAPES

I've been feeling off recently. Do you ever have one of those time where you wake up not knowing where or who you are? Or why your covered in blood? Well its been happening to me recently. I don't remember when it started happening, but I don't know how much longer I can take this. Waking up out in the woods coverered in blood, not knowing how I got there, or what happened the night before.
I know what you are probably all thinking, and I thought it too, but there's no such thing as werewolves right? Just something from movies and stories right? Well recently my girlfreind decided I should record myself while I was sleeping to see what was happening. All I could think was, "Yeah right, like all of those movies they've been making?" But she persisted so I figured what the hell.
Nothing was happening so I figured why bother watching the tapes. Oh how I wish I would have. It had been months since something had happened. Every now and then when we woke up the camera would be knocked over, but that was it. I figured that I might be getting up to pee or get a snack or something. Oh how I wish I would have watched the tapes.
Then one morning I woke up in the woods again covered in blood, When I finally got home there where police everywhere. After a couple hours they all left. When I asked my girlfriend what was wrong she told me she heard screaming in the night, but the door was stuck shut and I was gone. When she finally got the door open all she could do was cry. Our daughter's crib was covered in blood and the door was ripped off the hinges. It was then that she thought of the camera. She never got the
chance to tell me what she saw, it was too late. I could feel somethine happening, like muscles ripping and I just stopped thinking and my ears started ringing as i head my girlfriend scream.
I don't know how long i was out, but when I woke up I was still at home. When I saw what was infront of me I couldn't help but throw up. It was then that I heard the sirens coming. I don't know what was happening to me, I just knew it couldn't happen again. The sirens are getting closer. I go into the bed room to look for it, but it looks like a bomb when off in there. The sirens are right outside. I found it, but I can feel it happening again. "POLICE, PUT THE GUN DOWN!!!"
You know, in books and movies right before the main character dies they always say something about how there life flashes before their eyes, thinking of all the good things that happened to them. But I can tell you that's all bullshit. All that happen was I could feel was pain, all I could thik was I should have watched those damn tapes, then I could have done something sooner. At least it will make a good found footage movie like Paranormal Activity or that one in Russia.
"POLICE, PUT THE GODDAMN GUN DOWN NOW!!!" So that's what happens, you can't quit babbling. "PUT THE GODDA----" then there was nothing....


I just wish I could remember the part in the middle, because that's when it got really good. But just so you know, I'm not turning into a werewolf because you know what...**** werewolves

[Aevolve]

Originally Posted by highlordmugfug

There have been a couple threads like this actually, but I love them just the same.

Nothing I could find in search

Hmm, maybe they can merge them.

[highlordmugfug]

I'm not complaining

They're all old, and the in-site search sucks, like I said, I love it when they pop up again. Kudos to you.

[Explorer]

I highly recommend the book House of Leaves.

I occasionally relate the tale of the first short film of the Navidson Record as something I saw on YouTube. Women freak out,especially

as the windows, wall and door of the 5 1/2 Minute Hallway seem so commonplace... and then not.

I'll admit that I stopped reading this book after the first chapter or two, purely out of fear. I hadn't experience that in a book in a long time, and I had to take the book in over a period of time, restarting from the beginning every time I put it down for a month or so and reading past my last stopping point.

The huge lesson I learned from this book is that the commonplace, with just one detail askew, can be frightening. The fact that

the house was just an inch larger inside than outside

is inexplicable. If this is presented in a matter-of-fact way, the wrongness of it can scare people. I now incorporate this principle when I decide to spin tales at parties and get-togethers.

And, bonus! I recently scared the crap out of my new employee by just relating the previous two items to her. She sees the same wrongness which made me put the book down again and again in fear.

Great book.

[Explorer]

Oh, one more item:

There is a brilliant country (alt-country?) album called "The Mysterious Tale of How I Shouted "Wrong-Eyed Jesus!" by the Reverend Jim White." If the congregation thrilled to the miracle story, who am I to say no?

The CD booklet has 14 of its pages devoted to the tale itself.

"There is but one Jesus, and I must defend the small comfort I take in knowing that His eyes will be forever Wrong. Long live Wrong-Eyed Jesus."

I highly recommend finding this gem. The story, combined with the mood of the CD, are an amazing combination.

[AxeHappy]

I dunno about anybody else, but I find this:



pretty ....ed up.

[MFB]

Explorer, I'm 50/50 with you on House of Leaves, with part of stopping it being fear and the other half was boredom

[Demiurge]

Originally Posted by MFB

Explorer, I'm 50/50 with you on House of Leaves, with part of stopping it being fear and the other half was boredom

I can see that. In all, I really liked the book, but the Johnny Truant character annoyed the bejeezus out of me- as unusual as the rest of the book was, he was just kind of a typecast-y ne'er-do-well/....up out of a pulp novel... then again, with the main literary trick being the multiple layering of narratives through different mediums, that may have been the intention.

Credit due, though. My first couple hours reading it, I was sitting outside at a swimming pool on a gorgeous day... and I was still jumpy and creeped-out.

[Aevolve]

Bumping for some content if anyone's willing to share- I'm bored at the moment.

[JosephAOI]

Creepypastas anyone?

The Russian Sleep Experiment - Creepypasta Wiki

Observe and Absolve - Creepypasta Wiki

Also, there's some creepy stuff in this thread:

Some strange things in our world...

[Aevolve]

Originally Posted by JosephAOI

Creepypastas anyone?

The Russian Sleep Experiment - Creepypasta Wiki

Observe and Absolve - Creepypasta Wiki

Also, there's some creepy stuff in this thread:

Some strange things in our world...

I've been looking at the SCP stuff for a while, I find it more entertaining than unsettling, but yeah there's a few creepy things. Mainly just reaaallyy creative writing. I was impressed.

I'll check up on the creepypastas, I've just read a lot of them before.

[BornToLooze]

The Stillwood King

In 1806, settler Elijah Brown became lost for two days in what would later be named the Stillwood Forest, a deceptively-small wooded area southwest of Ichor Falls proper. When he returned to the town, Brown was gaunt, dehydrated and starving to the point of near death, and insisted that he was lost not for two days but nine. He also had carefully kept journal entries with the rise and set of the sun, and indeed he had made nine of them. Exhaustion and confusion clearly played a factor in augmenting Brown’s story — and of course, after a hard winter, there’s no record of how dehydrated and starved Brown may have been before getting lost.

Later expeditions into the Stillwood showed that the forest floor is incredibly thick with vegetation, with tall, rail-thin trees making most passage exceedingly difficult. Add to this three similarly-curving creeks and streams flowing off the Erytheia, the natural sound-dampening of the trees, and foliage sometimes so thick that it blocks the sky, and you have a recipe for losing one’s way quite easily.

However, the Stillwood still carries the stigma of being invisibly endless. The legend of the Stillwood King started, interestingly enough, almost immediately after Brown’s return.

Contrary to popular belief, it was not Brown’s story that evolved him into the spooky figure of legend as time passed, but his experience probably did inspire it. Historians believe either teachers at a schoolhouse bordering the Stillwood, or parents of the attending children, cooked up the legend to keep kids from wandering into the dangerous woods and getting lost.

The legend says that Brown was not the first person to get lost in the Stillwood, but another man entered its wooded labyrinth hundreds of years before. Time doesn’t work in the Stillwood the same way it does outside of it, and the longer you’re trapped, the longer it seems, even if you’ve only been gone a few days in the real world.

That first victim became a permanent part of the Stillwood. He never found his way back home and should have starved to death, but the Stillwood wouldn’t let its King die — so it slowed his heart to a crawl along with the rest of him. They say it beats once per day, and that he can’t move more than a foot in an hour.

When he’s alone, that is.

His clothes are ragged and torn, and he looks more like a bone-white cadaver than a man. He screams and cries for help, but no one outside can hear him, and over the centuries, his screams have become silent. And as he stalks among the dead leaves in exhaustion, praying for death to come, the Stillwood becomes a little more a part of him. His blood is creek-water and moss, and his skin is the color of mushroom caps.

They say if you ever find yourself in the Stillwood, you have to be careful where you look. You see, the fact that no one sees him is what disconnected the Stillwood King from the normal passage of time. He is as slow and silent as the Stillwood itself — that is, until your eyes fall upon him.

You may catch a sliver of white through a stand of trees, thinking it to be a crop of mushrooms growing up the side of an old oak. But if it’s the King, you’ll see that white shape spin around instantly, revealing two sunken black eyes and a saw-edged mouth locked in a scream. Now you will hear him.

And now, now he will be quick, and loud, and all the things he can’t be when no one else is there. He has been waiting for this for a long time, and while you are looking at him, he’ll move with all the pent-up time the Stillwood has stolen from him, has saved for him, and he will be upon you almost faster than you can blink.

Almost, the legend says. So if you see what looks like a crop of mushrooms as tall as a man in the distance, don’t stop to think, don’t run, do nothing except shut your eyes. The Stillwood King already knows you’re there, and the forest is no obstacle to him when he’s fast. He may now be only inches from you — but if you’ve shut your eyes in time, that’s where he’ll stay. Turn completely around, with your eyes still shut tight, and pray that he wasn’t fast enough to run behind you in that blink.

Now. Feel your way through the forest, around the thin, close, brittle trees, and over the dead leaves, which will seem oddly quiet. In case he has positioned himself for you to come to him, change direction just once. Don’t open your eyes until you’ve gone at least the same distance as the King was from you, when you first saw him.

With luck, you’ll leave him trapped again, his heart beating once a day, his movement only a foot an hour.

But if, with your eyes shut, you slowly press against a wet, shambling thing that smells like moss and creek-water, and feels like mushroom caps, open your eyes.

So it will be quick.

[BornToLooze]

The Cedar Cove Incident

The rumours, speculation and conspiracy theories surrounding the so-called Cedar Cove Incident of August 2009 are so varied, so wildly divergent and contradictory that one despairs of ever uncovering the truth of what happened. I have undertaken here to lay down and weave into a coherent whole only the established, verifiable facts, and let the reader draw his or her own conclusions. I will be the first to point out the many seemingly irrational choices made by the people involved, and the narrative gaps left where we cannot say with certainty how events unfolded. To these I say, we must wait for further information, but until that happens: Caveat lector. I’m sure even the most skeptical reader will agree that the following is the most parsimonious telling that accounts for all the known facts.

At some point between the 11th and the 14th of August, 2009, the power grid in Cedar Cove failed, and all contact between the hamlet and the outside world was lost. The exact cause of this failure has yet to be determined, but the power grid in that area is notoriously unreliable when compared to the national average. In addition to the power failure, the days preceding the incident were marked by another thus far unexplained phenomenon: a thick, tenacious mist enveloping the town. According to interviews of West Virginia residents and meteorological data, Cedar Cove was normally a relatively sunny town with a brisk noonday breeze that should have swept the area clear of any mist. The middle of August, however, was characterized by unseasonably cold, overcast days, with a slow but persistent southwesterly wind.

The power failure could not have occurred before the 11th, if one Alicia Wilson of neighboring Point Pleasant is to be believed. As far as anyone knows, she was the first person outside Cedar Cove to notice anything amiss, because on that day she says she couldn’t reach her sister, whom she called every friday. She phoned the sheriff’s office to complain to her husband, sheriff Graham Wilson, who then tried to contact the Cedar Cove Arms, an establishment that in such a small community often doubled as the de facto town hall. When even they could not be reached, the sheriff decided to investigate the situation himself. Nobody thought much of the town’s silence at first, so he only brought one deputy with him. It had been a slow night in Point Pleasant, and deputy Andretti would later tell investigators that the sheriff himself admitted before departing that he was only making the trip to break the tedium, and anticipating his wife fretting over her sister later that night.

Upon arriving at Cedar Cove, Sheriff Wilson called in according to protocol, saying that he and deputy Foreman were heading for the guesthouse. They reported that as expected, the streetlights were out and all the windows dark. Since the sky was overcast that night, the streets were already dark and they didn’t think it unusual to find the town quiet and the streets empty. By the time they reached the guesthouse, however, they had yet to spot a single citizen in Cedar Cove. They would’ve expected to notice at least one flashlight in a window, one dog barking to announce unexpected visitors.

Some minutes later, deputy Foreman called in to report that the Cedar Cove Arms was empty, cash register and manager’s office closed and locked. The building had an emergency generator in the basement in case of a blackout, but it wasn’t running. The two visited several of the houses around the guesthouse, but all doors were locked and nobody came to answer their calls. When a fifteen minute search of nearby houses failed to uncover any of the locals, they used the loudspeaker mounted on the patrol car to request that anybody within hearing range show themselves or give some indication as to their location, but again, no reply. With deputy Foreman as witness, sheriff Wilson decided that the situation in Cedar Cove appeared to be an emergency and assumed authority to forcibly enter one of the apartments without a written warrant.

Since they didn’t have a battering ram in the patrol car, deputy Foreman was forced to shoot out the front door lock after several verbal warnings to stand clear of the door. The gunshots provoked no response from the residents, and the two proceeded with a systematic search of the house, where deputy Foreman reported spotting someone – or something – in the basement. He cried out in alarm and backed away, ushering sheriff Wilson up the steps and out of the house. Foreman screamed at Wilson to enter the patrol car and drive away from the city as fast as possible, claiming that some unknown disease had overtaken whoever or whatever he had seen in the basement; he was uncommitted as to whether it was a man or some animal. According to Wilson, Foreman appeared to be hysterical and in at least a mild state of shock When Wilson suggested that Foreman remain in the car while he had another look in the basement, Foreman screamed at him to remain and to stay away from the basement, saying that the ‘the thing’ was possibly contagious and definitely dangerous. Since Foreman would not be calmed, and the situation in Cedar Cove was obviously more than two men could deal with, sheriff Wilson decided to return to the Point Pleasant sheriff’s station.

Upon returning, sheriff Wilson didn’t see fit to contact federal authorities before making sure just what it was that deputy Foreman had seen. The following is a transcription of his interview, recorded by consent:

Wilson: ‘All right, son, just take it slowly, from the beginning. You entered the basement, searching the area with your flashlight…?’

Foreman: ‘[shuddering sound] It was in the corner, behind the boiler tank. It was looking at me.”

W: ‘What was it? What was looking at you?’

F: ‘It was a monster. I said before that it might’ve been an animal, but I – [chokes off, sobs]‘

W: ‘Take your time. Just relax… You said it might’ve been an animal, but?’

F: ‘… but now I think about it, I only said that because I didn’t want to think a man could look like that! Oh jesus, the look on it’s face – [sobs] and the mouth!’

W: ‘So you spotted a man behind the boiler, and he saw you. You said he had some kind of disease? Why did you think that?’

F: ‘It wasn’t normal! The look in it’s eyes, they were staring at me the second I turned the light to it, no, before that! It couldn’t have seen me in the dark, with that light shining right at it, but it was already staring at me when I saw it! [whispers hoarsely] And it’s face!’

W: ‘What about his face? Was there something unusual about it? Some markings?’

F:’ [inaudible]

W: ‘What’s that? Speak up, son..’

F: ‘[whispering] It was upside down.’

W: ‘His face was upside down?’

F: ‘[still whispering] It was all there, eyes, nose, mouth and everything, but it was wrong. The eyes caught me first, but above those… the mouth. It was grinning, so wide it was impossible, and it was upside down! The mouth was streched so wide you could see every ****ing tooth in its mouth, [crying now] and I swear it was grinning at me, like it knew we were coming and it was just WAITING for us, and it -’

W: ‘Calm down, calm down! Easy. Just take a deep breath.’

F: ‘[whispers again] Not human. Not an animal but not human either.

W: [starts to speak but is interrupted]

F: ‘I figured something got to the people there, something that changed them – like you see in the movies, right? It used to be human, but now it’s something less, something wrong, and I bet the same thing happened to the whole town, that’s why it was so quiet! I know it sounds crazy but you didn’t see it, didn’t see those eyes, the way it looked at me, the way it was-’

W: ‘All right, son, that’s enough. It’s okay now, we don’t have to talk about this anymore-’

[Recording ends]

[BornToLooze]

continued

How a copy of the recording came to be found is disputed, but its provenance is beyond question: relatives of both Wilson and Foreman have confirmed that the voices heard on the tape are indeed theirs.

Sheriff Wilson contacted the governor’s office, reporting that some, if not most of the people in Cedar Cove had disappeared, and mentioned the possibility of an unknown infection. Mayor Green wasn’t known to be a man of half measures and so, later that night, sheriff Wilson, accompanied by deputies Coolidge, Stuart and King, rendezvoused with CDC staff at a point some five miles outside Cedar Cove. The plan was to conduct another search of the apartment visited earlier by Wilson and Foreman in order to determine the condition of its inhabitants. The leading CDC investigator, doctor Hartman, would then determine if a quarantine needed to be instituted, in which case more CDC men would be brought in, aided by the national guard if necessary. In the interests of medical history and proper analysis, doctor Hartman suggested that the investigation be videotaped; his recording from
that night is the single most important document pertaining to this incident. Transcript follows:

The recording begins at the outskirts of town, as the team is just entering Cedar Cove proper. The viewpoint is from the front passenger seat of the CDC van, and one of the patrol cars can be seen leading the convoy, its emergency lights flashing. The town is completely silent, as before. The door to the apartment is ajar, as Wilson left it, suggesting that whoever deputy Foreman claims to have seen in the basement hadn’t ventured out from his hiding place. Research assistant Walker was the first to enter, followed by Hartman, who was still holding the camera. The recording shows Walker descending the basement stairs, calling out to the inhabitant to show himself.

Walker stops at the foot of the stairs and points his flashlight at some point not visible from the top of the stairs. His voice is too low to be intelligible, but he appears to have spotted the inhabitant encountered earlier and is coaxing him to come out. Wilson crouches slightly, extending his hand in invitation, then gasps and freezes. Panicking, he drops his flashlight, sending it rolling around the floor. The scene is momentarily cast into darkness while the rolling flashlight points away from Walker, but the muffled screams of at least two men can be heard on the recording. Doctor Hartman tries to back up the stairs, camera wavering but still pointing towards the basement, when the flashlight completes its circuit and casts its light on the scene below.

In the meager second captured on film, we see what appears to be a naked man attacking Walker. Both the attacker and Walker are covered in blood, and the latter is lying on his back and screaming, bleeding badly, trying to push off his assailant. At this point, doctor Hartman panics and turns around, jostling the others behind him in his haste to escape the apartment. Hartman is the last one out of the door, and he slams it shut, apparently not noticing that it won’t stay completely closed, the locking mechanism having been shot out. The camera, strapped to his hand but apparently forgotten for now, is still recording as he argues with the others, bobbing and jumping
crazily as he gesticulates with his arms to lend weight to his words. Sheriff Wilson is furious, demanding to know what is happening inside and trying to get past Hartman, while shrieks and thumps can still be heard from inside the apartment. Hartman seems to have collected himself somewhat and is arguing forcefully for sealing off the house, and indeed the whole town, whose inhabitants have apparently contracted something similar to rabies. The sheriff is indignant, pointing out that even laymen know rabies isn’t an airborne disease, but Hartman, backed up by his assistants, remains adamant, citing his superior authority. Wilson threatens to shoot Hartman if he won’t let him by, but their argument is interrupted by deputy King’s scream.
Hartman reflexively whips up the camera in the direction the he is pointing.

The town is stirring. The floodlights mounted on the CDC van reveal doors opening silently all down the street from the guesthouse. The inhabitants of Cedar Cove are slowly coming out, approaching the outsiders. Their shape is immediately recognizable as human, but their bodies are contorted hideously, spines arching backwards until their heads are almost level with the ground. They pad noiselessly on all fours, with elbows leading, their shoulders bent at an impossible angle. Each one is naked, and stark bruising can be seen where the joints must have snapped to allow the unnatural posture. Hartman pans the camera to capture every door, and from each one the inhabitants are pouring out in a silent stream, hovering at the edge of the light. Each face carries the same perverse, upside down grin, and all eyes, wide open, stare unblinking at the men.

Deputy King can be seen in front of Hartman and to the left, shouting and discharging his sidearm at the inhabitants directly across the street. One of them twitches and flops down, briefly resembling a man lying spread eagled on his back, then curls his limbs close to his torso– back in their natural direction – to make a horrible mockery of a dead cockroach lying on its back. At no point does the grin falter or the eyes blink. The other inhabitants seem somehow emboldened by this move, as they no longer circle the lit area like sharks but begin to slowly advance, moving jerkily, a few quick steps at a time. Hartman shouts at everyone to get to the van as quickly as possible,
and they all break into a mad dash for safety. As Hartman’s voice rings out, the inhabitants charge en masse, loosing screams that still sound very human as they bound and leap towards the men.

Someone screams outside the camera’s view, but Hartman never slows down, never turns his course or the camera away from the van. King is the first one to reach the doors, and he can be seen whipping open the sliding door before opening the front passenger side door for himself. Hartman climbs into the back, panting and videotaping the others as they pile inside. Deputy Coolidge manhandles a bleeding Wilson inside before joining them and slamming the door shut. Just then, the view
jerks around wildly and settles into a sideways position on the floor, but the men can be seen holding on, trying to remain seated, as King jerks the van around to escape the city. The screaming of the wheels can just barely be discerned under the screaming and thuds ringing through the van before they are clear of the herd, accelerating away from the Cedar Cove Arms.

[recording ends]

The recording appeared on the internet at some point in September 2009, and was circulated on a handful of websites for some time thereafter. If it is authentic, one can be certain that federal authorities would want to keep it a secret from the public, and the video was leaked by one of a presumably limited number of people with proper clearance to view it. Be that as it may, the video was largely dismissed by those who have seen it as a hoax, being either a publicity stunt by some group of CGI-artists, a trailer for a horror movie yet to appear, or part of a so called Alternate Reality Game (ARG).

Beyond this, the rumours and reports are so divergent, and of such questionable authenticity, that I balk at venturing any further. In any case, the version of events presented here – which I know to be credible, having personally verified all source material used – describes a matter I’d just as soon forget. To anyone willing to sift through the mounds of unverifiable anecdotes and paranoid rants, the practical jokes and blatant lies, the unbelievable reports and delirious eyewitness accounts, I wish you the best of luck… you’re a braver man than I. As a final item of interest, I’ve transcribed a newspaper article that arrived in my mailbox earlier this week, from an unknown sender.

West Virginia Observer, October 21st, 2009
Mysterious disease sweeps over local town

Inhabitants of Mason County were shocked early this autumn when the National Guard, at the behest of the Center for Disease Control (CDC) and Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) cordoned off the sleepy town of Cedar Cove, barring the towns few regular visitors and casual tourists entry. The real shock, however, arrived scant weeks later, when a convoy of dozens of trucks rumbled its way out of West Virginia, and federal emergency workers razed the whole town.

According to the official CDC statement, the entire population of Cedar Cove (317 people according to a census taken in January, 2009) had been exposed to a mutant strain of the West Nile virus. Emergency workers were too late to save all of those afflicted by the highly contagious, rapidly progressing disease, but they were, thankfully, succesful in containing the outbreak. Doctor Steinberg, who issued the statement, commented that we might take some cold comfort from the fact that this disease essentially annihilated itself, killing most of its carriers too quickly to spread effectively. However, torching the town was seen as a necessary precaution, as the mutant virus might have remained dormant in porous surfaces exposed to infected bodily fluids. The surviving inhabitants were transported to an undisclosed location to be properly quarantined.

[highlordmugfug]

Rep for posting Cedar Cove.

[Aevolve]

Loved the Cedar Grove story. Repped.

[BornToLooze]

Up

Do you know what a Cordyceps is? I didn’t either until 20 minutes ago. It’s a family of thousands of different types of fungus, grows all around the word in various rainforests and jungles. The awful thing about them is they’re parasitic, they grow on other animals. An ant happens to run into some spores, and then it starts to colonize his insides, starting with his brain. At some point, the ant starts to act visibly ill; standing in place and shivering, or walking in circles. If a fellow colony member sees him in this condition, he will be dragged to the border of the colony and exiled.

Then, when it’s almost over, the ant weakly climbs as high as he can up the vines, and locks his body on tight. Finally, he dies, and the fungus emerges from the back of his head, bursting forth like a long and foul fruit. After a short time, the little stalk spews forth its own spores, leaving the mummified and broken ant clinging to the stalk, his eye cavities filled with drying fungus.

I mention this because last night, when I was up on the roof of my apartment complex, I found my brother’s body. He’s been back from 18 months on duty in the Philippines for less than three days. This was the first I’d seen him. My parents called me up the day before yesterday to tell me that he was on his way up. They told me he’d stayed in his room since he got home, and then suddenly got up and announced he was on his way to see me. They thought he was drunk, I’d I thought he’d never made it.

He must have come straight up to the roof and died, by the smell of it. I was just finishing a cigarette, all torn up with anxiety and head throbbing, and when the acrid smoke vanished I caught a whiff of rot on the hot wind. It took me just a few minutes before I’d found him; face down behind the vents and fans. A slimy gray column rose up obscenely from the base of his skull, and a frozen waterfall of roots and tendrils was dangling from his eye sockets and mouth. At the top of stalk was small arrangement of feathery wisps, a white powder drifting idly from it tips.

The spores must have drifting over the north side of the building all day. My side of the building. I came down to my apartment to try to call up the police, and my headache was rising to a feverish throb. I got through the door, and the moment I reached for the phone, pain flared in my head, so bad I almost passed out. I’ve since tried three times and I can never get my hand up on it.

The same thing happens when I try to get up and leave the room; I feel spines of ice tunneling up into my skull and my limbs lock up and shudder.

The ants, in their last moments crawl as high up the vines as he can climb. This is so the spore will spread over more of the colony below. In the end, the parasite controls the ant with an almost intelligent drive. God help me.

The pain is almost blinding now, and a new thought has been rising up rhythmically in my head, like a record skipping. Up. Up. Up. It’s joined by an image of my office tower. It’s taller than my apartment, the tallest place I can think off and although the bulge on the back of my neck is the size of a peach, the skin stretched shiny, and I’m dizzy and my eyes are cloudy, I think I can make it there. Up.

No. I’m sick. I need help.

The building pulses again in my mind. The cold wind. The roof and the sky. These images and concepts dull the pain momentarily as they pass through my mind. I think I can get there. Up. Up.

If you live in downtown Chicago, I would get the **** out.

[Aevolve]

^ Already read it, but awesome nevertheless.

[BucketheadRules]

I post this in every single thread like this, but seriously, it's ....ing scary. Don't listen to it late at night.

I'm just gonna leave this here:



It's the sound of mental illness (paranoid schizophrenia I think), severe depression and a .... of a lot of prescription drugs. Genuinely very, very unsettling. I've never managed it all the way through, only takes a couple of minutes before I'm too depressed and freaked-out to continue.

[vampiregenocide]

[wayward]

^ Rep'd for MrMorgansOrgans. I absolutely love that man's work.


Edit: Oh yeah, and as my contribution to the last Creepy thread, check out the 50+ Marble Hornets videos on YouTube. Great story.

Introduction - YouTube

Entry #26 - YouTube

[JeffFromMtl]

Originally Posted by Demiurge

I can see that. In all, I really liked the book, but the Johnny Truant character annoyed the bejeezus out of me- as unusual as the rest of the book was, he was just kind of a typecast-y ne'er-do-well/....up out of a pulp novel... then again, with the main literary trick being the multiple layering of narratives through different mediums, that may have been the intention.

Credit due, though. My first couple hours reading it, I was sitting outside at a swimming pool on a gorgeous day... and I was still jumpy and creeped-out.

I love Johnny Truant's character. While yeah, he quite clearly acts like a complete asshole most of the time, his narrative and acutely poetic view of things are incredible.

[morrowcosom]

Vocals done by real mental patients