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creepy_stories

1. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 30, 2012 8:13pm UTC
   Closer It started last week. I just got out of school and en route to my car, I saw it. Across the field. It was too far away to get any details, but it was there. It was in the shape of a man, more or less. I just shrugged it off as some guy. Whatever. But I kept seeing it. A few days ago I saw it again, standing in the middle of the field. Closer. I couldn't make out any features, but I knew it was staring at me. I saw it standing there as I drove away. I pulled up my street, and had to park a tthe end of the block. I saw it again, standing in front of my house. This time, I could make out features. It wore a long coat, with the collar up. And it wore a sort of bowler hat, although the brim was longer, and made the face almost invisible. But not quite. The features remain faint, all I remember was the look. A look of almost primal hunger. It scared me to think that I would have to go right past it to get home. I steeled myself and began to walk. The thing never moved, but somehow got closer to me. I ran the other way and looked back. It was still the same distance away. Wherever I went, whatever I did, it would always be the same distance away. Like right now for example. I don't have long left. It is downstairs in the kitchen. It is close enough I can feel it. I can feel its hunger. And it is getting closer.nmq/follow for more creepiness
   
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2. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 19, 2012 9:40pm UTC
   Remember, even if it doesn't seem like it, there is always at least one person
   crushing on you
   watching you.
   mq/follow for creepy stories/quotes
   
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3. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 19, 2012 9:36pm UTC
   Coffins used to be built with holes in them, attached to six feet of copper tubing and a bell. The tubing would allow air for victims buried under the mistaken impression they were dead. Harold, the Oakdale gravedigger, upon hearing a bell, went to go see if it was children pretending to be spirits. Sometimes it was also the wind. This time it wasn’t either. A voice from below begged, pleaded to be unburied.
   “You Sarah O’Bannon?”
   “Yes!” the voice assured.
   “You were born on September 17, 1827?”
   “Yes!”
   “The gravestone here says you died on February 19?”
   “No I’m alive, it was a mistake! Dig me up, set me free!”
   “Sorry about this, ma’am,” Harold said, stepping on the bell to silence it and plugging up the copper tube with dirt. “But this is August. Whatever you is down there, you ain’t alive no more, and you ain’t comin’ up.”
   nmq/follow for more creepy stories
   
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4. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 19, 2012 9:31pm UTC
   Yesterday upon the stair, I saw a man who wasn't there
   He wasn't there again today,
   oh how I wish he'd go away...
   nmq/follow for more creepiness
   
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5. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 19, 2012 9:28pm UTC
   Each night father fills me with dread, when he sits on the foot of my bed;
   I'd not mind that he speaks, in gibbers and squeaks, but for 17 years, he's been dead.
   nmq/follow for more creepiness
   
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6. creepy_stories
   posted a quote
   August 19, 2012 9:23pm UTC
   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 the inside of the cabin, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by several portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred and malice. 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 into a restless sleep. The next morning, the hunter awoke — he turned, blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.
   nmq/follow for more creepiness
   
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