domingo, 4 de octubre de 2015

Creepypastas #2





Karen woke and cringed. She was in terrible pain. She tried to move, but every time she did so, a burning, boiling sting shot through her back. The sheets moved with her when she tried to roll over, preventing her from going far, clinging tightly to her back, keeping her prisoner. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her sheets were a crimson color and they were wet. She could hear drops of liquid splashing on the floor. She could hear her son singing in another room and called to him, screaming his name, begging him to call 911. He came into the room, four years old and full of innocence. "Mommy!" he shouted. "I drawed a picture for you on this funny paper daddy gave me before he left for work." Her son handed her a portrait of herself, crudely drawn on skin that had, until recently, been on her back. 

Dwayne Fry








Every night, I hear something meow.

I know what you think I'm going to say next - that I don't own a cat. I do, and she's very vocal. 

You see, the meowing sounds like a real cat, but it's always followed by a very human chuckle; nasty, and giddy. I swear it's coming from somewhere behind my walls...

Wait...

I hear it again. It's closer...

It's coming from under my bed. 

Melissa Jensen






Heidi was drunk. Okay, maybe not drunk but definitely tipsy. She stumbled into the bathroom, laughing to herself. The room was dark and she couldn't find the light switch. Unconcerned with her privacy, she left the door open and went about her business, the bare light bulb hanging in the hall casting shadows across the floor and into the room. 

A few moments later, standing at the sink to wash her hands she looked up from the sink.

"Aghh!" she cried, her eyes widening in surprise. She paused and leaned in towards the mirror, squinting at the visage looking back at her. She laughed. Her own reflection had startled her. 

"Girl, you have had too much to drink." Heidi shook her head. She turned to leave but then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she turned back. Placing her hands on either side of the sink she leaned in and looked straight into the mirror.

"I believe in Bloody Mary," she chanted quietly. 

She paused for a minute, swallowing nervously. 

"I believe in Bloody Mary," she said again, her voice getting a little more confident. 

She laughed self-consciously. It was just a stupid urban legend. Heidi rolled her eyes and then she spoke again. "I believe in Bloody - "

They found her body the next day, her face frozen in a rictus grin, bloody claw marks scoring her cheeks. The coroner pronounced cause of death as a heart attack, but off the record down at Pete's Bar, a bourbon in his hand, he claimed to anyone who'd listen that she was scared to death.

Just what did Heidi see in the mirror that night? I guess you'll never know, unless you try it yourself...if you dare. Mwa-ha ha haaaa! 

Lisa Emme




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