Creepy thread
I was adopted. I never knew my real mother; rather, I knew her at one time but I left her side when I was too little to be able to remember. I loved my adopted family though. They were so kind to me. I ate well, I lived in a warm and comfortable house, and I got to stay up pretty late.
Let me tell you about my family real fast: First, there’s my mother. I never called her Mom or anything like that; I just called her by her first name. Janice. She didn’t mind at all though. Sometimes I would lay my head against her in front of the television and she would tickle my back with her nails. She is one of those Hollywood mothers.
Second, there’s Dad. His real name was Richard, but he never really liked me much so I began to refer to him as Dad in a desperate attempt to gain his affection. It didn’t work. I think that no matter what I called him, he would never love me as much as his own child. He was not afraid to pop his children when they did something wrong. I found that out before I could use the restroom properly. He didn’t hesitate to spank me. Well, I’m in line and it’s because of his methods.
Lastly, is my sister. Little Emily was really young when I was adopted, so we were about the same age, but she was slightly older. I liked to think of her as my little sister, though. We got along better than any sibling could possibly get along. We would always stay up late together and just talk. Well, she did a lot of the talking; I mostly just listened because I loved her. It was a great setup that we had! We were short on bedrooms, so- because I didn’t want to sleep in the living room by myself when I was littler- I had a pallet set up for me next to her bed on the floor. This is where I have slept since. But it was cool with me because I enjoyed being with her and I had always felt pretty protective of my little sis.
Everything changed on a horrible Wednesday night. I was at home taking a nap when little Emily opened the front door. The sound of the door opening pulled me to a state of consciousness and I walked from the room down the hall to the living room. That’s when I first remembered it was Wednesday. I was never any good at keeping track of what day it was. I knew it was Wednesday because Emily had just come home from her Church’s youth group gathering. She walked in the front door and hugged me, and then was followed in by Dad and Janice.
“You have a good nap?” Janice said teasingly as she ruffled up my hair. I just shook my head away and snorted in a manner that clearly expressed that I was teasing back with her.
“Don’t you snort at your mother like that!” said my father gruffly with authority. He shut the door behind him and hung up his coat.
“I was clearly joking…” I growled under my breath. He must not have heard me because I didn’t feel him smack me. Emily then proceeded to our room and I followed. She started telling me about her day. You know… usual teenage girl stuff. But I listened so that she would feel better. After her summary she suggested watching TV and I obliged and jumped onto the couch as she was going for the remote. The TV turned on and we watched it together until the sun went down. Emily was the kind of girl that- instead of watching cartoons and soap operas- would rather watch Discovery and Animal Planet and Natural Geographic. I like those too so I didn’t mind. Actually, those were the only channels that can hold my attention.
So it got late and Janice walked up behind the sofa. “Emily it’s past your bed time. Turn off the television and go to your room. You too.” she pointed at me. Emily turned off the program we were watching grudgingly and stood up. She started down the hallway to our room. As I followed I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
We went into our room and Emily turned off the light. Just as she did, I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. It was out the window, but as soon as I redirected my line of sight to where the window was no longer in my peripheral vision, what it was that I thought I saw was gone. I still remained alert. For my sister’s sake.
I laid there in the darkness with nothing but the thin ray of light from the street lamp outside to illuminate the room. It wasn’t much. Time and time again I could have sworn that I heard subtle sounds just out the window… a twig break, leaves crunching, clothes jostling. And all the while I could smell a faint stench of sweat and blood. I kept my eyes open most of the night.
The sounds outside subsided and the smell left my nose. I began to feel at ease. My eyelids closed.
Not long after that, I heard a very loud crash on the other side of the house. I was up in an instant. “THERE’S SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE!” I barked with extreme adrenaline coursing through me. “Wake up!” I shrilly pleaded with Emily. She did, and as soon as I saw her sit up I ran to my parent’s room…
Dad was dead. His neck was splayed open and gaping as blood spilled out of it, off the bed, and onto the floor. I saw that the master bathroom’s door was closed and just before it- on the outside- was a man.
A man… I don’t feel comfortable calling it that.
He was very large and rugged. He turned around and saw me and that’s when I saw him accurately for the first time. I wont forget it. His eyes were large and beady and trapped with lust. He was styling a beard that was badly unkempt with blood dripping off. His clothes were dirty and his face was cold. Just then I noticed the same horrid smell of sweat and blood from earlier, but this time it was overwhelming.
He saw me. He saw me and grinned with a set of crooked yellow teeth. That smile threw me off. I thought that I was going to die, but then he turned back to the bathroom door completely unperturbed by my presence. I was terrified and didn’t no what to do. I just yelled and cried. I watched as he shouldered through door that was Mom’s only protection. I watched as he raised the large razor that he was carrying, but had obviously neglected to use properly. I watched as he sliced her open and tore her to shreds…
I then heard something; the last thing that I wanted to hear… It was Emily’s scream coming from behind me. The large monstrosity looked up from my butchered mother and stared at my little sister. I was distraught. He stood up and quickly started walking toward us. My sis turned and ran, and I was at a loss when he bypassed me and went straight after her. Why was she still in the house? Had she not assessed the situation and run? Apparently not, and now she was dead and I was alone.
I ran after them both. I expected the man to kill her as he had the rest of my family, but I was sadly mistaken. He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her as a way to make clear that he was in control. He dragged her through the house… I was making all of the noise I could now, hoping and praying that someone would come to my aid. He mustn’t take her. Not her.
As he passed me I backed against the wall and whimpered with terror, “Why?” He didn’t respond except by putting his free hand on my head while Emily screamed in the other and saying “Good boy.” He gave another crooked grin and a very cold, unnatural laugh. I followed him to the door where he dragged my helpless sister after him. He opened it, pulled her out, and slammed it shut behind him.
I am now sitting in the house with my mutilated adopted parents, shivering and whimpering with dismay. He’s out there with her. Doing who-knows-what to her, and I can’t do anything. I would if I could, but I can’t. I would chase after them in a heartbeat, but I can’t. I sit here, looking at the front door. I look down at my paws. If only I could open doors…
Aww :(
Bara sorglig ju :(
Necronymous Forum
Private Message
Subject: Okay… Sent: Thu Jan 08, 6:36 pm
From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616
This is kind of random, but I notice your posts constantly mention this ‘Thorvaldr’ character. You always say it’s watching something or waiting for something, but no one else has any idea who or what it is. I’m just curious… Who is Thorvaldr? :O
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 2:17 am
From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior
Thorvaldr? I’m almost glad you asked. He’s just kind of there. A sort of presence, if you will. I can’t really explain it properly without it sounding completely odd. By the way… he sees you.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 12:01 pm
From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616
Uh… could you explain that a bit better? Sorry, I don’t understand. I mean, is he a person, a ghost, a pet, or what? D:
Subject:Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 5:20 pm
From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior
Thorvaldr is a warrior king. He is waiting for the moon to rise as of now…
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Sat Jan 10, 4:14 pm
From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616
9_9 I’m sorry, that just raises more questions than it answers. Don’t bother wasting my time by replying if you aren’t going to say anything useful. I know I’m probably coming off a little bit harsh, but it doesn’t seem like you’re taking this seriously at all. I’d try to help you on the forum, seeing as everyone thinks you’re a complete weirdo and I want to see if there’s anything that could be explained to them so maybe you’ll have an easier time.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Sun Jan 11, 8:43 pm
From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior
I almost considered just deleting that reply there and carrying on the way I have been, but I’ve a feeling you’re not going to give up either way. If it’s that important to you, I’ll explain everything. To the best of my knowledge, Thorvaldr is something of an entity, and like I said before, he’s just there. He doesn’t even have a body, but somehow I’m able to know his every move and that he wants me to tell others about it. It’s an impulse. If I don’t tell everyone about Thorvaldr, he gets angry… He starts clouding my vision and everything gets dark and blurry, then I can’t sleep at all because I’m just lying there shaking. I can almost hear his voice kind of, but he’s not saying anything in particular, only these syllables and non-words that come out of nowhere right when I think everything’s quiet. He’s there, and he’s always there. I can’t get rid of him. I don’t want to go to a shrink, because last time I did they just gave me these pills that only made everything worse. I started seeing Thorvaldr in my own reflection. Even though it was very vague and hard to make out, I could tell it was definitely him.
I can’t fight it. Can’t fight a warrior king, especially when he’s taken over my mind like this. I’m trying to remember what happened, but somehow my memory’s been shot. Maybe Thorvaldr did it. I vaguely recall something about getting lost somewhere when I was in Norway, but that’s it. I’d tell you more, but I fear he’s trying to choke me as I type this…
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 11:00 am
From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616
Wow… that’s really weird… Anyway, the reason why it kind of took me an extra day to reply is because when I read that message, I had pretty much no idea what to say. That is really really weird. Maybe he’s just mad cause he doesn’t have a body? lol
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 1:10 pm
From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior
Thorvaldr thinks that’s a great idea. Thank you.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 7:19 pm
From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616
What?
I lol'd :$
iRETARDEDAM: Det där är ju inte hela Thorvaldr konversationen. :<
Citat från revolution
iRETARDEDAM: Det där är ju inte hela Thorvaldr konversationen. :<
Didn't know, surfade bara på cp (lol, creepypasta) efter någon medelmåttig serie.
Dåligt försök att liva upp tråden. Har du möjligtvis resten av den isåfall? c:
Finns på Creepypasta.com, nån sida där.
Man måste ju klicka på continue reading.
Thorvaldr historien är lite halvdan, kanske mest för att det inte är en historia alls ):
Hela:
Necronymous Forum Private Message
Subject: Okay… Sent: Thu Jan 08, 6:36 pm From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616 This is kind of random, but I notice your posts constantly mention this ‘Thorvaldr’ character. You always say it’s watching something or waiting for something, but no one else has any idea who or what it is. I’m just curious… Who is Thorvaldr? :O
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 2:17 am From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior Thorvaldr? I’m almost glad you asked. He’s just kind of there. A sort of presence, if you will. I can’t really explain it properly without it sounding completely odd. By the way… he sees you.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 12:01 pm From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616 Uh… could you explain that a bit better? Sorry, I don’t understand. I mean, is he a person, a ghost, a pet, or what? D:
Subject:Re: Okay… Sent: Fri Jan 09, 5:20 pm From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior Thorvaldr is a warrior king. He is waiting for the moon to rise as of now…
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Sat Jan 10, 4:14 pm From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616 9_9 I’m sorry, that just raises more questions than it answers. Don’t bother wasting my time by replying if you aren’t going to say anything useful. I know I’m probably coming off a little bit harsh, but it doesn’t seem like you’re taking this seriously at all. I’d try to help you on the forum, seeing as everyone thinks you’re a complete weirdo and I want to see if there’s anything that could be explained to them so maybe you’ll have an easier time.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Sun Jan 11, 8:43 pm From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior I almost considered just deleting that reply there and carrying on the way I have been, but I’ve a feeling you’re not going to give up either way. If it’s that important to you, I’ll explain everything. To the best of my knowledge, Thorvaldr is something of an entity, and like I said before, he’s just there. He doesn’t even have a body, but somehow I’m able to know his every move and that he wants me to tell others about it. It’s an impulse. If I don’t tell everyone about Thorvaldr, he gets angry… He starts clouding my vision and everything gets dark and blurry, then I can’t sleep at all because I’m just lying there shaking. I can almost hear his voice kind of, but he’s not saying anything in particular, only these syllables and non-words that come out of nowhere right when I think everything’s quiet. He’s there, and he’s always there. I can’t get rid of him. I don’t want to go to a shrink, because last time I did they just gave me these pills that only made everything worse. I started seeing Thorvaldr in my own reflection. Even though it was very vague and hard to make out, I could tell it was definitely him.
I can’t fight it. Can’t fight a warrior king, especially when he’s taken over my mind like this. I’m trying to remember what happened, but somehow my memory’s been shot. Maybe Thorvaldr did it. I vaguely recall something about getting lost somewhere when I was in Norway, but that’s it. I’d tell you more, but I fear he’s trying to choke me as I type this…
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 11:00 am From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616 Wow… that’s really weird… Anyway, the reason why it kind of took me an extra day to reply is because when I read that message, I had pretty much no idea what to say. That is really really weird. Maybe he’s just mad cause he doesn’t have a body? lol
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 1:10 pm From: Centurion616 To: Seraphine-Savior Thorvaldr thinks that’s a great idea. Thank you.
Subject: Re: Okay… Sent: Tues Jan 13, 7:19 pm From: Seraphine-Savior To: Centurion616 What?
Necronymous Forum Topic - Meet Thorvaldr By: Centurion616 Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:20 pm At least he’s not waiting anymore. (Pardon the blood) [Video embedded]
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Demona Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:26 pm That was really disturbing. Put up a warning next time.
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: milkofthedead Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:27 pm ^ I think “Pardon the blood” could count as a warning. Though he didn’t say anything about the ‘corpse.’ At least I hope it’s not a real corpse… :O
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Neocracy Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:29 pm Could someone tell me what it is? I’m too afraid to watch the whole thing, I stopped as soon as he left the room.
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Demona Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:36 pm Okay, here’s a summary of what happened, at least the way I saw it. If anyone has any corrections, I’ll edit this. 0:00-1:12 - Some guy (I think it’s Centurion, but I’m not sure) is standing over a partially dismembered corpse on his bed. He’s replacing the missing limbs and digits with other body parts he’s pulling out of a sack. 1:13-1:40 - He leaves the room, comes back with a rusty sword and helmet and “equips” the corpse with them. Then the video just kind of jump-cuts there. 1:40-3:40 - He’s now sitting in front of the camera, staring. You can kind of see the corpse in the background, only for some reason the limbs are attached to the body like they actually belonged there. Then the damn video jump-cuts AGAIN… 3:40-4:36 - Same thing as last time, only Centurion is gushing blood through his closed eyelids and mouth. You can see some blood on the corpse too, and at the end of it all, Centurion smiles and waves.
Like I said, really disturbing shit. It’s worse than it sounds.
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Neocracy Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:38 pm Oh, that was it? It’s got to be fake. I mean, if he’s bleeding out his eyes like that, how can he see to post? And it’s definitely Centurion in the video. He’s got the swastika tattoo, remember?
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: ForTheEmpire Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:44 pm If it’s fake, those are some really cool effects.
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Seraphine-Savior Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:49 pm No, no, it’s not fake. And it’s all my fault. See, we were PMing one another before, and I asked about the Thorvaldr guy. If I hadn’t suggested that Thorvaldr needed a body, then none of this would have happened.
Subject Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: milkofthedead Posted: Tues Jan 13, 7:55 pm It’s not your fault, Seraphine. Centurion would’ve done it anyway, he’s just like that. Remember when he wouldn’t stop obsessing over that church arson guy?
Subject: Re: Meet Thorvaldr By: Winterwing Posted: Tues Jan 13, 8:00 pm 4:21- It blinked. I swear to god, it blinked.
^ Den är visserligen inte ens speciellt bra, men..rätt ska vara rätt, om man nu ska posta det! :D
Blev ingen creepypasta av mig idag ):
Jobbar istället på hemsida, men där ska mina egna pastas upp sen!
They say that the hour of three A.M. is the time when spirits can become active, and I’m sure of that. My apartment was always a little too quiet for one in the city, especially at night. No drunk shouting in the street at that time, no sound of car horns and alarms could penetrate the dark at that particular hour. It’s like my apartment was high on a platform, surrounded only by a dense fog that the sharpest of hawk eyes couldn’t penetrate. I was usually attempting to sleep at that time, after bleaching my skin in the pure electric light of my computer screen. Emphasis on the phrase attempting, because from that stems this tale. I advise you, if you’ve been here long enough to find it, you’ll soon discover of what I’m talking about. I should really tell you anyway, just so you know you’re not insane. I know I’m not.
Every night for the past four months that I decided to make this apartment my home, a strange sound would pierce the strange blur that surrounded my home– or maybe just my mind. I have searched the apartment many times for it, but behind the hollow-sounding ivory walls and hard pine floors, I couldn’t find any source. The sound, at first, was like scratching. If you have fingernails, drag them along a table. Like that. It was slow, and every time I heard it, I froze up. It wasn’t as dramatic as anything like ghostly moaning or anything like that, but it still scared me so much I reverted back to childhood and stuck my head under the blanket.
During the day I worked at what could possibly be the most boring place on earth, a factory that stamped out cans. They didn’t even need workers, but I really didn’t care. It paid the bills, and getting to sit around until someone needed help fixing a machine wasn’t too bad. I sort of miss it. There was always something bad happening though; in retrospect, I feel as though it was following me. For instance, a man’s hand ended up being caught in the stamping machine under a sheet of aluminum. The crunch was sickening, it sounded like a dog chewing upon a bone. That same splintering sound.
Every night, I would retire from this slightly gory boredom to my apartment, back to my beloved computer. The cycle was always the same. Work, computer, scratching sound. I never really thought to ask anyone about it, I would usually forget about it by morning.
But one day I didn’t. I sat there in my folding chair at work, surrounded by the drab, bleak grey concrete walls, a long ignored cigarette that was gradually becoming one trembling tower of ashes in my grasp, trying to think of a way to discover whatever this thing was. Why wouldn’t I just follow it? Get my nerves together and find the continual source of fear for me. It made me cold just at the thought, but I knew I had to do it.
So that night, I turned off the computer as usual, but then took one extra step. I grabbed a flashlight. It would be faster than dashing across the room to my light switch. ‘It could even be mice,’ I thought to myself as I slipped into bed, wearing the hero’s garb of any sleepy man; a pair of boxers and socks. At least if I ran crying out of the building, a few people could get a laugh.
The clock slowly began to head towards three o’clock. My heart began to pound nervously. Like a sword I held the turned-off flashlight to my bare chest. The necklace around my neck felt strangely cold, even though I had at least three comforters on. Oh, the joys of a particularly cold winter. Closing my eyes, I heard the scratching. Slowly it got louder. My hand began to shake, but I kept my eyes shut. Why wasn’t I turning on the light? Why wasn’t I looking? Because there was a new sound. A tinkling, strange shaking, like a maraca full of metal instead of beans or beads.
A loud thunk against my door made me leap up. Turning on the flashlight, I managed to run to the light switch and flick it on as well. With an icy, trembling hand, I opened the door.
What I saw will never leave my mind. There was the source of my fear, the thing that had somehow invaded my home. An oddly small, waif-like creature, like a starving child with skin that was too pale. It was like a corpse dropped in water, for its skin was tinged with blue. Every vein was visible. Oh, how I wanted to gag at the sight. But it gets worse. Strategically placed in this demented creature’s flesh, long metal nails were embedded. Through the tips of its fingers and toes, sticking out of its neck and shoulders, down its chest and out of its eyes. They were everywhere. How loudly I screamed, I didn’t know. Would anyone hear it through the fog surrounding my house? Would I hear it? I couldn’t stop staring. The dried, cracking blood against that decaying flesh brought up my earlier meal, and a gushing hot river of vomit poured out of my mouth onto the ground.
I backed up as the creature took a step. Its lank hair was missing in chunks, and as it stepped closer, its feet dragged upon the floor, the nails in them making…a scratching sound. Why I had to keep my room in a state of continual chaos, I don’t know, but the mess was astounding. Of course I fell. Scrambling back, I stared in horror at the dead thing.
It didn’t move right, I realized. It didn’t just walk. Its motions were snappy and disjointed, and one foot dragged behind it while the other advanced towards me. In its hand, there was a heavy, rusted hammer, dripping with what I hope was water. It was slightly rust-colored. I couldn’t bear to see it, but in the other, there was a plastic grocery bag that sagged and poked out with the weight within it, like if someone hung a porcupine from a diaper. I felt the wall against my back. The creature moved forward; I was paralyzed with fear at the sight of it. It was so grotesque. In front of me, it stopped. I noticed the puncture marks upon its tiny calves where the nails were, and I felt a strange sense of pity.
The bag in its hand split a little, and the sight of what was within made me let out an audible, and most likely bile-scented groan. A nail jutted out. I cried out loudly as the thing pounced upon me, as I felt the first nail go into my eye, it was worse. Through the blood blocking my vision, I could see its tiny mouth pull back in a widely-toothed smile, the nails in its lips making them split and gush rotten black blood down onto me. I moaned in pain again as another nail entered my second eye. Blindly I swatted, but it was to no avail. Perhaps it would be over soon. Perhaps death would be better than being tormented by this rotten thing. But still, the nails entered. Still I cried out loudly, especially when I was dragged. I couldn’t see where, but damn, it hurt.
It’s gone now, the nailed child. I don’t know where it went, but I know somewhere, it will be coming out at three o’clock. And so will I.
I think you ought to check your clock, because it looks like this bag in my hand is about to split.
I’m so excited to see you.
Ah, okej. Den var sämre än vad jag trodde. :<
Någon som vill läsa mer pasta eller ska jag skita i att posta?
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