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Creepy pasta thread!

musicpenguin

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Canopus

Canopus

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Posted (edited)

Destroy all the creepy pasta before some stupid people believe in it! I'm not kidding the same thing happened with Slender man.

@musicpenguin How do you hide a nuclear explosion and its aftereffects?

Edited by Canopus
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LaydeeDem

LaydeeDem

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Posted

Here's my favorite "creepypasta" ever:

http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/We_Know_You_Are_Out_There

!MESSAGE BEGINS

We made a mistake. That is the simple, undeniable truth of the matter, however painful it might be. The flaw was not in our Observatories, for those machines were as perfect as we could make, and they showed us only the unfiltered light of truth, The flaw was not in the Predictor, for it is a device of pure, infalliable logic, turning raw data into meaningful information without the taint of emotion or bias. No, the flaw was within us, the Orchestrators of this disaster, the sentients who thought themselves beyond such failings. We are responsible.

It began a short while ago, as these things are measured, less than 6^6 Deeli ago, though I suspect our systems of measure will mean very little by the time anyone recieves this transmission. We detected faint radio signals from a blossoming intelligence 2^14 Deelis outward from the Galactic Core, as photons travel. At first, crude and unstructured, these leaking broadcasts quickly grew in complexity and strength, as did the messages they carried. Through our Observatories we watched a of strife and violence, populated by a barbaric race of short-lived, fast-breeding vermin. They were brutal and uncultured things which stabbed and shot and burned each other with no regard for life or purpose. Even their concepts of Art spoke of conflict and pain. They divided themselves according to some bizarre cultural patterns and set their every industry to cause of death.

They terrified us, but we were older and wiser and so very far away, so we did no fret. Then we watched them split the atom and breech the heavens within the breadth of one of their single, short generations, and we began to worry. When they began actively transmitting messages and greetings into space, we felt fear and horror. Their transmissions promised peace and camaraderie to any who were listening, but we had watched them for too long to buy into such transparent deceptions. They knew we were out here, and they were coming for us.

The Orchestrators consulted the Predictor, and the output was dire. They would multiply and grow and flood out of their home system like some uncountable tide of Devourer worms, consuming all that lay in their path. It might that 6^8 Deelis, but they would destroy us if left unchecked. With aching carapaces, we decided to act, and sealed our fate.

The Gift of Mercy was 8^4 strides long with a mouth 2/4 that in diameter, filled with many 4^4 weights of machinery, fuel, and ballast. It would push itself up to 2/8th of light speed with its onboard fuel, and then begin to consume interstellar Primary Element 2/2 to feed its unlimited acceleration. It would be travelling at nearly light speed when it hit. They would never see it coming. Its launch was a day of mourning, celebration, and reflection. The horror of the act we had committed wwighed beavily upon us all; the necessity of our crime did little to comfort us.

The Gift had barely cleared the outer cometary halo when the mistake was realized, but it was too late. The Gift could not be caught, could not be recalled or diverted from its path. The architects and work crews, horrified at the awful power of the thing upon which they labored, had quietly self-terminated in droves, walking unshielded into radiation zones, neglecting proper null pressure, safety or simple caesing their nutrient consumption until their metabolic functions stopped. The appalling cost in lives had forced the Orchestrators to streamline the Gift's design and construction. There had been no time for the design or implementation of anything beyond the simple, massive engines and the stablizing systems. We could only watch in shame and horror as the light of genocide faded in infrared against the distant void.

They grew, and they changed, in a handful of lifetimes. They abolished war, abandonned their violent tendancies and turned themselves to the grand purpose of life and Art. We watched them remake first themselves, and then their world. Their frail, soft bodies gave way to gleaming metals and plastics, they unified their people through an omnipotent communications grid and produced Art of such power and emotion, the likes of which the Galaxy has never seen before. Or again, because of us.

They converted their home world into a paradise (by their standards) and many 10^6s of them poured out into the surrounding system with a rapidity and vigor that we could only envy. With bodies built to survive evry environment from the day-lit surface of their innermost world, to the atmosphere of their largest gas giant and the cold void in between, they set out to sculpt their system into something beautiful. At first we thought them to be simple miners, stripping the rocky planets and moons for vital resources, but then we began to see the purpose to their construction, the artworks carved into every surface, and traced across the system in glittering lights and dancing fusion trails. And still, our terrible Gift approached.

They had less than 2^2 Deeli to see it, following so closely on the tail if its own light. In that time, oh so brief even by their fleeting lives, more than 10^10 sentients prepared for death. Lovers exchanged last words, separated by worlds and the tyranny of light speed. Their planet-side engineers worked frantically to build sufficient transmission to upload countless masses with the necessary neural modification, while those above dumped lifetimes of music and literature frome their databanks to make room for passengers, Those lacking the required hardware of the time to aquire it consigned themselves to death, lashed out in fear and pain, or simply went about their lives as best they could under the circumstances.

The Gift arrived suddenly, the light of its impact visible in our skies, shining bright and cruel even to the unaugmented ocular receptor. We watched and we wept for our victims, dead so many Deelis before the light of their doom had even reached us. Many 6^4s of those who had been directly or even tangentially involved in the creation of the Gift sealed their spiracles was paste as a final penance for the small roles they had played in this atrocity. The light dimmed, the dust cleared, and our Observatories refocused upon the place where their shining blue world had once hung in the void, and found only dust and the pale gleam of an orphaned moon, wrapped in a thin, burning wisp of atmosphere that had once belonged to its parent.

Radiation and relativistic shrapnel had wiped out much of the inner system, and continent-sized chunks of molten rock carried screaming ghosts outward at interstellar escape velocities, damned to wander the great void for an eternity. The damage was apocalyptic, but not complete. From the shadows of the outer worlds, tiny points of light emerged, thousands of fusion trails of single ships and world ships and everything in between, many 10^6s of survivors in flesh and steel and memory banks, ready to rebuild. For a few moments we felt relief, even joy, and we were filled with the hope that their cuture and Art would survive the terrible blow we had dealt them. Then came the message, tightly focused at our star, transmitted simultaneously by hundreds of their ships.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."

!MESSAGE ENDS

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The Jedi Master

The Jedi Master

Posted
Posted

Might as well make one. This is a work of fiction, etc, etc.

The following message was intercepted by a Russian satellite. It was identified as a communication between Area 51 and President Obama. Dated June 15th, 2011.

GENERAL: Mr.President, we have a bit of a situation here.

PRESIDENT OBAMA: What is it?

G: A metallic object has appeared in the middle of the warehouse. It doesn't show up on any records.

P: Well, get rid of it!

G: We're trying. We've tried guns, bombs, everything. Wait...

P: What now?

G: Someone is getting out. Appears to be a human female... We'll attempt contact with your approval...

P: Go ahead.

The message cut off at this point. About five minutes later, another communication was intercepted. It was the woman speaking...

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: Ah, your little defense system was so easy to get through. You really should try harder. This universe of yours, very nice. Too bad we have to take it over and all...

P: Who is this?

W: That does not matter. All that matters is that we are here to take over bit by bit. And this country, the heart of this world, comes first. I will contact the warlord. Until New Years Eve 2013, my friend...

It is suspected that the United States covered this up. They have been preparing for "New Years Eve 2013" for the last year. An EAS warning has been prepared. All this remained a secret... until now.

We will soon be under attack by another universe...

I'm not very good at this. :P

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LaydeeDem

LaydeeDem

Posted
Posted

Did you guys know there is a KSP creepy-pasta?

http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/Jebediah's_Vision_-_Kerbal_Space_Program_Pasta

Hey guys. I just wanted to share with you the story of something very strange that happened to me in Kerbal Space Program, in the hopes that someone out there saw what I saw. It all started at around 3:00 AM EST (I'm kind of a night owl), several hours after the recent 0.16 update was released.

I decided to move the game I had been playing, 0.15.2, to an archive folder. The plan was to start new from a fresh install, since I'd heard on the forums that the update would break persistent and craft files anyway. I loaded up the site and began the download. When it was finished, I was extremely excited to play. I extracted directly to downloads and launched it from the application in the main folder.

I was impressed from the getgo. The background was animated now, showing a cute kerbonaut standing in front of a little Muncastle he'd built at his feet. When I updated my settings back to my usual, there was another of some kerbals floating in orbit around Kerbin. Upon starting the game, I spent only a brief time looking at all of the new parts - I wanted to walk on the Mun! This was something every player dreamed of, and everyone wanted to be among the first.

Although my plan had always been to send the whole crew - Bill, Jeb, and Bob - I was in a hurry, and in order to save time, I decided to use my old design. Before, all three of the intrepid trio could go, but unfortunately the design could now only accommodate the new one-man pod. Jebediah would be making the trip alone.

Launch went perfectly, and soon I was set for a Mun encounter. The closer I got, the more excited I became. I know it sounds silly to get so excited about a computer game, but when it comes to KSP, this is how a lot of players are. Every step forward feels like a major achievement. At 50 kilometers from the surface, I throttled up and began to slow my descent. I was going a bit faster than was safe, and that was when I noticed something strange. The portrait that displays your kerbonaut's face is creepy for that pod. It shows your kerbal in a dull orange light, with his head at a slight angle. And stranger still: Jebediah, the one that never stops grinning, was terrified.

I thought this was pretty weird, but there was no time to pay attention to that. I had to land this craft. 30 kilometers...25...20...15...10. I came to a perfect landing at 0.6 meters per second - my best yet. This was it. I extended the ladder, and Jebediah stepped out of the command pod. I walked him down the ladder, released, and - YES! I had done it. Kerbal-kind had conquered the Mun. There was only one more thing I wanted to do before heading home. I had noticed in the control settings that the EVA suit had lights, so I warped forward to night-time to test it out.

I never got the chance. At my location, I should have had a nice view of Kerbin at night. Instead, it was nowhere to be found. For that matter, where were the stars? This didn't seem right at all. I put Jeb back in the command pod and set the time forward. Not only did Kerbin never rise - neither did the sun.

Then I checked the map view. I had no idea what to think. Rather than describe it to you, I've attached the picture. I print-screened it (by now it's instinctive, though I know of the F1 command). The screenshot of the map view is attached below.

And so, I did the only thing I could think of - I took off. I ascended to about 5 kilometers from the surface, turned myself to a 90 degree heading, and put myself on escape trajectory from the Mun. I just kept going and going until the Mun was no longer in sight. The map view was now just an empty black screen and a clear flight list. Eventually, I could see indicators of two ships in the distance, but I never got close enough to see the ships themelves.

The names of the ships - Columbia, and Soyuz 11.

I had had enough, and attempted to end the flight. When that didn't work, I simply used Ctrl+Alt+Del. I knew of Columbia, but I had to Google Soyuz 11 to confirm what I had already guessed - like Columbia, Soyuz 11 was a spacecraft that was destroyed on re-entry, killing its crew.

I restarted the game, and attempted to try for an orbit using the new big 3-man pod. This time it actually went off without a hitch, and the spacecraft made it into orbit. I let it go a few times, but when I turned to start my de-orbit burn, Jeb looked scared again. I was a bit unsettled, but started anyway.

Once I was in atmosphere, I was ready to separate the crew pod from the rest of the ship. I attempted to release, but the decoupler failed, and it remained attached. The command pod was meant to separate from the ship and drift down with a parachute, but if it was still attached, it would come down much too fast for a safe landing. Hoping the force of the drag would break the pod off, as it sometimes does, I deployed the chute. The chute was pulled clean off by the air resistance. When the ship hit the ground, and Bill and Bob died, Jeb's terrified portrait remained just a second longer than it should have.

I checked the forums a few days later to see if others had experienced it. Not only did I find nothing, but I was informed of something that still creeps me out. With everyone trying to patch their game, the servers went down hard the day of the update. I couldn't have downloaded it directly from the site, and even at the time of this writing, no direct 0.16 download is available.

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ShachonianX

ShachonianX

Posted
Posted

I just wrote this creepy pasta right now. It's called "The Castle."

The Diary of Gilbert Jones

NOTE: These pages were have the only surviving entries on them. All the others were soaked by water or blood.

Entry 20, 4/19/1944

Recently, a Nazi base has been spotted by spy planes. It is a large castle from the Medieval times. We have been sent in to raid the base. The flight to the castle will take about a day.

Entry 21, 4/20/1944

We have arrived at the castle. But there is something unusual about this place. There aren't any guards patrolling the castle. However, we did find one. He kept talking about this monster that had killed everyone. We didn't believe him. At night, he attacked one of our soldiers, and the guard was shot.

Entry 23, 4/22/1944

It's our second day in the castle. I am still terrified by what happened to Colonel Oswald. We still don't know what happened to him, but he appeared to have been torn in half. As we venture deeper into the castle, we have been finding the dead bodies of Nazis.

Entry 24, 4/23/1944

General Davidson is dead. Some horrid monstrosity appeared, tearing him in half. We luckily shot the monster to death. Only four of us now remain.

Entry 26, 4/23/1944

The creatures are everywhere. Only me and Lieutenant Guss remain. I am making a run for it. After running off, I hear Guss scream. I keep running. I appear to be getting closer and closer to the exit.

Private Gilbert's body was found close to the entrance of the castle. He had been stabbed through the chest. The last remaining entries were blood stained. The last page, which was somewhat stained, reads:

THEY ARE COMING. WE CANNOT SURVIVE. EVERYONE WILL- (the rest was blood stained).

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Rage097

Rage097

Posted
Posted
Meh you guys are kind of trying too hard.

Here's the basic plot for the pasa's you guys have written:

Something top secret happens!

People die!

Now everyone dies!

:/

I could post my creepypasta. I don't think the mods would approved of severe body horror though.

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joppiesaus

joppiesaus

Posted
Posted (edited)

Item #: SCP-1025

Object Class: Keter Safe

Special Containment Procedures: Due to its potential as a bioweapon capable of destroying all life on Earth, SCP-1025 is to be kept in an isolated underground vault secured by no fewer than 10 armed guards, to be rotated twice weekly and checked for compromise by infectious agents. The vault should be armed with a thermite mine to be detonated at the first sign of containment breach.

Revision: SCP-1025 is to be kept in a passcode-secured locker. Further research requires O5 approval.

Description: SCP-1025 is a hardcover book, approximately 1,500 pages long. The front cover and spine feature the title "The Encyclopedia of Common Diseases." The publisher's page indicates the book was printed in 19██ by █████ Press. No other copies of a book with that title and publisher have been found, and no record of the publisher exists.

Readers of the book seem to exhibit symptoms of any disease they read about. The effect can take between █ and ██ hours to manifest. (See Test Log)

Addendum 1025-01: Test Log

Subjects: D-1025-01

Test: Subject read entry entitled "Common Cold." Subject observed for several hours afterward.

Results: Subject exhibited cough within 2 hours, and when asked, claimed to feel "slightly achey," though he attributed this to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

Subjects: D-1025-02

Test: Subject read entry entitled "Chicken Pox." Subject observed for several hours.

Results: Over the course of one hour, subject observed to scratch at no fewer than 5 points on her body repeatedly. Subject's medical history indicated she had contracted chicken pox at age 8. Possible evidence that item can override natural immunities noted.

Subjects: D-1025-03

Test: Subject read entry entitled "Cancer of the Lungs." Subject observed for several hours. Test was to determine item's ability to accelerate advancement of illnesses.

Result: Subject observed to cough 4 10 6 a significant number of times over the course of â–ˆ hours within a relatively small amount of time. Subject denied feeling any discomfort, but observation of subject's breathing indicated irregularities. Subject terminated and sent for autopsy. No tumors apparent.

Note: We clearly didn't wait long enough. But we all heard the coughs, and his wheezing.

Subjects: D-1025-04

Test: Previous test repeated, but subject observed for 7 days.

Results: A lot of coughing and wheezing, far beyond what should be considered normal. Subject terminated and sent for autopsy. No tumors apparent.

Note: What if the illness vanishes after death, making infection all the more insidious?

Subjects: D-1025-05

Test: Same as previous.

Results: Same as previous, but subject sent for live vivisection, utilizing [DATA EXPUNGED] hours before expiring from shock. No tumors apparent.

Note: We have to keep trying. Imagine if this were an infectious agent. Imagine if there were more books like this out there.

[Redundant tests redacted for brevity. In summary, each test used one D-class subject, who read one entry from the item, and was then tested or vivisected in search of signs of infection following reported symptoms. After test 15, research was moved to a dedicated isolated facility in ████, ██, staffed by 3 researchers and 2 security. One D-class subject delivered as needed to minimize space and ration needs.]

Subjects: D-1025-27

Test: Subject read entry entitled "Appendicitis." Subject had undergone an appendectomy at age 16. Observed for 3 days.

Results: After 52 hours, subject complained of stomach ache significant abdominal discomfort. Vivisection performed. No appendix found, but area where appendix would normally be looked a few shades more red than it should be, by general consensus of research staff.

Subjects: D-1025-28 (formerly Researcher ████ ██████)

Test: Subject had developed persistent cough, despite never reading SCP-1025, and was placed in observation for one week.

Results: None apparent for 6 days. At 0930 hours on day 7, subject appeared slightly taller than the day previous. Noted as evidence that item's anomalous properties can cause generation of diseases other than those researched by the victim, and without direct viewing of reading material. Vivisection considered, but overruled for the time being.

Note: ████ got out! The crazy bastard got out somehow! We were so stupid! The addition of height is a classical symptom of SCP-016 adapting to the stress of being confined in that room. Who knows or cares what he was coming down with first? There was a grating on the ceiling. A few more feet of height, and a few inches skinnier, and he'd easily fit. He could be up there right now, growing claws and vomiting infected blood everywhere and taking who knows what other dormant diseases with him. SCP-008? SCP-742? Oh, God, what if he's come down with SCP-217?

Addendum 1025-02: A recovery team was sent to the facility on █/█/██ after no contact was made from the facility for 72 hours. Agents found Researchers █████ ████ and ███ ████ sealed in the observation booth, both wearing biological containment suits. Nearly all stored air tanks were depleted. Agent █████ ███ was found crawling through the facility's air ducts with sidearm drawn. Researcher ████ ██████ had locked himself in the barracks with an improvised flamethrower made of aerosol cleaner and a box of matches. Later interview indicated ██████ had not climbed into ducts, but simply used his passcode to leave the observation chamber while other researchers were distracted. Agent ███████ █████ was found dead in a supply closet locked from inside, with several empty bottles of water and ration packages. The door had been given an airtight seal with garbage bags and duct tape.

Note: After careful review of all research on SCP-1025, I'm ordering an immediate evaluation of whoever approved the use of 27 D-Class subjects, an isolated facility and a dedicated underground bunker on this money pit. Not one out-of-the-ordinary infectious agent was found anyplace this item was tested. And every involved staff member had passed a basic psych exam within the previous year. I have no idea how far up the chain of command this "hypochondria by proxy" effect can reach, or how it works, and frankly, I see no benefit in learning. Stick it in a box, lock it up, and for God's sake, try not to worry about it. -O5-â–ˆ

by the way, the underlined stuff should be striped. sorry.

Just something of the SCP foundation :)

Edited by joppiesaus
it was first not a creepy pasta story
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