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Same Dream | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

by cnkguy
Same Dream | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

Separate family members experience the same disturbing dream at the same time.

A ghostly entity tries to use a cell phone to communicate with the living.

A couple hears unexplained noises coming outside their bedroom door late at night.

If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show or call 1-855-853-4802!

If you like the show, please help keep us on the air and support the show by becoming an EPP (Extra Podcast Person). We'll give you a BONUS episode every week as a "Thank You" for your support. Become an EPP here: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118

#ghosts #ghoststories #halloween #horror #paranormal #supernatural #haunting #haunted #demonic #hauntedhouse #cemetery #evp #ghoststory #ghostbusters #unexplained #shadowpeople #investigation #truestory

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HAUNTED PLACES

, Real Ghost Stories


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Worlds Without Heroes

by cnkguy
Worlds Without Heroes

Worlds Without HeroesReading Time: 6 minutes

*Static*

…Is it…

*Crackle*

No…just turn it…tha-

*Static*

*Pop*

KJ: Hello? *tap tap* Hello? There we go. Okay, starting now. My name is Katie Johns, and the following testimony from Andrew Kirby is being recorded in an attempt to preserve our history and make sure a tragedy like this never has to befall another soul. Andrew, can you share with us the earliest memory you have of the event, or those involved in it?

AK: I remember it like it was yesterday. *clears throat* I was in the car with my parents and my sister. Of course we were in the back seat, doing dumb things that kids do; counting how many of the same car was on the road, playing slug bug, you know. There weren’t any confirmed sightings yet. The most we had were blurry pictures, or videos so shaky that the most you saw was what someone could maybe argue was possibly a foot or hand… but here we are, the four of us in our little car, and out of nowhere this oncoming semi starts to drift into our lane. Damn thing doesn’t even try to slow down, instead it seems to be accelerating. It’s plowing through the cars in front of us, just about to collide… and then… *Sniffle*

KJ: Its ok Andrew, just take your time.

AK: And then that’s when I saw him. I had closed my eyes to brace for impact, and when nothing happened, I opened them back up, and he was just there, floating in mid-air with the semi held effortlessly above his head. *Crying* He was like something out of a comic book; cape flowing majestically in the wind, rippling muscles barely contained by the costume that covered them, a big symbol on his chest that must have been from some unknown language.  Sure, his skin was a shade of red, his eyes were totally white, and he had a strange fin on his head instead of hair, but as a kid, you know a superhero when you see one.

KJ: And then what happened?

AK: What do you mean what happened? He smiled, set the semi down, and then flew away. He saved my day, and then went to save someone else’s. The whole world knows what happened next; he kept saving the day. I still remember when he risked his like to stop a meteor from hitting the earth. We all thought it wiped him out, but of course, we were wrong. I mean, it was foolish of us to think that a simple comet could take out Red Ultra. *Chuckle* Yeah the name seems a little xenophobic or racist, but he seemed to like it. *Chuckle* And then who could forget when he rounded up all the nuclear weapons across the globe, took them right out of our galaxy, hurling them into a black hole? Like something straight out of a superhero movie. Or what about how he exposed the illuminati, while also providing the evidence that they had been behind all of the terror attacks and wars as far back as written record goes? On top of that, he helped us set up a one world government that ended poverty, famine, and even inequality. And then when he was elected as President, refused the position because it was not his place to rule us! …It seems like so long ago now…

KJ: What were some of the biggest moments for you, personally? The moments that really pushed him through to the status of superhero?

AK: The biggest moment for me personally was probably when he saved my family, but I think what really made me think of him as a full blown, straight from the comics, bonafide superhero, was when Jace Lincoln started his xenophobe terrorist group and declared war on him. The best comics always have a hero whose greatest enemy sprang up because of him, whether justified or not. To me, that was when I knew. Throughout all of the times they fought, all the terrible things Jace did to try to defame or destroy him, Red never killed him. Never even thought about it. He let our legal system do its thing. I think that’s why he became a hero to all of us. Why, even though he didn’t look like, we accepted him as one of us. *Heavy Sobbing*

KJ: I know this is difficult, Andrew. Are you able to continue?

AK: Yeah… yeah I’ll be fine. *Sniffling* I think that’s what makes today so hard. Remembering what we had, and trying to come to terms with what has happened since.

KJ: Do you remember where you were the day it happened? The day we lost our hero? *Whimper*

AK: Do I remember where I was the day we lost our hero? *Loud bang against wall* We didn’t lose him! He was taken from us! Implying that we lost him is placing the blame on the victim! He was stolen! His legacy shattered! Katie, I love you like a daughter, but fuck you for saying ‘we lost’ him! *Loud banging on wall* *Fast, deep breaths*

KJ: Andrew, please. That’s not what I meant, and you know that. This is hard for all of us. *Sniffle* If you need a moment, that is fine, just please answer the question when you are ready.

AK: Yeah Katie… I remember the day our hero was taken from us. *Slow, deep inhale* I had just gotten off work. I walked to my car and noticed an abnormal amount of police, firefighters, and EMTs driving by with their sirens blaring. The color of the sky was an unnatural orange. I drove home and didn’t see a single civilian outside their homes. The people I did see were all huddled around their TVs, watching the events unfold. Though of course, I wasn’t aware of what events were unfolding yet. When I got home, I flipped on the news, and that’s when I saw what everyone was so entranced by. *Hard swallow* Hundreds of ships had descended on the earth, one for each capital city. Leaders had been taken hostage, along with the world President, and were rounded up in a field in the middle of England like cattle. Along the bottom of the screen, I saw a tagline continuously scrolling that read, ‘Red Ultra missing, presumed dead’. I was more frightened than I had ever been. Then we saw the creatures emerge from their ships, clad in metal armor and space helmets… *Sobbing*

KJ: Andrew, before we continue, if Red Ultra was able to hear this, what would you like to say to him?

AK: What would I like to say to him? *Slow deep breaths* Red Ultra… if you’re out there… fuck you! How could you do this to us? You were our hero! We saw you risk your life for us! You taught us how to exist with those we don’t understand, and even those we once feared! You united us under your banner of heroism! But on the day we needed you the most… *Rapid breaths slowly becoming slow deep breaths*

KJ: Go on Andrew, what happened when we needed him the most?

AK: He flew down out of the sky the way he always did – right at the last second. He stared down the invaders…*Sobbing*…and then he knelt. The invaders took off their helmets, and to the horror of the world, they all looked just like him. The same species. And then, we all sat and watched as he used his strength, his speed, and every other power he once used to save us.., *pause…* to break us. He went through and proceeded to skin, immolate, electrocute, dismember, disembowel, and shatter every single leader we had. Then he casually walked into one of the ships and came back out with Jace Lincoln bound and gagged. *Long pause* That’s when we realized that every word Jace said was true. Every transmission between Red and his superiors, every blurry photo of clandestine meetings, every radar reading showing ships surrounding the earth, every bit of evidence he found that pointed to the catastrophes being created by an outside force, or that the meteor never even existed… all of it was true. *Long silent pause* Then we saw Red pull Jace’s head from his body and crush it beneath his heel.

*slight crying heard from both*

KJ: I’m sorry to make you relive this, Andrew. I know it’s hard. But you’re one of the last among us who remembers how this all started.

AK: I know… and that’s why it has to be done. For the last 30 years, they have harvested our planet to the point that there is nothing left – and then about a year ago, they all just flew away. Our world is falling apart. We’re all just waiting on one more natural disaster to wipe us out. We have compiled evidence that suggests that this isn’t the first planet they have done this to, or even the first universe, and my guess is we won’t be the last. But if we can get this message out before the last of our radio towers’ power plants collapse, then maybe we can save another world from sharing our fate.

KJ: We were able to get some readings from their ship as they left, showing that they are able to resonate at various frequencies, possibly allowing them to shift between dimensions. After spending the last year doing various tests, we have found a way to send this through to various frequencies at once, as well as encoding a written version within the waves that will be transcribed by me following this recording. We have no clue how it will reach you, or when, but hopefully someone out there will receive this while there is still a chance.

AK: We believe we may have been warned of this once before, but none of us saw the truth in the message. Please, if you are hearing this, reading this, or have received this in any format at all, and take anything away from this message, take away this; the red skinned, white eyed visitor is not there to save you, he is there to make sure you belong to a world without heroes.

Revelation 13:3 And I saw one of his heads as if it had been mortally wounded, and his deadly wound was healed. And all the world marveled and followed the beast.

LEARN FROM US.

 

CREDIT: Johaan Alfsen

The post Worlds Without Heroes appeared first on Creepypasta.

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Dead Talk | Ghost Stories, Paranormal, Supernatural

by cnkguy
Dead Talk | Ghost Stories, Paranormal, Supernatural

Live viewers on Facebook and Youtube call in and share their real ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show or call 1-855-853-4802!

If you like the show, please help keep us on the air and support the show by becoming an EPP (Extra Podcast Person). We'll give you a BONUS episode every week as a "Thank You" for your support. Become an EPP here: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118

#ghosts #ghoststories #halloween #horror #paranormal #supernatural #haunting #haunted #demonic #hauntedhouse #cemetery #evp #ghoststory #ghostbusters #unexplained #shadowpeople #investigation #truestory

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HAUNTED PLACES

, Real Ghost Stories


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Child in the Mirror

by cnkguy
Child in the Mirror

Anon submitted:

I would prefer if this were kept anonymous.

I got up at night because I needed to use the bathroom and I really hate doing that because it freaks me out all the time, especially since the bathroom has a mirror and I can never see my face and I’m always worried if I turn on the light I would see something other than my face. Anyways, I hate getting up at night to use the bathroom even more now.

This night, after I used the toilet and washed my hands, I was tired so I just stood there in front of the mirror, leaning on the counter because I was tired. I stared into the shadow of my face, thinking the more I face it the less likely I am to be afraid of it and logic would take hold. But then in the corner of my eye, I saw something else in the mirror. It was short, child height, and was standing in the doorway of the room just opposite the bathroom so I could see it in the mirror. I jumped and the figure… skipped it looked like… toward the bathroom doorway. I slammed my hand against the light, turning it on, and there was nothing there. I stood there, catching my breath, making sure nothing was inside the bathroom or the other room for the next twenty or so minutes. When I finally went to bed, I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, and eventually I felt a cold, small hand quickly grab my ankle and release it. I screamed and turned on the lamp on my nightstand. Nothing was there.

When I looked in the morning, my ankle was purple, as if bruised.

FYNK James: 8/10 The cold small hand around the ankle gets me. Thanks for sharing the scares!

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Nightmares


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Backwards

by cnkguy
Backwards

BackwardsReading Time: 4 minutes

You wake up to a text one morning. It is 7:03—you blink, sleepily. It’s from your best friend, Tom. The message reads,

hey! do you wanna hang out some time today?? i’m free whenever

You blink at your phone and then send him a response.

yeah, I can be there around ten

With that, you turn your phone off, roll over, and go back to sleep.

When you wake up, the clock beside you reads 9:26. Instinctively, you check your phone. You have a text.

cool! see you then

It’s from Tom, of course, so you roll out of bed to begin your day. You have some breakfast, throw on a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt (a red one with the word “Adidas” spelled boldly across the front), and you head out the door.

You have known Tom for a very long time. He is a good friend of yours, and you have a lot in common. He loves music, is into photography, and is, in general, a very laid-back person. Today should be a good day.

You pull up at his house, and once the car is stopped, you text him.

can I come through the front?

…i guess so… are you here?

…yes?

oh…ok come on in

With this response, you head in through the door of Tom’s house, slightly confused about the conversation.

Once inside, you call to him: “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, you tell me! What’s up?” The response comes from the kitchen, where you find Tom sitting and eating cereal. “You want some?” he asks. You shrug and grab a bowl from the cupboard. As you fill it, you ask him, “What’s going on, man?”

His mouth is full, so he responds with a, “Hm?”

“You asked me to come over… what’s up?”

He looks genuinely confused for a moment, but then starts to laugh.

“Oh yeah, I know… I was just messing with you back there.”

“Ok… well, cool. Any particular reason I’m here, then?”

“Not really… I guess I just wanted to hang out.”

“Nice. So do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, if you want. It’s up to you—you’re the guest.”

As he says this, you notice something peculiar about his shirt. It’s clearly supposed to say, “Walt Disney,” underneath a blue castle, but the words are backwards. You question him about this and he responds quickly.

“Oh, this? It’s not really Disney—I think they just reversed the words so that they wouldn’t infringe on copyright or something. I don’t know. I got it from Wal-Mart.”

He laughs again, which is odd, because you don’t find anything particularly funny. It’s a nervous laugh. You forgive this, and chuckle with him.

“Ok, that’s weird. Well do you wanna—”

“No, it’s not weird, it’s just the way I bought the shirt.”

He interrupts you sharply with this thought. It catches you off guard.

“Oh, I know it is. It’s just kind of funny, that’s all.”

There is an awkward pause. You speak again.

“So do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure… pick something out on my Netflix. I’m gonna grab some more cereal.”

You move to his TV and turn it on—you know how to operate it, since you’ve been over here pretty much every other day all summer. You find a movie, sit on the couch, and scoot to the right to make room for Tom, who plops down beside you.

You’re more concerned with him than you are with the film, though. Is there something wrong? You look over at him to see if you can discern any noticeable distress. He seems to be enjoying the movie well enough, but…

You blink. Something isn’t right about his face. After looking closely, you realize what it is—there’s a mole on his cheek just beneath his right eye. You know that he has a mole on his face, but you realize that it should be on the other side. You look away, and then look back. Are you imagining it? You must be imagining it. Moles don’t move like that. You must be mistaken.

You go back to watching the film, but you are eventually drawn back to his face. You couldn’t be imagining it—that spot was on the other side. A quick glance at a family picture on the wall confirms your suspicion, but you’re not quite sure what to do with this information. You try to forget it, and go back to watching the film, but your sense of unease grows. You have the irrational thought that Tom has been altered somehow, that someone has taken him apart and put him back together, but made a mistake somewhere. You try to shake the feeling.

Tom gets up from his spot beside you for more cereal, which is nothing odd—he’s always been able to put away at least four bowls of Cap’n Crunch. He comes back in with the box and pours it into his bowl. You blink. He then proceeds to pour milk over the cereal. You can’t put your finger on why this is making you so uncomfortable. He lifts his spoon and uses it to carry the cereal from the bowl to his mouth, and you realize what’s wrong.

He’s using his right hand. He should be using his left hand. Tom is left handed. Why isn’t he using his left hand? You feel an incredible wave of insecurity wash over you, but before you can look away, he notices you staring.

“What?” He says, in a more threatening tone than you’d expected to hear.

“Nothing—I just… um…” You get up from the couch. “I really need to go to the bathroom.” You begin to move towards the stairs.

“You can’t use the bathroom. Don’t use the bathroom!” Tom shouts in a dangerously urgent tone. You hear him get up from the couch hurriedly.

You move faster, determined to get away and get to the bathroom.

“STOP!” He yells after you. He is running now. “Don’t go in there!!”

You sprint to the bathroom door, slam it shut, and lock it. You turn around, expecting to be standing in between his two bathroom mirrors, but are greeted with a different sight.

The mirror above the sink is smashed. On the ground lays Tom, face up, with the words, “Walt Disney” written correctly on his shirt. The mole is on the left side of his face. He is not moving.

You’re about to shout something when you hear the sound of glass shattering behind you. Upon turning around, you see a figure springing through the newly broken mirror that hangs on the wall, and the last thing you see before everything goes dark is the word “Adidas,” spelled backwards across its bright red shirt.

 

CREDIT: Daniel Z. Miller

The post Backwards appeared first on Creepypasta.

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If Glass Could Scream

by cnkguy
If Glass Could Scream

If Glass Could ScreamReading Time: 4 minutes

“Purgatory on Earth” read the flyer as it flapped unevenly in the wind, poorly stapled against the wooden post of a power line. It was an interesting title, not exactly the alluring intro phrase most religious recruitment ads used. For what I knew of Purgatory, it wasn’t exactly a place most people were itching to get into in a hurry. Still, I was curious enough to see exactly what sort of sales pitch this group had prepared, and I had nothing better to do than wait for the bus to take me back home from work.

Are you tired of suffering? Are you tired of feeling guilty? Are you sick of having to confess your sins each and every time you stray from the path? What if you could say goodbye to all of that? What if you could purge your sins and all of those negative feelings for good? 

We don’t mean when you get to Heaven. We mean NOW. TODAY! Cleanse your soul forever by hearing His voice. The Choir of Heaven will deliver you to peace on Earth. Join us. Salvation is waiting.

Something was weird about the entire message. On one hand, it seemed like a normal new-age Church, drawing followers away from more traditional confession-based religions. On the other hand, it was quite the lofty promise that their Church could make a person never suffer or feel guilt ever again. Hearing the voice of God (whom I assumed they were referring to) and the Choir of Heaven just seemed like fancy ways of telling you they read from the Bible and sung church hymns. In their defense, it couldn’t be easy trying to lure people to a startup Church. We were in the Southeastern United States, after all. You could find churches of every denomination with ease, whether you wanted to or not.

At the bottom of their flyer there was only a website. No address or phone number to be found. I figured this was either a very new church or a glorified religious podcast.

“More like ‘Purgatory on Tape’,” I muttered to myself with a smile, overly amused at my own joke. I took a photo of the flyer with my phone and loaded onto the bus that had finally arrived.

A couple of weeks passed before I even thought about that flyer again. It had only been a passing curiosity while I waited for the bus. I wasn’t particularly looking for any religion in my life, let alone “salvation.” I was swiping through my pics in a vain attempt to find a better profile picture when it came to mind again. Thoroughly convinced I looked like a dad who had just discovered selfies, I came upon the photo I had taken of the website. Curious and with time to kill, I typed in the address and was redirected to an unremarkable page. The website was no more than a white slate with a play icon and a single sentence in black text that read “Please use headphones.”

I searched through my cluttered desk for a set of earbuds, wondering why I was going through all this trouble for what was probably no more than a low-budget sermon. Finding a tangled pair, I impatiently unraveled them, plugged in, and clicked play. I awaited to hear this ‘magical secret’ to living a life free of all guilt and pain.

The sound that came through those headphones did not belong to any preacher or church choir. I wish I could find the right adjectives to describe the horror that flew into my ears. It feels as though any word belonging to the English language is unworthy of being attached to it. Calling it a high pitched shrill might give you an idea, but it would be like giving you a candle so that you might understand the Sun. Imagine if glass could scream. That’s the only way I can put it.

I vomited instantly, ruining my laptop, and reeled back to escape the sound. My chair fell back and the earbuds yanked free of me. I came down hard on the ground, my head smashing into thin carpet. I felt nothing. The Sound did not stop. I flailed about trying to get to my feet. I could tell I was screaming. I could not hear my own screams, or feel them vibrate in my throat. But I knew I was screaming. I stumbled to my desk, grabbing my puke-covered laptop and ripping out the battery.

The Sound did not stop.

I vomited again. I could not taste it. My confusion was dwarfed by the Sound. It burned its way through my mind; my thoughts could not compete with its Scream. My legs buckled and I collapsed onto the desk. My entire body trembled. I didn’t want to move anymore, as if laying motionless would bring me some comfort. There was none.  No sleep ever came, but darkness did. I was blind before sunset.

I don’t know how many days passed. I only knew the Sound, and that it was the reason I lay unmoving in a puddle of my own filth. I wanted the end to come, but the Noise drowned out even my desire for death.

Then there was no sound.

There was only a Voice. I could not understand what it said. Its words were fire and light, and they enveloped me in a brilliant flash. I felt myself burn away, my last thoughts a mix of peace and ash. That was three days ago.

I’m writing this now from a print shop nearest to my apartment; my laptop is unrecoverable. I know you want to know what happened, but I cannot give you any explanation that will satisfy your curiosity. Nothing I can say will graze the surface of what I have witnessed. Only the Voice can show you. I can only tell you that I have found peace, and it burns.

I have to go, my flyers are ready and there is so much work to be done.

 

CREDIT: Jameson Curnick

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Creepy Pasta


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