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The True Legend of Friday The 13th

by cnkguy
The True Legend of Friday The 13th

The True Legend of Friday The 13thReading Time: 3 minutes

Slow is the smolder of fire igniting in flesh. The skin cracks and dries and powders to ash, incinerating extremities long before flame penetrates to vital systems. The eyes will boil from the skull and cartilage will melt and run like wax. The insulated brain will be protected all the while, still cognizant of the excruciating agony. Bones will splinter next, molten marrow liquefying like hot lead before exploding in shrapnel to puncture the insides.

The body will attempt to cool its essential organs by redirecting blood flow to the skin where it will evaporate into great clouds of steaming red. Finally the heat will become too intense and the organs will start to swell and explode one by one, sending supernovas of anguish through the dying victim.

The onlookers thought that Grandmaster Jacques de Molay was long dead when dry words spoke out of the inferno for a final time.

“Dieu sait qui a tort et a péché. Il va bientot arriver malheur à ceux qui nous ont condamnés à mort.”
God knows who is wrong and has sinned. Soon a calamity will occur to those who have condemned us to death.

The legend of Friday the 13th began on October 13th, 1307. The Knights Templar, a prominent catholic military order during the Crusades, was betrayed by King Phillip IV who brought false charges against the Templar in order to seize their wealth. The Templar were arrested in mass, forced under torture to confess to blasphemous crimes against the church.

Grandmaster Jacques de Molay was burned alive, but not before he spat the curse of his dying words. Within a year, both Pope Clement and King Phillip IV of France who sentenced the Templar were dead.

The curse did not end with their death, however. A number of Templars made the decision to save their own lives by fabricating lies about their comrades, assisting King Phillip in condemning the order. One of these cowards named Jean Malay was even richly rewarded from the Templar coffers for his false and treacherous testimonies.

Fearing repercussion, Jean Malay fled with his new wealth to Scotland. Far enough to escape the punishment for his crimes, but not far enough to be safe from Grandmaster Jacques’ final curse. Within a year Jean would be dead as well, although not before he fathered a son to inherit his legacy.

710 years since that fateful day, Jean Malay’s descendants have since spread across the globe carrying with them what remains of the Grandmaster’s curse. I myself am afflicted, and I am writing this now to warn all those who may also be descendants without knowing it.

It will begin on a Friday, October 13th. An itching, burning sensation in your nose. Perhaps nothing more than a cold, at first, but wait to act at your own risk. The burning will spread down your chest, making it feel tight and difficult to breath. You’ll sweat like you have a fever, and your body will start to feel warm as the blood evacuates your vital organs.

Once you’ve reached this point, it’s already too late. The fire has lit inside you, and no medicine or artifice will be able to save you from your fate. This phenomenon has been recorded as spontaneous combustion in many accounts across the globe. It will only be minutes from here before you are reduced to ash, choking all the while on the noxious fumes of your own burning flesh.

You who bear this curse have strayed too far from God for him to save you. I don’t want you to worry though, because there is another who listens to the desperation of a midnight prayer. Do not concern yourself with his nature; it is enough to know that you are in need and he has the power to help. Pray with all your heart as the fire rages inside you, and when the voice answers, you must do as it says.

The voice will tell you what ingredients you need to gather. Blood is common, so it may be wise to have some ready before the symptoms begin. Animal or human sacrifices are less common, but it all depends on the strength of the bloodline which ties you to the Grandmaster’s curse. Once you have followed the instructions, you’ll notice the pain begin to subside within a few minutes. There will be another presence in the room at this point, but that’s an unavoidable side-effect of the ceremony.

Do not try to look at the presence. Do not talk to it unless it talks to you, and even then do not give it any information about yourself. If you are careful, and lucky, it will leave you alone. The curse will be lifted, and whatever happens after that… well at least it won’t be happening to you.

 

CREDIT: Tobias Wade

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hey, i'm trying to find a story that rly spooked me from some years ago! i'm almost certain it was a story submitted to this blog, and it was submitted way before this blog had other moderators, so maybe the original creator remembers what i'm talking about? all i can rly remember is that it was a kid, playing an old game (or some kind of older media) and something in said game telling them "on venus, anger is a gift" or very similar wording. any clue what i'm talking about?? or am i crazy???

by cnkguy
hey, i'm trying to find a story that rly spooked me from some years ago! i'm almost certain it was a story submitted to this blog, and it was submitted way before this blog had other moderators, so maybe the original creator remembers what i'm talking about? all i can rly remember is that it was a kid, playing an old game (or some kind of older media) and something in said game telling them "on venus, anger is a gift" or very similar wording. any clue what i'm talking about?? or am i crazy???

i don’t remember what you are talking about and the original creator has been gone for a long time leaving only me to reign in this kingdom of darkness, but perhaps somebody else remembers what you are talking about.

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Nightmares


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Cigarettes Will Kill You

by cnkguy
Cigarettes Will Kill You

Cigarettes Will Kill YouReading Time: 4 minutes

There was a time when I was younger that I didn’t let the people around me know that I smoked cigarettes. My best friends and I would acquire some packs from older friends, and sneak off into the woods just behind the corner store where we’d hang out while we smoked a few. Dumb, I know. We felt cool at the time, though. Little did I know, it was far from cool. As a matter of fact, to this day, I wish I was a better role model. Maybe then, things would be different. Much different.

On one fateful afternoon, after school, my friend Dalton and I met up with Jake, another friend of mine at the corner store. It was my eighteenth birthday the week prior, so I bought them each a pack of smokes with my newly acquired I.D. Per usual, we strolled into the thickly wooded area just behind the store, laughing and joking the whole way out. We would usually stop at this barely noticeable crossroads about half way through the woods. A stone marked the center and we would sit around it and just shoot the shit for hours.

But that day felt a little different.

We talked about going to this little cavern further out, just before the town line. There, we would be totally out of sight and not have to stress about anyone walking their dogs by us too much. “It’s pretty cool,” Dalton stated, “Nobody goes in there because it kinda smells like sulfur.”

We ducked out of sight and into the cavern. We set a flashlight down for some light and pulled out our new packs of cigs. I packed mine against my palm for a moment, but Dalton and Jake tore theirs open and dug right in. Jake looked at me with this goofy expression while putting a cigarette between his lips. “What?” I asked him. “Why do you smack your hand with your pack like that?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “To pack the tobacco so it stays lit longer. That’s how my grandfather did it, at least.” “That’s a myth.” Dalton stated plainly. I shook my head and opened my pack up as well.

This is when shit hit the fan.

After lighting up my smoke, we started to hear a strange tapping noise from just down the cave tunnel. It wasn’t too far out, but our light wasn’t powerful enough to reach all the way down the cavern walls. We all stared down into the darkness for a moment, before just writing it off as a small bat or something. We chatted it up through a couple of cigarettes before deciding we’d better get home before dinner time. However, as we stood up to go, the tapping noise returned, this time as more of a smacking. Much louder too. We stopped and stared again. This time though, we shined the light and noticed something. The dim light of our little flash actually touched upon a silhouette a little ways down. Its movement resembled that of someone doing something rather familiar; packing cigarettes. “Who is that?” Dalton whispered. I just shook my head. “We should go,” Jake suggested. We turned to go again. Our efforts were again interrupted by the sound, but this time it was coming from just outside the cave mouth. We could see the light up ahead, but no strange silhouette this time. “What the hell dude”, I seethed. “Who is this guy.” We continued to the cave mouth anyway. We stepped outside into the afternoon sun, and braced ourselves for what might be some homeless creep. We sighed in relief, however, as we were not greeted by the figure from the cave. Our comfort was short lived.

Suddenly a gust of wind swept up from around our feet as leaves launched upward. We became encapsulated in fall colors and brisk air. “GAAAH” I heard Dalton and Jake cry out in unison, as I swung around to observe what was happening. That’s when I saw him.

Or, saw “it” rather.

A tall human-like being, standing at about eight feet tall was holding Dalton and Jake by the backs of their hoodies; next to them, laid a large, ornate, wooden box. They were kicking, and writhing but could not seem to break free of his grasp. “Come on, let them go!” I shouted. Of course, he did not. I keep saying “he” but I don’t really know how to address what this thing was. Atop his head was a cowboy hat, and he wore a black button up shirt, with a tan vest over it.

But it was his face that caught most of my attention.

It appeared humanoid enough, but his nose was absent from the equation. Two slits were in its place. Chills shot up my spine, crawling up my neck like little spiders marching to my brain. I had to think quick. Unfortunately, when I think on my toes, I tend to make mistakes. I lunged forward as fast as I could and grabbed Dalton and Jake by the fronts of their sweathsirts. “I said let them go!” I screamed, attempting to pull back in hopes that I could break them free. In return, all I got was a loud shriek from this thing’s mouth. My hands broke free as I lurched backwards in shock at the noise. That’s when the sound started.

All around me I could hear the same tapping/smacking sound from earlier. It was as if hundreds of people were packing their cigarettes around us. I looked around, gasping and breathing heavily in fear. There wasn’t a single other person around, so where was this sound coming from? “You’ve made your decisions.” A loud voice arose from somewhere. My eyes darted back to the strange being holding my friends. They stopped writhing, both now looking up at their captor. “You shall not divert from your patterns of habit. If you forget, you will regret.”

Then it happened.

In one fluid motion, the being opened up a hatch on top of the wood box and threw my friends in. It then proceeded to shut the box, lift it with one hand, and then slam it against its massive palm over and over like a fresh pack of smokes. The volume of my friends’ cries was only matched by the booming voice of their attacker.

“ALWAYS. PACK. YOUR. CIGARETTES.”

I screamed, voice cracking and face contorted in dismay. Everything went silent. Dalton and Jake’s mangled bodies fell out of the box with a thud. The creature stood there with it’s unchanging expression, though it was more than likely pleased with the outcome. My friends were now dead, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“Do not stray from your routines. In the next life, these poor souls would be wise to follow your lead. Thank you for packing.”

Without another word, the supernatural outlaw dragged his box into the cave, the sound of loose bones rattling within, and then vanished into the darkness.

 

CREDIT: Mike Maxim

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Ohh if you're talking about movies, have you seen Hereditary yet?

by cnkguy
Ohh if you're talking about movies, have you seen Hereditary yet?

i asked like 30 people and nobody would take me 🙃🙃🙃 but i hella want to

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Fathers Return | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

by cnkguy
Fathers Return | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

A loved one communicates the experience of death from beyond the grave.

Was the disappearance of a candle the beginning of a conversation with the other side?

Do the holidays thin the veil between the living and the dead for one family?

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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fuckyeahnightmares: i’m rewatching annabelle: creation on tv and it still bangs what the hell?…

by cnkguy
fuckyeahnightmares: i’m rewatching annabelle: creation on tv and it still bangs what the hell?…

fuckyeahnightmares:

i’m rewatching annabelle: creation on tv and it still bangs

what the hell? there are post credit scenes?

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