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The Scared Thread.... number THREE!

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Have you ever heard of Luna Game? (Warning for some instances of Zalgo-fication and a couple instances of minor dismemberment and blood in the side videos, but nothing excessive.)

Edited by Dr. Paine

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Have you ever heard of Luna Game? (Warning for some instances of Zalgo-fication and a couple instances of minor dismemberment and blood in the side videos, but nothing excessive.)

Eh, it's okay.

 

Have you heard of Dreamy Rainbow?

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Terror here, here, and possibly here.

 

For those of you with weak stomachs and hearts, the above links are images, they contain no gore, insects/arachnids, other creepy crawlies, no blood n guts, no ghosts and no ghouls, and no criminals. But I assure you they will still...terrify you.

 

>:3

oh my god that is soooo true i am scared for life!!!!!!!!!!

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If you are watching television, and the signal cuts out to static, turn the TV off immediately. If you watch the static on TV for long enough, the static will suddenly pause. All sound in the room will cease; even the white noise of the TV itself will disappear. If this happens you must not look away from the screen. You will probably not notice at the time, before you lose your gaze on the TV, your body will freeze as well. Time around and with you have paused completely. Specks of the black and white dots slowly come to life, creeping slowly in seemingly random directions. Not static as you know it, but organizing themselves into a moving picture again in front of you. As the static returns to normal, and the white noise of the TV comes back, you will regain control of your body.

 

You must never watch that television again. It will only play static, even when unplugged. If you watch the static any longer, these same events will reoccur, but with disastrous results. What exactly happens is unknown, as it is obvious that anyone that has been unfortunate enough to experience this has disappeared. It is rumored that if one continues to watch the static again, or during their experience, looks away, the white and black specks will slowly start to move again, but you will not. Your eyes will then be permanently fixated on the screen as you watch the picture come back to life, and what seems to be your station's signal return. You learn soon this is not the case, as all sound is still absent, and the picture on the TV shows a familiar surrounding: the room in which you sit.

 

The only thing you see next is movement on the TV, as you see yourself from behind, and subsequently, the cause of your disappearance.

Hooray for ritual pastas.

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be warned though, I only posted this for the girl's sake. She had to be scared... me... I was somewhat surprised and after I realized what I had clicked, not surprised at all.

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Here's a story I found a really long time ago, back in 2005. It was originally in a flash screamer, called "THE DOLL LADY: A Halloween Tale/A dark and unsettling folk tale from the Old Country." I transcribed it to a text document so I could read it without watching the screamer, because it was a good story. I'm glad I transcribed it, and even more glad that my friend saved the email I sent it to her in, because I haven't been able to find the flash OR the story no matter how much googling I did. I've only ever seen one mention of it, too. D:

 

So here's an awesome story from a fairly obscure flash animation from 2005:

 

Iskra was the Doll Lady.

 

Our village was small, and we were not wealthy. We had fresh water, and we had enough to eat, but we did not have much else. We, the boys, had a few wooden toys--carts, horses and soldiers carved by our fathers. But my sister, and every little girl, had a beautiful doll. Iskra made sure of it.

 

Iskra's husband had been a farmer, and the wealthiest man in the village until his heart gave out. Iskra had never given birth, but she loved the children of the village as if they were her own.

 

On each girl's sixth birthday, Iskra would present them with a beautiful doll. The dolls were of the best quality, purchased from a far away town, and she lovingly made the clothes herself. The girls loved their dolls, and the loved Iskra. It had been that way for many years.

 

But it was not to stay that way.

 

On her sixth birthday, little Klavdiya receive her doll. It had a green dress and big glass eyes, and she took it with her everywhere as most of the girls did. Scarcely a week after her birthday, we were playing in the fields when Klavdiya collapsed. We carried her back to her parents as fast as we could. The doctor came and said she had a powerful and dangerous fever. He was not wrong, for within a few days the fever claimed her life.

 

Before the news of her death broke, Klavdiya's mother ran up to Iskra's house and hurled the doll at the door. She screamed and wailed and shrieked--she said that it was the doll that made her daughter ill, that Iskra had put a wicked curse on it. Iskra opened the door and cried herself, she was so upset at the accusation.

 

Klavdiya's mother was led away by her husband. All the village agreed that she was overcome with grief and had taken out her feelings on Iskra. There were no curses and Iskra meant no harm--such foolishness was peasant talk, and we children were not to repeat it. But I noticed that some of the adults were less friendly towards Iskra from then on, despite what they had said to us.

 

A few months passed and my sister Nika's birthday approached. Iskra was not seen for a few days, and when my sister's birthday came we knew why. Iskra presented her with the most beautiful doll I had ever seen. It had huge blue eyes and she had made an elaborate blue gown for it. It seemed as if Iskra wanted to show that she was a good person, to dissolve the fears of the village. This doll, that she had spent so much time and effort on, was her way of proving it.

 

My sister Nika died of fever exactly two weeks after her birthday.

 

My father nearly went mad with grief. For two full days he sat indoors, just holding Nika's doll and weeping. Then he went to see Iskra.

 

It was like watching Klavdiya's mother all over again. He shrieked and he swore and he spat. He smashed the doll against Iskra's door and screamed that she was a witch, that she had cursed the dolls and made Nika die. Iskra wept and tried to protest her innocence. It fell on deaf ears. After a few minutes my father was dragged away by the doctor, and Iskra went back into her house just as before. This time, however, it did not end there.

 

One by one the villagers came and put the dolls Iskra had given them on her doorstep. I remember seeing them all in a pile--twenty years worth of gifts, all given back. We never saw Iskra take them, but they were gone the next day.

 

Iskra was never seen to leave her house again. I sometimes caught sight of her face in a window as she stared at the children playing. Her face had become pale and gaunt, and her eyes wide and red. She looked the very embodiment of madness. Eventually we saw her face no more, and Iskra was all but forgotten.

 

The years passed and I left the village. I sometimes thought of Iskra, with her staring red eyes, and felt sorry for her. I never really believed that she had hurt anyone. I thought it was all coincidence, and that she had been unfairly accused by superstitious townsfolk searching for a scapegoat. I still believe that.

 

One summer I receive a letter from my father. The village well had dried up and the remaining people were abandoning the village to move to a nearby town. I went back to help my father move his things, and to see the village one last time.

 

As we packed the last belongings into the cart, I looked over at Iskra's house. It had holes in the roof and the windows were broken. I asked my father what had become of Iskra--he said he did not know, and he did not care. She had not been seen since I had watched her staring from the window all those years ago.

 

Was Iskra dead? Did her body remain in the house, unburied? Nobody knew. I felt a strange sadness and loss. And even though the sun was setting and the light was fading, I set off towards Iskra's house.

 

My father called for me to stop, that there was no point in going inside. I did not listen. I had to know what had happened to Iskra, perhaps even bury her remains if necessary. I felt in some way responsible, as if I should have spoken up in her defense when she was accused of causing the fever. But who would have listened to me back then?

 

The door to Iskra's house opened with a firm push. It was quite dark inside. I could make out a layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. There was a faint smell of rotting meat. But besides some chairs and a stove, there was nothing of interest downstairs.

 

The smell became stronger as I climbed the stairs. I began to feel scared as I approached Iskra's dust-covered bed. This was almost certainly where her remains were. She had fallen ill and died in bed, just as Klavdiya and Nika had one. I knew it.

 

But as I approached the bed, it became obvious that it was empty. The sheets were still folded neatly on top. There was no sign of Iskra. Perhaps she had left the village, sneaked out one night when nobody was watching?

 

I turned to go back downstairs when I noticed the ladder to the attic. I looked up and could see the trap door was closed. I tested the ladder, which was still strong, and climbed up.

 

The trapdoor opened easily. The smell was much worse here. The remains of daylight were shining through the hole in the roof, and as I looked around my heart jumped--I could make out small faces, dotted around the attic! But after a moment I realized that they, of course, belonged to dolls.

 

All the dolls that Iskra had ever given away were here. As I walked the room, I could see them clearly. The years had not been kind to them--they were cracked and damaged, and their dresses stained by the rain. I was beginning to become scared. I took a few more steps into the room, and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I turned and there was nothing there. I took a step further and it happened again. Then I thought I heard a whispered voice, and became very frightened. I decided to leave the house and go back to my father.

 

I turned back towards the ladder and Iskra was standing in front of me, a rotting corpse with wide, staring red eyes. She screamed in my face, an unearthly screech that shook my to the core. I screamed and scrambled past her, down the ladder, down the stairs and out the door. As I ran from the house I could hear a screeching, giggling laugh.

 

I ran back to the cart and my father, nearly choking from fear. We left the village immediately, and did not look back. I was still shaking an hour later, and I could still smell her an hour after that.

 

I told my father what I saw. He said that it was Iskra's punishment for killing the children--to be trapped between life and death. I remain unconvinced. I heard the mad laughter that came from her desiccated skull. I wonder if, driven mad by the false accusations, she had cheated death in order to someday wreak revenge on those that had wronged her?

 

Or perhaps I am being as paranoid and foolish as those who accused her of giving away cursed toys all those years ago...All I know for sure is what I saw with my own eyes--a creature that should have long been dead, but was very much alive.

 

I don't let my daughter play with dolls.

 

(BTW, if anybody recognizes this and saved this flash or knows where I can find it, it would be awesome if you could send it to me! It had creepy music and photos and made the story even better, even though it was a screamer. Thanks!)

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Hooray for ritual pastas.

I don't get it, what happens if you've pushed the person off the chair? @.@

 

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nice story... I vaguely remember seeing it somewhere but now when I look, I can't find it...

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Sloss Furnace

 

Located in Birmingham, AL. Every year they run a Haunted House there. I went through between 11PM and Midnight on October 31st last year. You will see, hear and feel unusual things that were not put in by the haunted house producers. It's the scariest place I've ever been in my life. The CBS folks in the video are a little corny, but Sloss itself is mind-numbingly scary. Many people actually died there during the plant's operation. SCAWWY.

 

Almost as scary as Bieber and Pattinson. Almost.

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And because we need the old folk tales-

. AKA the Slit Mouthed Woman. Screamerish.

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Kuchisake Onna reminded me....

 

WE NEED SAYA'S UNDERWORLD!

I was in a station, sitting on a bench and waiting for the train to come.

Presently, a lady holding a baby to her breast sat down next to me.

Well I'm fond of children and I couldn't help but stare at the sweet-looking baby.

The  lady noticed this and she started chatting to me in a friendly manner.

'This isn't actually a baby, you know. It's a bag.'

As she said so, she turned over the baby's clothes and showed me a zipper on the belly.

Now that she said it, I noticed that the baby's eyes appeared to be made of glass too.

'Wow, it looks very realistic."'

'Yes, I know. It takes a lot of work to make it. Time-consuming, too. But it doesn't bother me, because I love recycling things,' she replied with a smile.

Just then the train pulled up. She stood up and got on the train.

 

I was going to catch the same train but I couldn't bring myself to move.

So I sat there rigid and stared after the train until it disappeared into the distance.

 

This is what I heard from my friend.

 

One day he was invited to dinner at a friend's house; that friend was into some weird religious cult.

There he was served some meat, but his host wouldn't tell what kind of meat it was no matter what.

He wondered if it was human meat, but after he ate it he knew it definitely wasn't human meat.

*How did you know that it wasn't human meat?*

 

In the town where I lived there was an abandoned apartment with two-floors. It had broken windows and dirty, crumbling walls, so no locals would ever go near it.

 

One day me and my friend decided to explore the place. It was still early in the afternoon and there was a lot of light, so we ventured to the second floor.

And there on one of the doors we found some graffiti.

We went closer to have a look and found some words that said:"I am in the room ahead."

 

We decided to go through the door.

We walked until we reached a fork and on the wall it said:"I am on the left."

 

We were getting slightly scared but decided to turn left.

Then we came to the place where there were rooms on both sides of us.

And on the wall it said, "My head is on the left and my body is on the right."

 

My friend, as soon as he saw it, lost nerve and ran away. But I decided to stay and, mustering all my courage, walked through the door on the right. I walked to the farthest wall in the room and on the wall it said: "My body is underneath." I looked down and on the floor it said: "My head is coming here from the room on the left. Don't look behind you."

 

Quickly I flung myself through the window and ran away.

Since then I have never been near the place.

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Posting

here. Feel free to dance to it. smile.gif

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I look like this : dO.Ob I am freaking out. I read every single thing and watched every video. But I was immune to only 1 thing... Justin Bieber. You may now call me " Not scared of the scariest thing on the thread" xd.png Just Kidding about the name thing.

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And some more music for an early Valentine's Day? I'm sure

really does love you.

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Scary Story

 

If you really want to be scared then read this story. If you want to recover from being scared then watch

WARNING:Profanity is abundant.

Holy blargharghargh. That is the scariest thing I have seen in a long time. I actually jumped, and that's not easy to do anymore. xd.png

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I'd just like to add...

 

The Enigma of Amigara Fault.

 

Contains no blood, gore or anything. Extreme horror, claustraphobia and sleeplessness. Almost caused me some lack of sleep, and THATS RARE nowdays.

 

http://brasscockroach.com/h4ll0w33n2007/ma...ll/Amigara.html

 

WARNING

THE ABOVE LINK IS TERRIFYING AND CONTAINS ITS OWN PAGE ON TVTROPES.

 

Oh, and if you want to look for freaky stuff, tvtropes is PERFECT.

 

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