When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be. Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and…

Post #1 (Sept. 7, 2010) Okay, /x/, I need your help with this. This is not copypasta, this is a long read, but I feel like my safety or well-being could very well depend on this. This is video game related, specifically Majora’s Mask, and this is the creepiest shit that has ever happened to me in my entire life. Having said that, I recently moved into my dorm room starting as a Sophomore in college and a friend of mine gave me his old Nintendo 64 to play. I was stoked, to say the least, I could finally play all of those old games of my youth that I hadn’t touched in at least a decade. His Nintendo 64…

I couldn’t take the calls any more. I just couldn’t take knowing. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it. It all started this summer, when I was playing with my oldest daughter, Chrissie. My kid absolutely loved toy cars, so I had given her my Matchbox collection, which I’d kept in the attic since my childhood. She was driving some farm animal around on the hood of my most prized possession: a classic fire truck with all its original parts and an unblemished paint job, when she suddenly stopped our caravan halfway to Mount Marshmallow Snowflakes, also known as the white leather sofa in the corner. “Daddy,”…

I’ve never been what you’d call a “gamer”. Sure, I own a console. It’s outdated by now. I like to play the odd game. But that’s about it. I’m almost forty. Old enough now that when I was at the height of my “gaming” years, all that really entailed was getting together with friends to play Mario or Castlevania, or Excite Bike, or Punch-Out. Maybe Sonic if a friend had a Genesis, which no one does anymore. Keeping up with the latest trends in gaming was never interesting to me. I have a lot of interests; reading, watching movies and television, listening to music. But gaming? It was never a hobby. More like a pastime. Like most pastimes, I don’t…

Howdy. You can call me “Jack.” It’s not my real name, but that’s what I’ll go by for now. I reckon the time to tell my story has come. Believe it or don’t, but here it is. I suggest you take away the lessons it teaches, even if you dismiss it all as bullshit like 98% of the other stories on the internet. But there’s more truth in this story than any one of you could know. Now, I’ve been out of high school for three years, but that’s when this particular event takes place, so I’m going to have to wind my clock back a little here to tell the story. Originally, for my first two-and-a-half years of high…

I often like to view creepy things on the internet. I don’t totally know why, I’ve just always been intrigued by things that are just…off. Any media is fine to take in the content. Stories, movies, videos, audio clips, video games, whatever. I just want to be unnerved. I work third shift, so my sleep schedule is all messed up. I sleep during the day and work at night. I get two days off a week, though, and always in a row. I could use this time to have some semblance of a normal life, but I’d rather not have to readjust my sleep schedule once work starts again, so I just stay up all night and sleep during the…

Read Part 1 Here This is what happened next. I’ve been up for three nights. Energy shots and cold showers help. I don’t want to sleep. It’s been much worse lately—the dreams, and the voices. I won’t smoke anymore of these things, I’ve decided. I need answers first. And I need these maddening voices and whispers to stop barraging my nights. I have to listen to music, TV, something, at all times. Or I start to hear them. So far, I’ve only told Mike about what happened. “Why didn’t you call the police?” Mike had asked me. “I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.” He still thinks I’m brainless for not having dialed 9-1-1, but I hold to the belief that even…

Before you read or listen to this, make sure you are alone. If you are in a room, close the door. If you are by a window, look outside and make sure there is no one there. The only way others should know about this story is by reading it, or listening to it themselves. Do not repeat this out loud to anyone, he will hear you. But you are able to read it to yourself or record yourself. Right now, these are the only two exceptions I know about. Once you think you’re alone, look at the screen, and do not take your eyes off of it until you are finished reading or listening to a recording. He will…

My end is near. I know this now. The thing my master says… It’s all too much at times. I heard my master saying something earlier… It sound like.. like he’s going to… replace me. It feels like, soon, he’s going to perform an operation on me… and I’m scared. You’re probably very confused, so let me elaborate. My master has me carry out tasks almost every day, and when he’s done, I go to sleep. The days he isn’t here, I either have things to do, or he puts me to sleep. The way he does it isn’t natural. As if… I want to wake up, but can’t. He gives something to me, and by the time I finish…

* funnymouth has joined #ReferSales. funnymouth: hello everyone tonight funnymouth: i like to lik the bluud funnymouth: out of in the person funnymouth: i see ur handsome face dont b so sad about it funnymouth: come on funnymouth: 🙂 * funnymouth has left #ReferSales. GhostJeorge: … Holy fuck, what the fuck lemonlimeskull: Did that just happen? GhostJeorge: Yes, Skull. Yes it did. The first thing I should probably note is that I’m “lemonlimeskull”. In other words, that’s my screen name up there. That was the first time I saw or heard from “funnymouth”, and for all intents and purposes, it should’ve been the last. Anyone who’s spent enough time chatting away knows that weirdos come and go. Folks pop in…

Post #1 (Sept. 7, 2010) Okay, /x/, I need your help with this. This is not copypasta, this is a long read, but I feel like my safety or well-being could very well depend on this. This is video game related, specifically Majora’s Mask, and this is the creepiest shit that has ever happened to me in my entire life. Having said that, I recently moved into my dorm room starting as a Sophomore in college and a friend of mine gave me his old Nintendo 64 to play. I was stoked, to say the least, I could finally play all of those old games of my youth that I hadn’t touched in at least a decade. His Nintendo 64…

I’ve never been what you’d call a “gamer”. Sure, I own a console. It’s outdated by now. I like to play the odd game. But that’s about it. I’m almost forty. Old enough now that when I was at the height of my “gaming” years, all that really entailed was getting together with friends to play Mario or Castlevania, or Excite Bike, or Punch-Out. Maybe Sonic if a friend had a Genesis, which no one does anymore. Keeping up with the latest trends in gaming was never interesting to me. I have a lot of interests; reading, watching movies and television, listening to music. But gaming? It was never a hobby. More like a pastime. Like most pastimes, I don’t…

* funnymouth has joined #ReferSales. funnymouth: hello everyone tonight funnymouth: i like to lik the bluud funnymouth: out of in the person funnymouth: i see ur handsome face dont b so sad about it funnymouth: come on funnymouth: 🙂 * funnymouth has left #ReferSales. GhostJeorge: … Holy fuck, what the fuck lemonlimeskull: Did that just happen? GhostJeorge: Yes, Skull. Yes it did. The first thing I should probably note is that I’m “lemonlimeskull”. In other words, that’s my screen name up there. That was the first time I saw or heard from “funnymouth”, and for all intents and purposes, it should’ve been the last. Anyone who’s spent enough time chatting away knows that weirdos come and go. Folks pop in…

When I was in high school, my friends and I had a peculiar pastime. Like any teenage delinquent, we liked to cause trouble. We weren’t vandals, we didn’t deal drugs, and we certainly didn’t bully kids in school. No, we liked to scare the living shit out of new parents by “hacking” their baby monitors. We were insufferable little punks who thought we were too good to get caught, and that our little acts of mischief would go unpunished. One night; however, I learned my lesson, and realized that I wasn’t quite as bulletproof as my tremendous adolescent ego made me out to be. Dimitri, Kurt, and I went to the same school, shared many of the same classes, and…

I often like to view creepy things on the internet. I don’t totally know why, I’ve just always been intrigued by things that are just…off. Any media is fine to take in the content. Stories, movies, videos, audio clips, video games, whatever. I just want to be unnerved. I work third shift, so my sleep schedule is all messed up. I sleep during the day and work at night. I get two days off a week, though, and always in a row. I could use this time to have some semblance of a normal life, but I’d rather not have to readjust my sleep schedule once work starts again, so I just stay up all night and sleep during the…

Everybody knows that if you surf the web long enough, you’ll see some pretty sick shit. This is especially true if you intentionally dwell into the dark underbelly of the internet. I’ve seen quite a few things I don’t care to admit to, but one thing that I’ll always remember is a site called “normalpornfornormalpeople.com”. The first strange thing about the site was that I didn’t find it by actually looking for it. It was e-mailed to me by someone I didn’t know. The e-mail was as follows: Hi there found this site is very nice thought u might like normalpornfornormalpeople.com pass it on, for the good of mankind Pretty standard issue chain letter, although the url and the last…

Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a siren blaring down the road. Great, another accident. The traffic was the last thing I wanted in the morning while going to work. Still, I had another hour before heading off, so I started my morning routine of taking a shower and brushing my teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast where I saw my son, Michael, eating cereal before breakfast. I grabbed a bagel and sat down on the couch, grabbing my iPad to read the news. “Terrorist leader Aamir Hadi has threatened the President!” The same old news… Nothing was “new” about it. All this drama for years between the Middle East and good old America. How long had we…

My end is near. I know this now. The thing my master says… It’s all too much at times. I heard my master saying something earlier… It sound like.. like he’s going to… replace me. It feels like, soon, he’s going to perform an operation on me… and I’m scared. You’re probably very confused, so let me elaborate. My master has me carry out tasks almost every day, and when he’s done, I go to sleep. The days he isn’t here, I either have things to do, or he puts me to sleep. The way he does it isn’t natural. As if… I want to wake up, but can’t. He gives something to me, and by the time I finish…

So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz “wut r u doin wit ma daughter?” u tel ur girl n she say “ma dad is ded.” THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

I couldn’t take the calls any more. I just couldn’t take knowing. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it. It all started this summer, when I was playing with my oldest daughter, Chrissie. My kid absolutely loved toy cars, so I had given her my Matchbox collection, which I’d kept in the attic since my childhood. She was driving some farm animal around on the hood of my most prized possession: a classic fire truck with all its original parts and an unblemished paint job, when she suddenly stopped our caravan halfway to Mount Marshmallow Snowflakes, also known as the white leather sofa in the corner. “Daddy,”…