As the title says this is my Scary Stories thread where I will taking scary stories found on the internet (not owned by me) and posting them here for your enjoyment and fright. Feel free to post your own, This thread is solely for the entertainment of those who like to live on the edge by scaring themselves.

Story 1: A Child's Eyes
Every child fears under their bed. If they don’t, they fear the closet, or maybe that little crack in the almost closed door.

Scientists know that children are more perceptive, they see things adults don’t. They aren’t yet tethered into only accepting what society wants them to accept. They see what is truly there.

They see the monsters.

If you were to borrow a child’s eyes and see through them for a night, you would go insane. To be able to see what you only dimly remember, burrowing into your covers while wearing those train pajamas, hoping to a God you can barely comprehend that “it” doesn’t see you back…would drive an adult crazy. Because Adults forget the rules.

1) Cover yourself. If you can’t see it, it can’t see you. Even if it makes it harder to breathe.

2) Don’t make a noise. Every whimper can lead to destruction.

3) Don’t move. It attracts their attention.

4) Only light can make them go away. Bright light. Flashlights make it worse.

Teens are caught in the middle. They still feel what’s there, but they cannot see… and they forget the rules….

Why do you think there are so many insomniacs typing at their computers, subconsciously praying the light from their monitor will be enough to keep them away?

It’s not. Now look behind you with a child’s eyes and try not to scream.

Story 2: Holder of Light
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, close your eyes and ask to visit someone who calls himself “The Holder of Light". You will be guided to a single door leading to a long winding hallway. You will be told to open your eyes. The hallway will be complete darkness, narrow enough only for you to feel the walls and navigate yourself forward.

If at any moment along the way the lights should come on, shut your eyes immediately and quickly make your way back to the door you came in. If your eyes stay open for more than a second, what you see will force you to instinctively tear them out.

If the lights stay off however, you will make your way to the end of the hall and another door. If there is a light from under the door leave immediately, what you came for is not there. If there is no light from under the door, carefully turn the handle and enter.

The room will be completely dark, aside from the lone candle in the center. What little light it brings reveals an outline of a cloak hovered over it. The man underneath the cloak is completely still. If you say anything, the man will tear out your eyes and devour your soul, and you will be forced to take his place under the cloak for the rest of eternity. There is only one question that the man will respond to, "What can protect us from them?"

If you proceed to ask this question, a piercing scream will ring out from the candle and a series of lights will illuminate the room, revealing the images of the most horrifying thoughts, fantasies and memories from all consciousness throughout history. Most people cannot handle this event, and will go insane or die instantly. However, if you should somehow manage to survive this, the man in the center of the room will rise slowly and put his hands to your head. You will be forced to look at his face. His face appears young, with the exception of two large cavities where his eyes once where. At this point you must not look away or you will be forever forgotten in time. He will then open your hand and place a small, round object into your right hand. You will be left feeling no pain, but the horrifying images will be burned into your memory for all eternity.

The eye you hold in your hand is object 5 of 538. The awakening has begun; they must not be brought together.

Story 3: Bullied
I grew up in a small, quiet town called Dureyham. Everybody knew each other, and there was a beautiful forest nearby in which I lived, in a wooden cabin. I lived with my father, my mother had died during labour. I had been forever pained with guilt at the fact that the beginning of my existence was the end of hers. Due to the circumstances, my father and I had a very close relationship.

Ever since I could remember, I had never socialised with the children of my town nor did I possess any desires to. I was shunned by the other children of my village. I have learned now that this was undoubtedly due to my familial situation and in that day and age it was bizarre for a child to grow up with a single parent, let alone a single father. This was perhaps the reason that my father and I lived in the forest rather than I the village itself, partially secluded from the small society. I recall one occasion in which I was approached by a boy of my age, who snorted “My mum says to stay away from you. She says your family ain’t right.”
As a six year old, I was perplexed by this statement and rather confused as to why he had said this, and what he meant. I shrugged it off and continued to skim stones across the playground solitarily.

When I was around the age of seven, a classmate of mine, Sarah Potts, went missing. All I can remember of Sarah is that her almost white, blonde hair was always plaited into long pigtails at either side of her head, and adorned with bright, satin ribbons and she had bright blue eyes. She would often glance at me from her desk in class, whispering to her friends and giggling, before her eyes resided on her pencil and paper, though I was overly familiar with being frowned at. This was an extremely strange occurrence for our quaint, sleepy town. Neighbours spoke to each other on a daily basis, any children playing out would be watched over immediately and parents had no reason to worry about their children playing outside. That was until several days following Sarah’s disappearance, when the frantic search parties had died down and the town came to the morbid conclusion that any hopes in finding the girl were futile.

Communication between villagers broke down. Children were forbidden to play outside now, and a child wouldn’t be seen without a parent by their side. Dureyham became a ghost town. I skipped down the darkening streets alone on my way home, triumphant, as any young child would be, at the fact that I now had the entire town to play in without facing the usual torment I succumbed to from the other children.

Creaking open the wooden door, I walked to the kitchen where my father was dishing up the evening meal. I began to salivate with anticipation and hunger. I hadn’t eaten all day again as the village children, as usual, had stolen my lunch.
“Sit down darling,” smiled Father. I jumped onto a wonky wooden chair, licking my lips.
“They didn’t find Sarah,” I slurped through mouthfuls of beef.
“That poor child,” murmured my father, his brow creasing with empathy. He took a bite of his own food and swallowed, before adding, “Were you tormented by those wicked children today, my dear?”
I shook my head, chewing.
“Good. I suppose the town has grown quiet following the disappearance.” He swallowed his glass of water in three small gulps, taking his dish and cutlery to one side before leaving the room.

Sucking at a piece of gristle caught in my tooth unsuccessfully, I used my little fingers to pry it out. I looked at what lay in my small hand before me; a red snippet of ribbon and a strand of long, blonde hair. I smiled, and continued eating.

Story 4: Friends Forever
Why do you continue to seek me out? You cannot find me if I do not will it. I am the night… and yet, you know I am here. I see you, shivering as I cross the room. You twitch when I slip under your bed. You can feel me. Do you feel my breath on the nape of your neck? Do you notice my nails on your flesh? Do you meet my eyes in the dark of night? Yes, you know I am here. I have always been here. Things were different when you were young, your little eyes could see me then. You would scream, and point at me, trying to hide behind the bars of your crib. You would continue to scream as your mother lifted you. It was only when she flipped the switch, and brought light into your pathetic world that I would leave. But it was no matter, for she would leave, she always left. And I would come back. You learnt quickly, bawling wasn’t going to drive me out. You decided to ignore me, to pretend I wasn’t there. Even as my greasy hair hung down over your face, and my breath rattled in your ear, still you ignored me. You became very good at it.

I tried, of course, to make myself noticed. Small things at first; a misplaced shoe, toys rolling across the floor, an open window. But this was too easy for you to ignore, too simple for you to explain. Do you remember Fluff? That putrid creature you adored so much? The one that mommy said ran away? I assure you it was in no fit state to run when I was finished with it. Do you remember little Stacey? That precious child who shared her candy with you? You always paid attention to her, you never ignored her. I hated her, pity about the accident. How unfortunate for an innocent child to fall victim to a rabid dog. How I laughed when I heard your mother say that. A rabid dog! She had no face left, you know? I got carried away, the taste of blood, the shrill screams in my ear, it overwhelmed me. But still you ignored me.

You became more withdrawn after that, spending hours on your computer, shut up in your room. It was great at first, we were closer than ever. You stayed up late, and I watched over your shoulder as you trawled the internet, researching how best to end your wretched life. You tried once too, but the rope snapped, do you remember? Well I just couldn’t let you off that easy. I couldn’t let you skip out on me. I will decide when you go; your life is mine to take only when I decide.

So little has changed since then. Sure, you got a job, you moved out, but I followed. You still sit in front of that screen every night, whittling away your time, numbing your senses, so you can drift off without suffering through those moments in between consciousness and sleep. Those moments where you catch a glimpse of me shuffling across the room, where you see the glint of my eyes and sense the chill in the room. How I savour those moments. You have forgotten me, yet you know I am here. You turn on the lights, in your bravest of moments, searching for me. But when you dissipate the dark, I too go with it, for I am the dark. I am the dark of your soul.

I will never leave, at least not alone. Oh some night you will see me, in all my horrific majesty, but I will be the last thing you see.

Story 5: The Angel
A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn’t watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn’t want children watching too much garbage). So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent’s room. Of course, the parents said it was ok, but the babysitter had one final request… she asked if she could cover up the angel statue outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, “Take the children and get out of the house… we will call the police. We do not have an angel statue.”

The police found all three of the house occupants dead within three minutes of the call. No angel staue was ever found.

More to come, Enjoy.

 

OO I HAVE ONE

Once upon a time, Nyxa ate a pineapple. Her tongue swelled up and she could barely talk because her swelled up tongue left no space in her tiny little mouth that dentists hate.

 

ONCE UPON A TIME, SLENDERMAN AND JEFF THE KILLER FOUGHT AND SLENDERMAN'S TENTACLES SLIPPED ONE BY ONE IN JEFF'S ORGANS AND CONTINUED UNTIL JEFF WAS A LIFELESS BODY.

THE END

 

PlayStation3, please do not use capital letters it makes you immature ( no offense ). The story was not bad but I need a little more details
Best regards, Rolly

 

I have a good one!

2 hours into my deep sleep I heard a voice. It wasn't a voice in my dream, but a voice right next to my ear! The voice kept whispering "I'm your host, Killer Keemstar." The whisper eventually became a yell, which became a scream. "LETS GET ROIGHT INTO THE NEWS!" I had enough! I woke up to see Keemstar with an knife in his hands. His breath wreaked of popcorn and drama. He stared into my eyes and yelled "ALEX IS A STUPID ******?" I tried to run away, but he was blocking my path. He put the knife up against my neck. I couldn't move. I tried to find something around me that would at least weaken the gnome. I looked to my left and on my bed was a pillow, not just any ordinary pillow, but a pillow with Scarce's face sewn on to it. I grabbed hold of it and smacked Keemstar in the face just as he was about to cut me. He fell over graciously and lay on the carpet. His body started to disintegrate right before my eyes. In a split second, he was gone! I thought about wtf just happened for a few minutes, then I went back to sleep with my Scarce pillow...

The End

 

A couple months after my neighbors moved out I saw lights in their house. I looked in and I saw a sexy green flash fly out of the toilet and onto the couch. Earlier that day I had got high while watching Shrek. I thought nothing of it. 1 week later I went to take a poop while watching Keemstar's videos they are really good you should sub to him. But then I got out of the bathroom. I was really hungry, but then I thought to myself "Oh **** I forgot to pray to my lord and savior," So I chose a big toe to be eat and one to pray. I did eenie meenie minie moe but eat won. I went and opened the fridge. Lord Shrek was inside. He whispered these words into my ear "You forgot something," and he grabbed my garlic and teleported away.​

THE END

 

Prepare for what will be the scariest story you'll ever hear:









Once upon a time...




RobloxianRoblox was born.
The end.

 

Also, story 2 is somewhat truthful... I'm pretty sure that if you walked into a mental asylum and asked to see the holder of light with your eyes closed, they would take you somewhere...