>FORUM GAME HORROR<
by
Cezbla
July 13, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Write the scariest horror story you can write, Inspiration by EnderPearlReaper on that amazing horror story
Rules: No Using internet stories :) Don't be rude "And the ghost killed the gay guy" because that's mean :( Try not to use bad language Scare the living crap out of us all
One night there was a big big bang, No one knew they looked out side to see a teddy bear and a little girl with curly hair on there neighbors door steps knocking and when he answered the door all they heard were the cries of the man, and that man was ivycode,
Life. Jonathan hated that word. He hated the meaning. He hated everything about life. He was abused, hated, and all that other bad stuff. One day, he decided he had enough. He recited the words "O Lord Of Hell, Great Lord! Bring Thy Soul To Your Home!" A Red an black devilish looking being appeared before his eyes. It said "Welcome Home, Johnny...." "What the hell?!" Said John's dad a he walked into John's room. "John, what's going on??!!?!?!" "Your death scene." said Jonathan.
When life destroys you, it kills you from the very soul. The usual solution is to take depression pills or try to be a happy person. I am one of those victims. However, when life destroys me, I fall... down down down I go. And I fell from a withstanding height, and now all I can see is black
Not really horror story, but it gets you in your heart.
Life. Jonathan hated that word. He hated the meaning. He hated everything about life. He was abused, hated, and all that other bad stuff. One day, he decided he had enough. He recited the words "O Lord Of Hell, Great Lord! Bring Thy Soul To Your Home!" A Red an black devilish looking being appeared before his eyes. It said "Welcome Home, Johnny...." "What the hell?!" Said John's dad a he walked into John's room. "John, what's going on??!!?!?!" "Your death scene." said Jonathan.
After months of controversy, EULA finally came. MineCraft servers were struggling to stay alive, many shut down, including the Avicus Network. SCARIEST STORY RIGHT THERE!
One night there was a big big bang, No one knew they looked out side to see a teddy bear and a little girl with curley hair on there neigbors door steps knocking and when he answered the door all they heard were the cries of the man, and that man was ivycode,
Bob was having trouble sleeping. Not because of problems, but because of a creepy noise. Every bight Bob would hear the words "Its a cooommiin." 3 days later Bob had enough. He searched for hours when he noticed his bathroom door was slightly open. He peeked inside. An old Lady was sitting on the toilet saying "its a coommmiinnn."
Bob was having trouble sleeping. Not because of problems, but because of a creepy noise. Every bight Bob would hear the words "Its a cooommiin." 3 days later Bob had enough. He searched for hours when he noticed his bathroom door was slightly open. He peeked inside. An old Lady was sitting on the toilet saying "its a coommmiinnn."
I'm a writer and I specialise in horror c: so here's one of my short stories.
8 Pages:
My fingers tremble as I grasp the handle of the weathered door
leading into the basement of our strange house. We moved here 8 years ago but I
still feel the same feeling whenever I think about what's down there. The
feeling of a cold shadow consuming me, as if the object this basement is
separating me from is something of dangerous power.
“Please be quiet, please be quiet…” I mutter nervously with my
heart in my hand.
The door popped open with a small squeak. My head rested on my
shoulders as I carefully slipped into the darkness. The candle I held tried to
fight off the dark, but its weak naked flame bent out of shape and left a swirl
of smoke. I clench my night gown. Battling my fear of the dark will hopefully
be worth it after I spill the contents of this mysterious object.
As I approach the furthest corner of the basement, I hit something
with my toe. I sprawled out onto the wall, the feeling for a switch or a button
was my biggest hope at that moment.
“Hun, where’s Mikky?”
I stood, frozen. My fear strangled me; grabbing my throat and
making me suffocate.
“Mikky? Mikky?”
I could hear my mother’s voice at the door of the basement,
followed by a few muttered words and a concerned sigh.
Curled up in the corner, hugging my legs and holding my
breath I hope they’d find the note on my bed before they find me.
“Dear, it’s ok! Mikky is at her friend’s place!” My dad calls out from my room,
directly above me.
The footsteps to the other side of the house was possibly the best sound I’ve
hear in my life.
“Where are you….?” I sing.
My fingers grab hold of a string, pulling it down, as I hoped for the best. To
my relief, a flickering light turned on revealing a box at my feet. I stared at
it, confused. It was just a brown box smothered by duct tape, postage stamps
and a plastic cover. I continued to just stare. I expected an ancient coffin
with strange words inscribed along the sides, encrusted in precious gems and
finished off with a delicate gloss. But no, it looked just like a parcel that
fell out of the back of a truck. On the wall near it were 7 pairs of hooks
nailed into the wall. The clothes that rested on the hooks were somewhat ripped
and stained with blood as if the wearers were mauled by a pack of wolves. I
swallowed the thought; this must have just been someone’s room before we moved
here. After all, this house was unoccupied for 8 years until we first moved in,
everything here was worn down and out-dated.
I bent down and ran my fingers along the top of the box, feeling for the
opening. The smell of the cardboard delighted me in a way. I slowly peeled off
the tape and lifted one of the flaps, revealing what seemed to be an old
journal containing 7 pages.
“What are,” I paused “you.”
I looked around the room. I could have sworn I heard someone’s voice. The air
felt thick but my curiosity was taking over, I couldn’t help it. The book lay
in my hands, its pages stained and its cover torn. I flipped through the pages.
Each paper looked like it had been ripped up then glued back together. I focus
my eyes on the smudged words. Day 7
I can’t escape. My sanity is draining. I can’t tell between reality and my
delusions. My hands are turning to stone; my eyes bloodshot and my bones are
brittle. He won’t leave. He follows me everywhere. I feel his cold hands covering
my face. His way of killing is strange, turning his victim into himself. The
only reason my parents couldn’t protect themselves. Now I’m stuck in a nightly
cycle of suspense and an endless life of waiting for freedom.
I drop the paper, my hands frozen. As the paper floats to the ground it turns
over, revealing more words. He will attack everyone who moves into
this house. You must leave immediately before it’s too late! You must leave
now! You must leave now! You must leave now! The words replay inside my head. An ear-piercing ringing starts, throwing
me back into a wall. I fall on the floor releasing bloodcurdling screams from
my lips. It feels like a thousand pins are being inserted into my temple. My
vision is distorted; the world feels like it’s breaking off beneath me. I grab
the piece of paper and start ripping it. The pieces lie on my lap and start to
move. They join together to form a new page. I kick the floor and reach out my
arms trying to drag myself towards the piece of paper. I hold it in my hands as words start to
appear on the page. ‘Day 8’ written
at the top. Suddenly something grabs my arms and starts pulling towards a
corner. I scream for my parents, my arms flapping about trying to break free of
the thing grabbing me. My head turns around as I see a towering shadow appear
behind me.
“Who… Who are you?!” I scream
The shadow man grins.
“Don’t you remember little girl? You were just reading about me”
I looked at my hands. Cold and heavy like solid rock. It was
time. The darkness of the night reminds me that now it was my turn. I crawl
away from my resting place and towards the book that rests peacefully in the
opposite corner. I pick up a pen lying in the crease of the book. A fresh page
lies before me, torn up and glued together. I start writing. Each word I print,
the closer I get to the next chapter. 8 long years ago I heard the moving van
pull into the driveway; the new voices of people chattering excitedly and the
footsteps on the storey above me, drawing me closer and closer towards this
night. I close the book and place it gently back inside the box. I drag my pale
body across the floor and rest against the wall, turning my head to see my
parents’ clothes hanging on the 8th pair of hooks nailed into the
wall next to me. I watch as my body slowly forms into a dark silhouette. I hear
the basement door creak open. It’s time…
I was playing Nebula on Quintus, on TeamSpeak. We were on Cyan, and Purple was swarming our base, they were all full diamonds. They Only had to break back left to win.
We built the most AMAZING defense ever. We came back strong, breaking 4/5 monuments. We were rushing, 10 full diamonds on defense. There was no stopping us. I was breaking the last monument, and...!
"Aye! Did you get it; all of it," A gruff voice called out.
"Yeah, it's right here... in my pocket," A hushed voice with a scared undertone replied.
There was a ruffle of clothing as a hand came out of a pocket gripping a a half a dozen of glowing crystals.
There was a snort. "Is this all of it?"
"No-no, i tried to get the rest but i was spotted by the things guarding the crystals. So i had to run."
"Dammit you idiot! I told you to get all of it! Even if it killed you! Now, your punishment..."
There was a loud thud as the sound of a man beating on a helpless one.
"I!-*Slap*-Told!-*Jab*-You!-*Kick*-To!*Stomp*-Get!-*Kick*-Us the FRIGGIN' CRYSTALS!"
A grunt later and the weaker male got up and dusted himself off. "You don't know what those things look like and what they do to their prey... I'm not getting involved with your company's business anymore..." The weaker one spat out blood at the stronger one's feet. Much to his chagrin. "You and your company can go to hell! It ain't worth it!"
He ran off.
"Tch, coward." The stronger one muttered. But he suddenly felt an eerie presence and a horrid reek filled his nostrils.
"He has every right to be scared... as you should be... I will be taking back the crystals... but first, i believe it is time for dinner."
I'm a writer and I specialise in horror c: so here's one of my short stories.
8 Pages:
My fingers tremble as I grasp the handle of the weathered door
leading into the basement of our strange house. We moved here 8 years ago but I
still feel the same feeling whenever I think about what's down there. The
feeling of a cold shadow consuming me, as if the object this basement is
separating me from is something of dangerous power.
“Please be quiet, please be quiet…” I mutter nervously with my
heart in my hand.
The door popped open with a small squeak. My head rested on my
shoulders as I carefully slipped into the darkness. The candle I held tried to
fight off the dark, but its weak naked flame bent out of shape and left a swirl
of smoke. I clench my night gown. Battling my fear of the dark will hopefully
be worth it after I spill the contents of this mysterious object.
As I approach the furthest corner of the basement, I hit something
with my toe. I sprawled out onto the wall, the feeling for a switch or a button
was my biggest hope at that moment.
“Hun, where’s Mikky?”
I stood, frozen. My fear strangled me; grabbing my throat and
making me suffocate.
“Mikky? Mikky?”
I could hear my mother’s voice at the door of the basement,
followed by a few muttered words and a concerned sigh.
Curled up in the corner, hugging my legs and holding my
breath I hope they’d find the note on my bed before they find me.
“Dear, it’s ok! Mikky is at her friend’s place!” My dad calls out from my room,
directly above me.
The footsteps to the other side of the house was possibly the best sound I’ve
hear in my life.
“Where are you….?” I sing.
My fingers grab hold of a string, pulling it down, as I hoped for the best. To
my relief, a flickering light turned on revealing a box at my feet. I stared at
it, confused. It was just a brown box smothered by duct tape, postage stamps
and a plastic cover. I continued to just stare. I expected an ancient coffin
with strange words inscribed along the sides, encrusted in precious gems and
finished off with a delicate gloss. But no, it looked just like a parcel that
fell out of the back of a truck. On the wall near it were 7 pairs of hooks
nailed into the wall. The clothes that rested on the hooks were somewhat ripped
and stained with blood as if the wearers were mauled by a pack of wolves. I
swallowed the thought; this must have just been someone’s room before we moved
here. After all, this house was unoccupied for 8 years until we first moved in,
everything here was worn down and out-dated.
I bent down and ran my fingers along the top of the box, feeling for the
opening. The smell of the cardboard delighted me in a way. I slowly peeled off
the tape and lifted one of the flaps, revealing what seemed to be an old
journal containing 7 pages.
“What are,” I paused “you.”
I looked around the room. I could have sworn I heard someone’s voice. The air
felt thick but my curiosity was taking over, I couldn’t help it. The book lay
in my hands, its pages stained and its cover torn. I flipped through the pages.
Each paper looked like it had been ripped up then glued back together. I focus
my eyes on the smudged words. Day 7
I can’t escape. My sanity is draining. I can’t tell between reality and my
delusions. My hands are turning to stone; my eyes bloodshot and my bones are
brittle. He won’t leave. He follows me everywhere. I feel his cold hands covering
my face. His way of killing is strange, turning his victim into himself. The
only reason my parents couldn’t protect themselves. Now I’m stuck in a nightly
cycle of suspense and an endless life of waiting for freedom.
I drop the paper, my hands frozen. As the paper floats to the ground it turns
over, revealing more words. He will attack everyone who moves into
this house. You must leave immediately before it’s too late! You must leave
now! You must leave now! You must leave now! The words replay inside my head. An ear-piercing ringing starts, throwing
me back into a wall. I fall on the floor releasing bloodcurdling screams from
my lips. It feels like a thousand pins are being inserted into my temple. My
vision is distorted; the world feels like it’s breaking off beneath me. I grab
the piece of paper and start ripping it. The pieces lie on my lap and start to
move. They join together to form a new page. I kick the floor and reach out my
arms trying to drag myself towards the piece of paper. I hold it in my hands as words start to
appear on the page. ‘Day 8’ written
at the top. Suddenly something grabs my arms and starts pulling towards a
corner. I scream for my parents, my arms flapping about trying to break free of
the thing grabbing me. My head turns around as I see a towering shadow appear
behind me.
“Who… Who are you?!” I scream
The shadow man grins.
“Don’t you remember little girl? You were just reading about me”
I looked at my hands. Cold and heavy like solid rock. It was
time. The darkness of the night reminds me that now it was my turn. I crawl
away from my resting place and towards the book that rests peacefully in the
opposite corner. I pick up a pen lying in the crease of the book. A fresh page
lies before me, torn up and glued together. I start writing. Each word I print,
the closer I get to the next chapter. 8 long years ago I heard the moving van
pull into the driveway; the new voices of people chattering excitedly and the
footsteps on the storey above me, drawing me closer and closer towards this
night. I close the book and place it gently back inside the box. I drag my pale
body across the floor and rest against the wall, turning my head to see my
parents’ clothes hanging on the 8th pair of hooks nailed into the
wall next to me. I watch as my body slowly forms into a dark silhouette. I hear
the basement door creak open. It’s time…
Omg o_o that is really awesome! And creepy and I don't know why I prefer to read these before bedtime >.<
Bob was having trouble sleeping. Not because of problems, but because of a creepy noise. Every bight Bob would hear the words "Its a cooommiin." 3 days later Bob had enough. He searched for hours when he noticed his bathroom door was slightly open. He peeked inside. An old Lady was sitting on the toilet saying "its a coommmiinnn."
Once upon a time was a child...his name was gordon. He loved avicus soo much and loved avicus formus. 1 day ago he saw D00ZiE's Post and died instantly x_x Da end :D Dooz ur criminal..Just killed a little boy :/
Once upon a time was a child...his name was gordon. He loved avicus soo much and loved avicus formus. 1 day ago he saw D00ZiE's Post and died instantly x_x Da end :D Dooz ur criminal..Just killed a little boy :/
Once upon a time was a child...his name was gordon. He loved avicus soo much and loved avicus formus. 1 day ago he saw D00ZiE's Post and died instantly x_x Da end :D Dooz ur criminal..Just killed a little boy :/
Yey 40 replys and so many views lets keep hearing scary stories
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