Like you're kissing your chick and then the phone rings. You pick up the phone and there is a voice: “What are you doing with my daughter?” You tell her and she’s like “my dad died.” SO WHO CALLED?
Worst creepypasta in the history of the Internet

Our ancestors told creepy stories by the light of a torch. We scare each other under the flickering of the monitor, and from the shadows the same monsters are looking at us as a hundred and a thousand years ago. Ghosts, devils and women hide in the shadows of cars and the wilds of the World Wide Web as easily as behind a stove or in a dark forest.

Scary stories wandering around the Internet are called “creepypasta” - from the words “creepy” (“creepy”) and “copypasta” (text that is spread across the Internet by the magical keyboard shortcuts Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V). Some of these stories are indistinguishable from those heard in the old days: the walking dead, cannibals, homicidal maniacs, cursed houses. But there are also legends that take place on the Internet itself.

Ghosts on the Internet

The easiest way to scare your neighbor with the help of high technology is a screamer (screamer). They send you a link to a photo of cute kittens. You open it without paying attention to the .gif extension, and very soon you regret it: from the depths of the picture, a terrible face with empty eye sockets jumps at you like a jack-in-the-box. If you embed such a miracle into a seemingly innocent video or game, its appearance can be accompanied by a loud scream - hence the name. A cheap trick that we have seen in a million horror films and will see in a million more - because, despite all its banality, it works.

Typical screamer.

But there are files on the Internet that are worse than the “squealers”. For example, they say that everyone who watched the video called Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv committed suicide. On YouTube, it’s not hard to find a twenty-second video of a mustachioed man staring at you through the red haze. No one has ever died from it, but this is only because the video is cut off, but if you find the full version...

Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv. If you stare too long your head will fall off

The photo smile.jpg causes epileptic seizures and insanity - if it doesn’t, then it’s not real. Those who listened to needles.mp3 begin to vomit blood. The picture burningman.jpg, once you open it, will live on your monitor forever.

Different versions of smile. jpg. I brush my teeth with Cripident toothpaste, so they are always strong and sharp!

Rumor has it that the Skinny Man was the inspiration for Hush from Doctor Who.

Now movies are being made about the Skinny Man (Slender Man, Proxy, Entity), games are being made (Slender, Slenderman’s Shadow, Slender: Source, Slendr), and countless creepypastas and fanarts have been created. And amid this creative riot, the question sounded alarmingly: what if collective inspiration and fear summoned a monster from oblivion? Before 2009, there was no Skinny Man... But what if there is now? And if there is, what other online legends could come to life?

The answer to this question is being sought by a community based on thefarmythos.com website. They collect information about all the fiends of the Network, which there is not enough space to talk about here: the Artificial Baby, the Plague Doctor, the Comb, the Nameless Child, the Mother of Snakes... And only about the Red Hand, the Black Sheet and the Green Fingers you will not find a word there.

P.S. “Depth, depth, I’m not yours...”

Science fiction writers are afraid of computers almost with more pleasure than ordinary users. And we’re not even talking about the universal plot about artificial intelligence trying to conquer the world. The horrors of computerization are much more varied.

In King’s old story “The Almighty Text Processor,” what was typed on the keyboard of an old “personal computer” began to come true. The main character, having discovered this feature in time, “erased” the unloved family from reality and replaced it with a more suitable one.

In “The Programmable Boy” by Alexander Tyurin and Alexander Shchegolev, a Soviet schoolboy came to grips with one of the first home computers - it led the alliance of pseudo-intelligent technology and electronics and nearly plunged one particular family into the abyss of materialism.

Later, when describing virtual reality, writers came up with their own folklore for it. For example, in the famous “Labyrinth of Reflections” Sergei Lukyanenko describes the legends of the ancient Fidonet network: the Invisible Boss, the Lost Point, divers dying in virtuality. And Oldie in the story “Golden Man” created a horror story based on the most real Internet reality. For them, the word spoken in forum battles suddenly gained power - and in response to “Afftar, drink poison,” the addressee ended up in the hospital with severe poisoning.

But a real study of computer folklore in science fiction is still awaiting us.

Do you often look at your reflection in shop windows or bus windows when you get home in the evening? I too, at least I watched it before...
As usual, tired and cold, I finally boarded a warm bus. Of course, there were no empty seats, but there couldn’t have been any crowding at that time either, I leaned my shoulder on the glass and took off my hood. It happens that you can look out the driver’s window all the way across the entire cabin, the view of the road is mesmerizing, or something. But now for some reason I wanted to catch my reflection in the opposite window, and that was not the case - where my reflection should have been, there was a poster of an anti-terrorist action with the heading “save your life”, a childish desire arose to add “Ctrl + S” with a marker “just for fun... I don’t have anything better to do - I’m starting to notice that I don’t bump into my reflection, it’s stupid to think about it, of course, but it’s somehow strange, you see, since last night there have been such coincidences...
Half past eight, I'm finally home! I was in a kind of cloudy state after the night shift, and the fog, an unnaturally dense fog, seemed to envelop the whole world and even seep a little into the apartment, all this made me drowsy, but I understood that I had to eat first. There were only two semi-finished cutlets left in the refrigerator from the meat store, I wasn’t particularly hungry, and I decided to eat only one, heated up the pasta, fried the cutlet, in general, everything was as usual - but the piece didn’t go down my throat.... I took a sip of coffee - it seemed disgusting , and I almost threw up. I decided that I had been poisoned by something at work, and that’s where my stupid condition came from.
- I need to change the signal on the alarm clock... what disgusting sounds wake me up... Another 10 minutes... Another 10 minutes...
- …
- !$#@&^!!! I'm late again! Crap! It seems like I went to bed early... okay, I’ll have time to drink coffee...
Coffee again turned out to be a nasty drink, but it helped me wake up from the first and last sip.
- It’s strange - since last night I haven’t had a single missed call, I haven’t been able to log into ICQ in any way... I need to call Sveta, yesterday she was turned off, maybe something happened...
As soon as I went out into the street, the rain poured down, somehow reaching the stop, I managed not to step in a puddle even once and even remained almost dry. While I was running, I saw a friend, waved my hand, but he didn’t seem to notice me.... On the bus it was quite free, but, of course, I couldn’t sit down, I put on my headphones and once again noticed that my reflection was nowhere to be found - the glass was fogged up and became frosted.
Sitting at the entrance was Uncle Lyosha, a mustachioed security guard who was just there for furniture - he never said hello back and didn’t even look up from his scanwords, it seemed like you could carry out half the factory through him unnoticed. There was no one in the workshop anymore, I was late as usual...
The work here is not tricky: press a few buttons, and the device does everything for you, you only have time to assemble and pack the finished parts... A couple of times a night, of course, room-scale force majeure events occur, but these are nuances... The main thing is that they pay regularly and life is enough, besides, I’m not responsible for anything, I work even without a temporary contract. One thing is bad - plowing for 12 hours 2/2 all alone. Previously, I used to sometimes take the boys here, they fermented beer all night, but recently this has become strict and that same Uncle Lyosha began to take his eyes off his crossword puzzles more and more often and even make rounds a couple of times a night. The shop has closed...
I always try to leave work so that I can catch the first bus and I’m always late for it, I’m freezing like a dog for another 20 minutes afterwards, so it happened this time too... Not a single call, not a single text message the whole night, but what is it? Has everyone forgotten about me? Whoever I don’t call is either busy, or doesn’t pick up, or worse, turned off for no reason, and I can’t even get into ICQ for days now, I probably need to download something with the phone or another ICQ…. This morning everyone needed somewhere and it was at fifteen minutes to seven that I remembered the strange coincidences with the reflection, but the bus was packed and the windows weren’t really visible...
Having opened the refrigerator, I was very surprised: according to my simple calculations, there should have been only one cutlet left, but there were two of them, funny, but somehow frightening, did I really dream that I fried it, but gave it to the cat... Almost nothing for a whole day I didn’t eat and my appetite was brutal. I fried some potatoes with these cutlets, the milk surprisingly didn’t turn sour in 3 days, it was a great morning! But again the piece wouldn’t go down my throat and the milk, although it didn’t smell like anything, seemed to have disappeared two weeks ago. All this took away my appetite...
“We finally need to fill the refrigerator,” I thought...
There are only a few days left until salary, I found out from the security guard that the money has already arrived, all that remains is to go get it, you don’t have to fear anything and stop saving so much. Only 5500 rubles, two utilities and a loan - a thing, half more groceries, normal! Here he still remains a fool!
There were a lot of people in the bank from somewhere in the morning. I noticed a familiar face in the crowd; I didn’t want to make my way through the crowd and shouting to say hello was also somehow awkward, although I really wanted to chat. I haven’t said a word to anyone for at least 2 days, but you can chat with this friend for hours even when you’re tired, drunk, or haven’t slept for a week, apparently she has that kind of energy... Having finished with all the payments, I headed to the supermarket and ran into her at the entrance with that friend, he just bumped into her, but she, without saying a word, hurried on. Of course, I said hello and even shouted after her, but she didn’t even turn around, strange.
Having collected groceries and something else useless, on the way home I remembered my old comrade Vitalik - I need to call him, it seems that now we have the same weekend, I really want to talk to someone, drink beer, otherwise I live like a zombie - work and home - work and I even go to ICQ because I’m used to it, but it looks like “it’s the way it should be.” I want something exciting, but I can’t imagine what... Last week I went to a rock concert, but there was no pleasure, everything seemed to be the same as before, everything was great and the sound guy set everything up and the boys played great. But for some reason it’s boring... Maybe I grew out of rock concerts? About a month ago, Vetal and I went to a club, if before I could get drunk there, jump up and somehow relax, then this time I had no desire and in general it looked as if this trip to the club would be schedule - we called, got to the club, got drunk to a certain point, tried to pick up a couple of girls, treated them, then lost them, caught up with beer, went to my place to sleep off - that's it! Emotionless! I understand that I am a “zombie”...
With this unflattering thought, I turned on the TV, which confirmed my conclusions. No, not an option! I don’t want to sleep - I slept for 5 hours at work. We need to do something.
- Why can’t I call anyone?!
Sveta has a funny melody on her dialer, while I was listening, I remembered how I looked for it and set it to ring, and Sveta had three phones with different operators and each had their own... They killed the whole evening so that all SIM cards would have this song.
- Exactly! Maybe she'll take it from MTS?
The melody predictably stopped at the place where it should have stopped...
- Okay, I’ll go to Connect, I’ll sit in contact - maybe I’ll find someone there to chat or meet with.
In the Internet cafe, in addition to the admin, two schoolchildren were sitting, skipping classes, and playing some kind of strategy game. The administrator was an old friend of mine, although we didn’t communicate, we knew each other’s names and always said hello. But not this time - he looked at me as if I were a visiting client he didn’t know, and it even seemed like he was addressing me on a first name basis. Strange.
Of the more than three dozen friends this morning, none were online. After reading jokes and watching a couple of stupid videos about drug addicts, I went outside. Sveta was walking on the opposite side of the road, I was happy and shouted to her, but she didn’t hear and I ran after her, while I was crossing the road, she disappeared, she was nowhere to be found. I called her again, but no one answered the phone...
It was freezing outside, but it wasn’t cold, probably because it was completely calm, and I decided to take a walk - maybe I’ll think of something. The already boring OFE Down system is playing in the headphones, there is a pack of cigarettes and a couple of hundred dollars in my pocket, but the mood is somehow strange. Maybe due to the fact that I haven’t eaten for a long time, this has already happened to me... after an hour or two of such a walk, I went to a familiar eatery for coffee and saw an old friend, we used to live next door.
- Hello! How are you?
“Hello,” and the former neighbor, without raising his eyes, swam to the exit.
They're having a flash mob, or what?!!!
Mom doesn’t answer the phone either, I need to go. On the bus I again remembered about the reflection and again in its place there was a poster of some store, and it was light now... Mom wasn’t at home - they were probably called to work. She was working a couple of blocks away on something called pillow refinishing, where the lint from your pillow is dried, fluffed, and sewn into a new material. If only I could be updated like this...
In winter there are few clients, and my mother did not work every day, but there was no schedule. By the time I got to her work, I saw a couple of old acquaintances from afar, but they didn’t notice me - so much the better, I haven’t communicated with these gopniks for several years, they’re just unpleasant to me.
Mom was not there, and the phone was still silent, I began to get nervous. I decided to return home, and on the way I bought fish for the cat in the pavilion - I wanted to please the little animal. The front door reflected the entire street, but not me! It came quickly - my shadow blocked the reflection. I didn’t stand at the door and look for an angle from which I could see myself.
The cat, as always, was happy to see me, but behaved somehow strangely. The cat was always happy to see me back, even if I went out to the store for half an hour, but recently she reacted very violently and couldn’t calm down for a long time, and it’s still the same now. I put fish on her, went out into the corridor to turn off the light and looked in the mirror…………………………….
My body shook with a powerful single spasm, it seemed that at that moment I was in weightlessness, a moment later pain came, hellish pain! An electric current was hitting me, it felt like my chest was going to melt or catch fire! But I was interested in my reflection, for some reason it was very important to me, I tried to open my eyelids to look at the reflection, but I saw a bright light and then it all ended. I was knocked out and fell into a peaceful sleep.
I don’t remember what I dreamed, you know how it happens. My mother was sitting next to the hospital bed, when I woke up, she started wailing loudly and crying, Sveta ran into the door. Later I found out that there was an accident at work, I was seriously injured and after 3 days, some kind of dangerous coma, I had clinical death, but now everything is behind me.
Now everything will be different.

I cannot describe the determination it has taken to get this accomplished, but I finally have control. I must thank this one body for allowing me to touch the world and deliver this message. Given the situation, I will be brief with my messages until I am stronger. My name was Jacob, and I died in an accident. I’ve since come to refer to myself by a different name and I simply refer to myself as One. Before my death, I remember that I was traveling on a long road, the I-10, and I was going to Arizona on my motorcycle when it happened. The courage to look back on this is something I didn’t think I had, but it must be known. I have to share this.

My bike was working fine as it always did after my tireless hours of working on it, but when I saw that sign on the side of the road I just had that feeling that something was wrong. A warm welcome to the Grand Canyon state, just before the unthinkable happened. The sign had a star I think, sitting on a blue background. The colors don’t matter I guess, but I felt a strange force pulling me for just that instant. During my distraction, it was a dip in the road that took me down. The wheel slammed into the large hole in the road before I saw the ground coming towards me. When it hit, I felt my skin tear and my bones break from the impact. It felt so terrible to feel my blood leave, but still I felt the pulling sensation trying to drag me down long after I came to rest.

With every beat of my frantic heart it got colder and the colors faded. Even this free mind aiding me in recounting this experience is shaking in discomfort. Nobody likes the thought of death, but the obsession naturally skews the understanding of what comes after. I always thought that intelligence and strength might fade after this, but I was wrong. As I lay on the ground with my life and blood leaving, I remember the fear that settled in with just as much vigor as the pain. Just when I thought it was over though, the ground broke open beneath me and I fell. This may perhaps be important to you if you read this but I don’t know yet if it is the same for all. I felt cold, falling down there past the ground. It was like the world was hollow and waiting to pull me in. Down further into that thin shell I could look back and see the remnants of daylight as I clung to my memories. I was scared when I felt a black webbing wrap around me to hold me still. It’s simply so hard to describe this part! The net that ensnared me felt alive somehow, and it read every thought that passed through my mind and the whole of my consciousness. As strange as it might sound, it made me feel valuable to have been saved from falling further. If I'd gone any deeper surely there'd be less to save. So many questions mixed within that fear, and that was just the beginning of my journey. I can feel the fatigue of this borrowed mind starting to rise, so I will have to let go for now. Do not worry, I will reach out again I promise. You all will see the truth as I have, or so I hope.

I am One, and I will return.

After my last entry, I imagine there might be some that might make speculations about me. I must stress that you do not try to think of me as I was. You still have an impact on me even as I am now. The last time I believe I was sharing the details and experience of my death. I spared some of the details of that passage from life into this place, but I will happily share with you the beauty of that net that saved me from the fall. It was the only light I saw, that strange web sporadically illuminated by pulses of light. It was everywhere it seemed, but it could not shield me from the terror of that cold and dark filling in between. It did not coincide with those old depictions of heaven or hell. My instincts told me to be patient, and I was. I KNEW something was coming, but by no means was I prepared for what came.

The beast that came to me was not at all human, not that I really expected it to be. The many legs that it had shook the web that held me. Yes, it was like an insect but different. A body made of slick black material like wet black clay, and it was at least twice the size of me! If I’d still had a heart then it would have surely been racing as I saw my savior for the first time. Only when it wrapped those slender hands around my form did I realize that I was fading. The terror from seeing this horned things face as it shoved its sunken features close to me was a thrill to surpass anything I’d seen in my living days. Now I must pause to stress this. If you are as lucky as me to be accepted, do NOT look away from them, and do not struggle or fight back. The look in those eyes and the feeling it breathed into me was truly a gift.

What came next may be hard to deal with or imagine for you but this is all part of a great process, and a necessary one. What I felt seeing into the remainder of my being was enough to highlight every one of my feelings and as I looked into the eyes for what felt like days it was like the entirety of my combined experience was laid before this savior to see. Again, to try and withhold anything is a mistake and entirely unnecessary. By the time it was over I felt myself condense and grow closer to this being. In just the same time that I had begun to admire its form I slipped in whole past those jaws and I was drawn inside. As frightening it is a concept for oneself to be consumed, you must go with this.

Once inside that domain, I came to realize it was a haven for me and that darkness that waited for me could not tear at my mind anymore. There I was with my savior, wondering what would come next. Naturally, he took me away and finally we departed from that lingering speck of the world that I knew. Inside I could feel the desires of that beastly figure just the same as my own. He seemed to enjoy my company, but at the same time I could feel that he was afraid. Something was coming for us. Before sharing with you the details of our escape, I will let this kind soul rest. Once more, I will return and share more, in hopes that you make it through your journey as I have.

I am One, and I was saved.

As I settled in the body of my savior, we fled away towards safety. The longer we stayed in one place, the worse the cold got. That web that had ensnared me was vast and so intricate, serving just the same as a foothold for the one who had harvested me. I watched on, through his eyes no less as he grasped at those glowing strands and yanked himself further along. It was like a deep and dark cave, illuminated by each move that was made. But it was then that I noticed the web breaking apart behind us and that overwhelming sensation of dread that we both shared. Amid my contemplation, it happened. A form both seen and felt appeared far too close to us. It was a dark blur at first but in the moment that it slammed into us I saw its face and I felt my mind jostled by what I can only say is ultimate fear. It wrestled violently with my savior, the face changing violently in subtle adjustments just to fashion itself into a visage that would horrify me. Gnarled and twisted limbs slashed violently at us both and an abysmal maw spread wide to howl in contempt at our resistance. At the time, I found it quite strange that I was growing attached to this entity that had consumed me. But as I saw the fury that lay behind this assault I knew I had to at least have my mind there to support the one that now gave me shelter.

I gave a silent scream each time that assailant tried to invade the body. I knew it wanted to steal me away, and for purposes that may be far less beneficial to my own being. During that exchange, I still questioned why I might be so important that these two would be fighting over me. It certainly hadn’t been long after my death and the meaning behind this all was something I did not yet know. By this point I had to distract myself further with my own thoughts as every time I dared to look at our assailant’s eyes I felt myself being yanked away. It was at this point that I realized it, that my savior needed me in this. Working together with him, I did what I could to reach out to that awful beast and grasp firmly at its form. As soon as I touched the exterior it was not a material sensation that I felt, but a wave of utter hatred and contempt instead. For reasons that were not clear to me at the time, this was a good sign.

This haven had been given to me and I was not going to have it taken from me, nor would I see harm come to my savior. In tandem we thrashed with all our might and tore away at that putrid body before us, crushing whatever we could grab at. As we pulled away, chunks of that horrid beings essence was left lingering between our fingers and was swiftly cast away. But as each portion of that body was tossed out into the deep emptiness, it held firm in place. Oddly enough, the pieces of what I managed to tear away started to change into an image that I knew better than anyone else. It was almost like tossing paint onto a canvas to create a picture that just about formed itself in the darkness. Slowly the scene was revealed to me, the very house that I remember growing up in. I remembered it by the wooden staircase that I so often ran up and down as a child and the old worn out couch that was given to my parents by my uncle. It was such an odd shade of green there was no surprise why he didn’t want it.

So, I continued to use the body of the fallen beast after it hung in stillness to paint a home for myself and my host. As the moments turned into hours I still saw the piles of what I thought to be fleshesce into hardwood floors and even warmth in the air. It occurred to me then, that this place was a struggle for dominance not in strength of body, but in strength of mind. The destruction of one body becomes the strength of the victor’s mind.

I am One, and I found home.

It was not an easy task getting through this time. I fought through the tumultuous mind of a drunkard to suppress his regrets and calm him enough to get this message out. At this point, such worries seem to not resonate as much with me anymore if they even do at all. It is all part of the transition. For the sake of continuing my story, I’ll return to the safe thoughts of the home that I’d created. Of course it was not the same as the actual house I’d lived in. No streams of welcomed daylight to pour in through the windows in the morning, just encroaching darkness that seemed to threaten the very thought of venturing outside. Though I’d ​​grown accustomed to it, I still noticed that I inhabited the body of my kind savior. He’d already done so much for me. Even now I will admit that I was not prepared for what came next.

Once comfortable with the stability of my self-created realm, my home, we took the time to calm both our minds over those memories I’d had in the place. His clawed hands ran smoothly across the walls and explored all there was, savoring every detail. It might seem silly but that very experience was a treasure. Eventually we found ourselves venturing into the bathroom to encounter something that was quite staggering to me at the time. The mirror. I saw him in clearer detail this time, perhaps due to the contrast with familiar things I knew better. His body was much bigger than I saw before, a lengthy dark torso rising up nearly to the ceiling so that he ended up hunched over a bit to be seen in the reflective surface. The exterior had a smooth and glossy consistency to it, like black porcelain. And up across his stomach to those elegantly curved horns atop his head there were ridges and grooves as if an obsessed artist had crafted him like some work of pottery. His hands were large and had lengthy fingers big enough to wrap around the cracked sink that we leaned into. He looked so alien, yet I was not afraid.

Then it came, the time when I was released and allowed to be on my own again. Almost like a smooth exhale, I felt myself in all entirety expelled from my savior’s body. For some time, I felt I was naught but a dark vapor that hung in the air. Soon though, with the strength of my own mind I brought myself together in a way so intricate. I could feel his pride in my success as I used the strength of my own memories, my own consciousness to envision my core as it solidified. I took from that empty void and crafted slowly my arms and legs, the memory of gravity drawing me down so that I had to reach out for some hold on the wall to support myself. I looked out to see my own claws scratching at the tile walls and the dark black hue of the appendage that I had made. I did not breathe, but found each sight and touch to be my sustenance as it strengthened my body. At the first sight of my own face, I stared intently at my own eyes, sunken pits that held luminescent pools of vibrant indigo color They shined brightly enough I was sure that had there been no light it would have reflected off the walls. Opening my mouth, I saw past a jagged maw to perceive nothing. An empty void it appeared, seeming to pull in from the stability of my home, devouring it. I quickly shut my mouth and learned my lesson. Do not whimsically draw from what exists and forsake it. Value that is created, and fight for it. I looked to my savior finally, and I could feel his love, and his pride.

I am One, and I am reborn.

The mind that I’ve inhabited this time is that of a truly spiteful man. It’s not only the thoughts that rub off on my own mind but the possessions he holds around his home. Regardless, there are too many things for me to share for me to be worried about it. All that matters is the future of anyone who might encounter these writings. I consider myself fortunate that I’ve retained my understanding of human technology and even luckier that I found one of the living to compile these writings for you. As I remember, I left off sharing my experience of rebirth. It took some time to come to terms with my new body, something that would certainly give me nightmares should I have known of it before my death. I wandered about in my reconstructed home for some time in thought, occasionally reaching the perimeter and opening the front door. Naturally on the other side there was a looming darkness that felt like cold tar sticking to me, sapping away my thoughts the longer I stared at it. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my savior and I found a way to move on.

I remember a few times sitting down at the dining room table with my savior, comforted by a strange lantern he’d fashioned that cast a soft purple glow over the glossed oak wood surface. We gathered around it like moths to a flame. During that time he spoke to me about his own lingering memories without uttering a word that I knew. Conversation was not carried out by a solid language but more by a flowing dark stream, transferring information directly to me via strange whispers from his abyssal maw which let me see his past and hear his thoughts. By that point I cherished every word and every thought he shared. He spoke sparingly to describe his own battles with this dark realm after his own death. A life truly is not so different from my own though he was not human. Some stories even revealed his subtle envy of the world I lived in, as the one he came from was darker and desolate but life-bearing enough to allow his kind to grow to some level of self-inquisition. They did not obsess so much with personal success but did take the time to speculate over their impact on life itself. As much as I’d like to recount his tales in full detail I must continue with the story. Even in the safe zones close to you the beasts in the dark realm can still hear each word. The dangers of a single word could have led the both of us back into that horrid battle. That's what it is, all of this. It is a great war that has existed since the beginning of consciousness itself.

After some time taking shelter, I naturally found myself with the desire to see the warmth of the world again. No matter whether or not I was able to fully return to it I so desired to experience it again. It was surely time to move on anyway since I could feel the safety of my home starting to crumble. From previous words that had been exchanged, I knew that my savior had much more to show me. Rather than leaving me to wander out on my own, he instead led me once more safely onward. I remember his mention of some method he used to cast his voice in distraction, but I knew that with each passing moment that there was a constant desire of those unknown horrors beyond to destroy us. For now, I will release my hold on this living body. My words will be with you again soon.

I am One, and I wander the unknown.

I continue to get more skilled at touching the minds of the living ones, but I must confess a failure on my part. In my desire to share this story I realize the impact that I’ve left upon the greater part of their minds. I never meant to take away a peaceful night’s sleep from anyone that aided me. What I will soon share might do such a thing anyway but some things need to be understood.

It wasn’t long after some further conversations with my savior that the walls of my home crumbled further, all because of the very nature of the place it was suspended in. Remember always that there are things that simply cannot be changed, forces that demand your respect. Numerous things were taught to me by that point, so I continued to listen intently as my savior took the lead and ventured out the door of my home with me. His mind was strong enough to give further solidity to such a malleable and dangerous realm, leaving us with a slick and rather grotesque dark fleshy mass of a pathway but a pathway nonetheless. I reluctantly left that home I’d made behind us, surely to be consumed at some point. I wasn’t sure where exactly we were going to be heading in the journey to get back to the warmth of the Earth. It felt like days, possibly months, or what I would perceive as that span of time that we walked on that cold road. I occasionally caught glances from him along the way amidst a sporadic few words here and there, almost like he was waiting on me for something.

I thought long and hard on the beauty of my world, the portions of it that I had seen at least and found that I strangely remembered more than I should have. The climate of the dark realm was changing so strangely and I soon started to smell something. Each breath I took revealed whispers of minds which were not my own. It could only mean one thing, that we were drawing close to the minds of the living. I fortunately remembered the impact of my actions, knowing that by embracing the thoughts of others I consumed and drew attention. While it was good to keep this in mind, there were protections put in place in this area to lessen my impact when I was that close. There was a strange feature along our path that I’d seen, some ornately carved stone-like object multiple times bigger than me that hung in the darkness. It hummed softly in a way that somehow comforted me and took my thoughts away from the danger. At the time I didn’t understand exactly what they were or who had put them there but I would gain that knowledge soon enough.

As we continued further I found myself wanting to be back more and more, eventually laying my eyes on the first signs of the living. It was truly a horrifying sight to see as I looked up from the path. My death had been swift enough to not leave me in such turmoil, but what I saw made me feel pity. An elderly one still clinging to the threads of humanity, quite literally hung from above where a light was softly cast down over him. Arms and legs hanging like deadweight while up above, the same withered body lay quietly in a hospital bed. From the living one, dark streams of flesh hung down and wrapped firmly around the beating heart of the one hanging below who surely at this point would have chosen to drop down into the darkness. I remember the knowing glance my savior gave me before I made my move to ascend through that narrow path between realms.

Clawing at the walls, I soon felt myself gaining purchase on the smooth tiled floor. Standing up, I could see the faces of the poor man’s family in the room looking over him. I saw a strange move from what was surely the granddaughter. She sensed me. In my disgust over the others who refused to let the old man free, I made my way over towards the young one who still stirred in discomfort knowing there was yet another in the room now. It was only by the teaching of my savior that I knew what had to be done and how to do it. I could not change the world quite the same as she could, and so I instead acted to guide the poor child who did not wish to see the suffering of her family any more than I did. A light touch of my finger to her forehead was all it took for her to issue a request for food. Not more than a few minutes later, she was left in the room alone while her parents left to get what she needed. That was all the time needed for the young one to find the power source and disable the machine that kept her loved one in such perpetual torment.

I did not wish for this to be the first sight I encountered upon returning to the world, but after seeing the old man like that it weighed so heavily on me. As I remember my own passage from life, I knew it to be a delicate transition that could go so wrong. A mind not preserved and protected thereafter could surely become monstrous and broken to the point where it would only entertain the whims of the destructive realm that lay just on the other side. In life there is beauty, and in death there is unity.

I am One, and I returned to the living world.

This time was a little difficult for me due to the pathways through which my stream of thought usually makes its way through the gnarled vessels of this place. Perhaps my focus on the improvement of such an ability is part of the reason why I still persist in this place. Regardless, I know that my last message may have been a little troubling to a living mind. It was simply something I felt was important to be known about the human disability to let go of certain things. I’ve spent much time now thinking on the obsessions of the life that I used to know. From that perspective, it might make sense to keep loved ones around longer than their bodies can allow, but this merely stems from a misunderstanding of the truth. In any case, I feel it is time to continue towards issues that are just as important.

My emergence back into the living world, or at least a reality that was somewhat parallel to it, revealed something that I still find horrifying to this very moment. Wandering the halls of the hospital, I soon walked out into the light outside. Everything seemed natural with the busy activity in such an establishment and a world alight with others going about their typical lives outside. With a greater focus placed upon the details, I noticed that there were imperfections. Trees that did not properly sway with the wind, words of mouth that simply did not carry the proper inflection. It did not take me long to realize that this was a realm constructed solely by the conscious minds of the living. At the risk of breaking off on a tangent, I must stress to you the power that you hold. Your perception, your ideas, and the way you view the world brings life to this deep void that beings such as myself come to dwell in. Not only that but it allows a connection to be made between this deep void and your reality. It is part of a great design set forth by minds vastly greater than my own. As I am now I am a simple warrior, out to save what I can so that these beacons of light in the darkness might not be torn asunder by those who I and others simply don’t make it to in time. It is up to me to reach them before they fall through the cracks.

Regardless, my findings further led me to come to terms with a much larger problem. For what must have been the relative span of a few days I just waded through the tapestry woven by living minds to see the world that they knew. There were some things not visible to them that I was most certainly able to see. I passed by mountains, skyscrapers, slums and palaces in my wanderings but it was not until that moment I saw that lone figure sitting in a park that I first saw one of them. My first encounter was after I saw a middle-aged man sitting on a worn-down bench of dried wood looking like it should have been dismantled years ago. He wore slacks and a shirt with colors that clashed horribly but my focus was more drawn to the figure beside him. In all honesty, it was hardly a figure at all, but instead a dark patch which looked like a hole in the air itself. It had just enough definition for there to be what looked like a head and mouth that were leaned close to the man’s face. By now I’ve described to you the dangers of pulling and feeding blindly from consciousness but that’s exactly what this thing was doing! It breathed in staggered gulps of the innocent human’s mind through thin banner-like streams while he sat there in ignorance with a blank stare on his face. And worse yet I could tell that what was taken away was replaced with the seed of what might grow into the likeness of another monster such as the one that promptly attacked me after my death.

It pains me greatly to say but as I remember I was entirely at a loss during this first encounter when it came to forcing this entity away. It knew I was there and it stared me down while committing this act, my essence touched by a cold that made me want to race back to my savior who might have known better than I. I realize now that it was significant that I encounter this on my own so that I would know the terror and the threat of these anomalies. It is with that experience that I can tell you that they affect you too. I do not say this to incite fear within your heart but instead out of my desire for you to be prepared and aware. It is likely that you’ve felt it too as lingering sensations and memories from my life were stirred up from this encounter. Those moments of pause and uncertainty in life where you lose sight of your goals, and simply even lose track of what you are doing at the time. It is not some condition to be diagnosed or some physical flaw within your mind or body. It's them. These mind-consuming entities that pose just as much a threat to me as they do to you. If you feel it, clinging to your thoughts and fight harder than ever to give life to your memories and desires. But in this pursuit, do not focus on them or victory will not be yours. Your mind and will are the treasures and it is up to you to proclaim at this moment that these things are yours and yours alone.

I am One, and I know the enemy.

I am fortunate that I have been able to reach out to you, all who might read this and understand my words. Sadly, as more time passes here I see the threat of destruction looming and I simply cannot afford to keep this up. After my last entry, I was attacked once again. There is no shelter in this broken void beyond what you and the lucky others construct. Here the things that matter are unity and having others around to fight with you in the dark. I still remember times in life wondering what awaited me after my own demise and what others even wanted me to believe along the way. It seemed reasonable to want there to be some reward at the end of it all, a paradise. But such a thing does not exist. In a place of the dead and wandering like this, all that matters is self-preservation just as it does for those who might come to read these very words. I only hope that I might once again become so privileged to wander on solid ground in the light again, like you can. Whether or not that is the case, I will continue fighting and trying to survive. I’ve come to embrace certain patterns now, traveling to the deeper parts of this seemingly endless realm and then returning to the more welcoming scenery of the Earth. Upon coming back to my savior along the way I could see other worlds too but naturally the one I’d known in life was the one to bring me the most comfort.

All in all, I guess my message does have its purpose. Intensifying this effort, I simply wanted to prepare others for what was coming to them. It could certainly be the case that my message will not even get through and will just linger in some faux reality, but I had to try. I do not claim to be a master at understanding this existence of mine and this strange place but I know enough. It is a struggle just like so many other things and I refuse to let myself become one of those tormented beasts of the dark. I sincerely hope that the transfer goes well for whoever might read this and that you are prepared to embrace this new reality. If you make it, perhaps we might even meet along the way. And in the unfortunate case that you fail and are devoured and controlled by one of those horrible things, I imagine that we may be at odds during such a meeting. Either way, I will continue to fight for what keeps me safe and maybe I will learn why I’ve come to bare such a nightmarish appearance. I must continue to indulge my own curiosity. Should you come one day to me on the wrong side, I promise it will not be easy. I will clash with anyone that threatens my conscious mind, my savior, or the havens that I’ve constructed along the way. So, in parting, I wish you luck and encourage you to know your place in this great battle. Be prepared.

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However, unlike urban legends, which are passed down by word of mouth with changes made by each new storyteller, “network” stories, thanks to written form, were copied without changes. Another distinctive feature of them was the rich use of the so-called. markers of fear - phrases that indicate the fear experienced by the characters. One of the first such stories to become widely known was “Ted the Caver,” written in the form of blog entries and posted on the Internet in 2001.

The terms “creepypasta” and “creepy stories” became widespread in 2006 thanks to the English-language imageboard 4chan. Most of the “classic” stories, written on behalf of an anonymous author and positioned as stories from the lives of imageboard users, were published in the section /x/ dedicated to paranormal phenomena. Threads dedicated to such stories are called creepy threads. Creepypasta quickly became one of the most popular genres of online folklore.

A separate popular subgenre has become stories that, first of all, cause a smile, rather than horror. These include stories written ridiculously poorly or written deliberately poorly for the purpose of trolling, parodies, stories at the intersection of the humorous genre, etc. In RuNet, the term NPCHDH arose to name them - an abbreviation for the phrase “so bad that it’s even good.” Russian parody creepypastas often exploit cliches of horror stories from children's folklore of the second half of the 20th century. In the English-language segment, “Soviet (Russian) creepypasta” is widespread, parodying at the same time classic creepypasta plots and the so-called. “cranberry” - exaggerated stereotypes of anti-Soviet and anti-Russian propaganda.

Despite the fact that creepy stories were initially distributed completely anonymously, in the 2010s, in both the English and Russian segments of the Internet, many authors appeared who used a permanent pseudonym, and sometimes did not even hide their real name.

Currently, there are separate sites on the Internet that are collections of creepy stories. On some of them, in addition to samples of online folklore, you can also find stories by modern professional writers in the horror genre and works of classical literature that foreshadowed horror literature.

Examples of characteristic characters and phenomena

Typically, creepy stories take place in urban settings, and paranormal phenomena are not associated with traditional mysticism. Readers are also interested in stories in which the mystical element is kept to a minimum, which allows the story to be close to realistic. Some stories are completely in the style of splatterpunk and do not contain a paranormal component at all.

Some famous creepypasta characters

Frequently occurring phenomena in creepypastas

• Anomalous video games: indie game "Theater" (eng. The Theater), NES Godzilla - a pirated version of the NES game Godzilla: Monster of Monsters (English), Sonic.exe - a hacked PC version of the 16-bit game Sonic the Hedgehog from 1991, Toonstruck 2 - a real-life unreleased continuation of the Toonstruck quest (English), mod Jvk1166z.esp of the game The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, location “Lavender Town” in Pokémon Red and Green, etc.
• TV channels and websites containing snuff videos: Caledon Local 21, “Where the Bad Kids Go,” “Normal Porn for Normal People,” etc.
• "Lost Episodes"(eng. Lost episode) - lost or removed from public access images, audio and video materials or applications that contain anomalous or extremely scary materials: the TV show “Candle Cove”, the unreleased episode “Squidward’s Suicide” ( English Squidward's Suicide) animated series "SpongeBob SquarePants", unreleased Disney cartoon "Suicide Mouse" about Mickey Mouse, videos "Grifter" and Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv, application BarelyBreathing.exe, etc. . .
• "Don't look back"- stories in which there is a “breaking the fourth wall” effect. For example, the narrator suddenly informs the reader that under no circumstances should he turn around at the moment, otherwise something irreparable will happen.

Related Settings

The creepypasta genre has influenced some modern settings of collective online creativity:

Creepypasta as a fandom

In the early 2010s, variations secondary to the original creepypastas began to actively spread - additions, sequels, prequels, reworkings, etc. Against this background, a fandom emerged on the Internet associated with human and anthropomorphic creepypasta characters. Thanks to him, a specific interpretation of the term “creepypasta” arose, meaning precisely such characters, and not the genre of Internet folklore that gave birth to them. A large amount of fan art, including fan fiction, has been created within its framework. The most popular characters were Jeff and Slenderman. However, this fandom has gained notoriety as a refuge for mentally unstable teenagers and is considered “toxic” both in Western countries and in Russia.

Negative attitudes towards both the fandom and the term “creepypasta” are also fueled by media publications in which creepypasta is mentioned in the same breath as “groups of death” and the game “Blue Whale”. At the same time, publications may contain gross factual errors: for example, creepypasta can be called a type of anime.

Crimes

see also

Notes

1. What Does copypasta Mean? | Slang by Dictionary.com (English) , Everything After Z by Dictionary.com. Retrieved October 21, 2018.
2. Jessica Roy. Behind Creepypasta, the Internet Community That Allegedly Spread a Killer Meme (English) , Time(3 June 2014).
3. In the black-black city: What is creepy and what do you eat it with? (undefined) . Habr(October 7, 2011).
4. E. G. Matveeva. When the soul is in the heels and the eyes are on the forehead: markers of fear and modes of involvement in children's scary stories // Bulletin of the Russian State University for the Humanities. Series “History. Philology. Culturology. Oriental Studies: magazine. - 2017. - No. 12 (33). - pp. 120-129.
5. Darcie Nadel. A Brief History of Creepypasta(English) . TurboFuture - Technology(1 November 2016).
6. (undefined) . Creepypasta - Paranormal stories and short horror microfiction.
7. T. A. Mirvoda. Children's scary stories as an object and form of parody in Runet folklore // Bulletin of the Nizhny Novgorod University. N.I. Lobachevsky. Philology: magazine. - 2018. - No. 4. - pp. 206-214.
8. T. A. Mirvoda. Parodies of creepypasta as a component of terrible online folklore // Bulletin of Perm University. Russian and foreign philology: journal. - 2018. - T. 10, No. 3. - pp. 138-148.
9. Lucia Peters. (undefined) . Bustle(25 December 2015).
10. Category:Stories of participants (undefined) . .
11. Category:Literature (undefined) . Darkopedia - Encyclopedia of Horror.
12. (undefined) . 4stor.ru - Scary stories.
13. 10 creepily believable internet horror stories (undefined) . Pabli - daily selections.
14. Arseny Krymov. Creepypasta: legends and horrors of the Internet (undefined) . Fantasy world(May 20, 2013).
15. Annalee Newitz. Who is "Jeff the Killer"? And is his picture haunted by a real death?(English) . Gizmodo - We come from the future.(5 August 2013).
16. Polina Kormshchikova. . 10 most interesting horror stories on the Internet (undefined) . Private Correspondent(November 18, 2014) .
17. Maxim Staborn. Rake is a creature discovered in the vicinity of Birobidzhan. Rake Man (undefined) . fb.ru(April 23, 2015).
18. Mark Hill. The lingering appeal of Pokémon's greatest ghost story(English) . Kill Screen(25 February 2016).
19. Patricia Hernandez. NES Horror Legend Is Turning Into A Real Game(English) . Kotaku - The Gamer's Guide(5 June 2015).
20. Grant Pardee. How Sonic.exe went from a terrifying tale to the butt of furry jokes(English) . The Daily Dot(29 May 2017).
21. Christopher Gates. Gaming bombs that somehow became cult classics (undefined) . SVG - Video game lists, features, videos and news.
22. Austin Considine. Bored at Work? Try Creepypasta, or Web Scares(English) . The New York Times(12 November 2010).

You're the one who loves all kinds of devilry, aren't you? Do you want me to throw some material?

With these words, my colleague Artem, an elderly man with a technical education and a very limited imagination, began his story. What I mean is that the story he tells has no chance of being fictional.

[Read completely]

Jeff is a medical killer

Jeff the Medical Killer.
Hello, fans of the "creepypasta" fandom. You all know and love Jeff the Killer, of course, unless your name is Jane Arkensaw. The story of this character is well-read, fans can retell it by heart, reading it with expression in different voices. Many people want to meet Jeff in real life, make friends with him and go into the sunset, someone calls him at night in the entrance, posting notes on the walls (and this is already a plagiarism of Slenderman). On VKontakte, on deviantart and other resources you can find a huge amount of art of various styles, starting with “my three-year-old sister draws better” and ending with “I’m a specialist in portraits.” In most cases, our favorite psycho is portrayed as a kind of prince with perfect white skin, lush black hair and a sweet smile, which is complemented by a sloppy laceration. In fan fiction, almost ninety-nine percent of the time, he is a typical sweet anime boy. Of course, the creator of this wonderful character is just great, we are all grateful to him, but! A huge, huge BUT with a billion exclamation marks! Why didn't he bother to think if this was possible? And the most interesting thing is that among the fans no one thinks about it either! So now we will sort out all the doubtful points