☠✖ THE original Gaia Creepypasta thread ✖☠

[puddingdear101]

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there was a man i couldn't see
i wish he would stop staring at me
oh why oh wont he go away
where is he, why can't he stay?
maybe because i'm insane
said the man who was insane
but who is the man who is not there?
i don't know, maybe you need a scare
because if the man is not yourself,
you should look behind yourself
because the man who was not there
really likes a real good scare
actually he says
you should not look
because i may be in that book
that's lying open on your floor
just because I'm in the path of your door.
i saw a man just yesterday
who was not there.
how I'd wish he'd go away.
maybe i really am insane
or maybe its you who is insane.

sweet dreams.

[puddingdear101]

When I was in the 5th grade, our class would get to spend a week at a camp. Only people from our class/school would go.

All that week, there’d been a lot of talk about a girl who had drowned in the lagoon a few years back. I heard a lot of weird stuff from other kids (scratching at the bottom of kayaks/hearing yelling and splashing at night with no one there) Most of this I chalked up to other kids my age being retarded. The counselors wouldn’t talk to us about it.

One night we were supposed to have a guy come talk to us about snakes and lizards (for a night session). We had punch, and cookies, and waited on him for a long time. The counselors told us he wasn’t coming, but they weren’t sure what happened to him. (they didn’t get a phone call, I never found out why he didn’t show up) So we all milled around in the main lodge instead.

A girl I didn’t recognize approached me, and asked me out of the blue if I’d heard about the story of the girl that drowned in the lagoon. I had, and relayed it to her briefly. And she told me that the story I heard wasn’t true, that the girl had been meeting her boyfriend (we weren’t allowed to be out at night with the boys, or hold hands, etc.) and they’d had a fight.

It’s been since fifth grade, but I’m pretty sure the kid left her to drown.

The story (and the way the girl was talking) got to me for some reason. Also, the girl who had died was supposed to have long black hair and glasses (which the person I was talking to did).

After she walked away, I picked her out from the other students again and told her “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

She replied, “I do.”

After that, she wandered off and I couldn’t find her any more. I asked about her with my classmates, and also spent a few weeks after I got back trying to scout her out in the cafeteria (I skipped class one day so I could kind of scout all the lunch periods), but I never saw her again.

I’d like to add, there are some incongruent things:

The girl also said some really bizarre things, like that that the ghost of the girl could possess the girls at the lodge during the full moon if it fell on a Wednesday (thank god it wasn’t Wednesday).

Also, as far as I can tell, no one was ever drowned in that lagoon. I haven’t been able to find information on it since, just the string of reports from the other kids and the creepy girl that disappeared.
twisted

[puddingdear101]

There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After a what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was suprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.

Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.

[puddingdear101]

I gave her the doll on her birthday.
She loved it at first, told me it was so beautiful. That it’s hair was so soft and the dress was so pretty. She wouldn’t let it out of her sight for days. During the day she set it on the table, so she could see it while cleaning the house. During the night it sat next to the bed, looking at us sleep with big blue unmoving eyes.
But my wife’s love for the doll soon changed. Soon I noticed something was bothering here. I asked of course, but she wouldn’t tell me at first, said she was just being silly. But day after day she closed herself more and more for me. Until I couldn’t take it anymore. I pressed her, told her she would tell me what was going on right now or I would drag her to a doctor.

She finally broke and crying words came spilling out.
She then told me it was the doll. It scared her. She told me she had the feeling it was constantly watching her. Sometimes it even seemed like it moved.
This worried me and I went to take a look at the doll.
It sat motionless on the little table in the bedroom. The big blue eyes unchanged. I couldn’t help but sigh from relief a bit. Of course she’s not moving, she couldn’t have been.
I went to turn away, but then saw a tiny movement from the corner of my eye.
I turned back to the doll, picking it up from the table. I held my face close to the doll’s, staring into the eyes.
Something was moving.
I tried to concentrate, tried to look closer.
Yes, there it definately was, movement. But not from the eye itself, it was behind the eye.
Before I could register this the eye burst and out of it spilled at least ten wriggling maggots.
I dropped the doll in shock, backing away instinctively.

My wife yelled from the other room, asking me what was going on. I yelled back at her not to worry. I picked up the doll again, using a tissue to wipe away the maggots. Inside I saw more, pressing against the skin and the plastic outer layer.

So soon already. I had hoped she would have lasted longer.
I will have to get a new one for her, maybe keep it alive at first. That way it’ll last longer for sure.
While I throw away the old doll, I think about how my wife always says she loves the thick blonde curls of little Katie down the block.
Doesn’t she also have blue eyes?

[puddingdear101]

NEWS FLASH; local police had came into the abandoned house of an unidentified male. the only source of evidence of his suicide is a diary, which is being read by Sergent Kirkland currently. Sergent Kirkland lets nobody else see the evidence for unknown reasons.

"that's what the news say. but for me, I have a perfectly good reason to keep these words of this insane man away from the media."

2AM: I can’t seem to sleep tonight, and writing has always calmed me down. Today has been quite an odd day, It’s been very quiet. Nobody seemed to want to talk today, nobody seemed to want to smile today. I felt different from them, I felt happy. As for why, I am not sure. I seemed to get happier the more I saw them sad, but that’s probably just my mind making things up this late at night. I’m not an evil person. I just want to go to sleep.

"strange..." Sergent Kirkland mused. "so far he just seems like a regular, sane man with sleeping problems..."

3AM: I still can’t go to sleep. All I can seem to do is think of all of the people I saw today. All I can seem to do is think of all the things I did today. All I can seem to do is think about all of the sadness. As for why, I am not sure. I’m not an evil person. I just want to sleep.

"i wonder what he did that day..." The Sergent looked at the door. locked and bolted. "pesky reporters..."


4AM: I can’t sleep. I’m so tired, but I’m so awake. I wish somebody was here to tuck me in, to keep me safe. My thoughts are wandering so far that I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to find them again. I feel so different. I feel like I might have caused everybody to be sad today. I feel like I might have done something wrong today. I feel like I might have ended some lives today. As for why, I am not sure. I’m not an evil person. I just want sleep.

"this guy seems troubled. but why would he cause people to be sad? this couldn't be linked to the murders, could it?" Sergent thought aloud.

5AM: I don’t want to sleep any more. I looked in the mirror. I don’t want to have to wake up ever again. I looked in the mirror. I’m afraid I may have scared people today. I looked in the mirror. I’m afraid I may have been a monster today. I looked in the mirror, and nothing was different. I looked in the mirror, and nothing was the same. I’m afraid of myself. As for why, I am not sure. I’m not an evil person. I just want to die.

"what? does he think he is some kind of monster?"

6AM: I can’t seem to die. I feel like all I can do is write. I feel like all I can do is breath. I feel like all I can do is live. I can’t seem to die. What’s the point in living? What’s the point in sleeping? What’s the point in waking? I can’t seem to die. As for why, I am not sure. I’m not an evil person. I just want death.

"what?"

7AM: Every word I write seems to give me more life, and I can’t help but take it. I can’t imagine how I’m living, but the words keep me alive. I can’t imagine how I’m happy, but the words give me strength. I can’t imagine how you’re still reading, it’s you that keeps me alive. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, your death brings me life. You can’t imagine how I’m feeling, I feel so alive. You can’t imagine yourself living, you just want to die. As for why, I am not sure. I’m not an evil person. All I want is to live. All I want is you to die.

the Sergent felt a shiver go down his back. "he really is insane..." he muttered darkly.

Dear Diary,

Thank you for reading.

The Sergent Kirkland screamed, loud and piercing.

NEWS FLASH;
an unknown murderer has killed Sergent Kirkland! The police are wondering if the suicide and the murders are linked. no body was found, after all. And it seems that the last person holding the diary was our Sergent...
police officer brown has reported hearing Sergent Kirkland say before he died, "Murderer! Murderer!"
over and over before he was murdered.
strange. strange.

thank you for reading. twisted

[puddingdear101]

1Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out…

2Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would.

3Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message.

4You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.

[Blues Operator]

puddingdear101

Doesn’t she also have blue eyes?

GAHHSRHJSSGHSHHGAAGGGFFFGHSDFHASDSDF- burning_eyes
THAT SCARED THE ******** OUT OF ME.