Läskiga Historier

[360Xbox]

Här är en till, men det är ganska lång.

 

 

I never liked doors. There was always something about doors that freaked me out. When they were open, I felt exposed. When they were closed, I felt a bit safer, yet nervous about what was on the other side. So I often lock my doors and the doors that lead outside of my small rural house have plenty of windows. I’ve told people about this phobia, I guess you could call it that, before. They’ve rationalized it, saying “It’s like how some people aren’t afraid of the dark, but what the dark hides”. Yes, that makes sense. I guess, ever since I was a kid, I always imagined watching one open on its own and a monster would come out and get me. Even now and again into my teen years did this happen. It was always a door, never through a window, never out of a dark hallway or corner, but a door. The knob would turn, the hinges would creak and out came a creature of utter blackness and it would take me away, kill me or whatever monsters did. That is why I hated this particular door.

 

 

This door was tall, nearly eight feet tall and about three feet wide. It was black, jet black. I didn’t like it. It was big, dark, and in my bedroom. I never used this door often. I kept some old clothes behind that door on racks. Suits, ties, dress pants, just some random formal stuff I hardly used. I was just a cook so I never really needed them unless I needed a job. Luckily I was able to stay with this diner for a long time. I haven’t opened that door for five years. I often wonder why I never got rid of it. If I didn’t like it, why keep it? Well I guess because it just seemed silly. It seemed silly to get rid of a door just because of some childhood fears. I was a big boy now, I’m not supposed to be afraid of the dark or the boogeyman.

“Heh, yeah.” I rapped my knuckle against the door as I stood in front of it, “I’m not afraid of you. You’re just a big piece of wood. All you got behind you are some old clothes that probably don’t even fit me anymore.” I tried to laugh away my concern as I looked at the door. It seemed to tower over me, two small panels at the top of the door seemed to angle down at me. For a moment I felt like it was looking right at me. I tried to laugh again, but I couldn’t quite muster the humor. Instead I gave it another rap and walked off. I had things to do, get ready for work, bills to pay, and people to see. I didn’t have time to be afraid of a door.

 

 

A couple of nights went by after I ‘mocked’ the door. The feeling of being looked down on

didn’t leave for the rest of the week. For some reason I just felt…watched by the door. I lay in bed one night, parallel to the door, and stared at it. The door was hidden in the darkness, with only its brass knob to let me know it never moved. I stared for some time, looking directly at it. I felt like I was in a staring contest with the door. We just looked at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. We waited until one of us broke the stare, we tried to intimidate the other. We stared for a long time before I finally blinked. When I did blink I expected the door to suddenly swing open and reveal some sort of monster. Nothing happened, the door simply stood there, looking at me, looming over me. A chill ran down my spine and I finally turned away. I went to sleep, but not after several glances back at the door.

 

 

I woke up that morning with a headache. My head pounded like a death metal drum solo. I groaned, it hurt like a son of a bitch. I pressed my hands on the bed to feel something warm dampen my hands. I opened my eyes. There on my pillow and down onto the white sheets was a pool of blood. I sat up, tearing my face away from the pillow. It was sticky from the dried blood. When I examined the sheets closer I saw drops falling from my nose. I had a bloody nose, of course. I quickly stood up from my bed and ran to the bathroom with my head up like some sort of super snob. Ya know, the kind where they even look down on God. Anyway I ran in and looked at myself in the mirror. The left half of my face, mostly the cheek and mouth area, was dark red and brown and two streams of blood still dripped from nose. I held it up again, this time feeling around the bathroom for some toilet paper. I found some and quickly plugged my nose up in a hurry. The toilet paper stopped the blood and I was able to sigh in relief. I felt dizzy though and when the crisis ended, my headache decided to take center stage again. With another groan I wandered into my bedroom and called in sick. I couldn’t go to work like this. I called my boss, and with the toilet paper in my nose, I sounded more convicting. He told me to call someone and so I called Fred, he’s a good shit.

 

“Hello?” Came up his voice. I must’ve just woke him up.

“Hey, Fred. It’s Josh. Listen man, I’m feeling like shit and I need you to come in for me, alright?” There was a silence on the phone. He was probably nodding. Fred had a stupid tendency to do that, like he thought the phone had video or something. Finally he responded.

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He said with a yawn.

“Thanks man, I’ll take Friday for ya, if you’d like.”

“I would like that, Josh. Thanks.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to ya later.” I hung up.

 

There, I had the day to get cleaned up and my head to feel better. As I laid my phone back on the base I noticed something odd. There was a sheet missing from my bed. Figuring I just kicked it off as I slept, I took a look around the bed. Nothing. Not under the bed, not behind it, not around it. I looked all over and couldn’t find it. With a sigh I sat down on the bloody bed. What a day, and I just woke up. My headache pounded as I tried to think, tried to calm down. I felt like crap, but I also felt nervous for some reason. A bloody nose and a headache then my sheet is gone. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. What a fucking day. Then I looked up, intent on some aspirin…and I noticed something else. My closet door wasn’t closed all the way. I could tell because the latch rested on the outside of the frame. Now I was really freaking out.

 

 

I stood up, in nothing but my boxers and approached the door. I reached for the handle. I looked up at those two panels and again, they seemed to angle down at me, staring me dead in the eye. I hesitated and took a step back. Why was it open and why was I so scared of it? It was just a door. Nothing to be scared of…yet I was. I was absolutely terrified of this door right now. My head pounded, my nose was plugged with toilet tissues, and I was alone in my boxers. Dawn was just creeping through my window. I gripped the handle. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to be scared of. I told myself this probably a million times as my hand shook on the knob. The quaking knob made small rattling noises as the latch vibrated against the frame. Finally I took a deep breath, made a tight fist, and swung open the door.

Inside was the five jackets, dress shirts, dress pants, and two pairs of shoes I wear for interviews. They were all aligned and straight on the rack they hung on by their hangers. Just as I had left them five years ago. I looked down and there was my sheet under the coats. It was folded up neatly into a perfect square. One word raced across my mind a thousand times. How? How how how how how how? I didn’t know, and I didn’t think I wanted to know. Mustering my courage again, I reached down and grabbed the sheet then I shut the door. I must’ve used more force than usual as the door shut with a small slam. I jumped in response, but I stood my ground otherwise. I looked back up at the two panels and remained still. They looked back. They seemed to be waiting for some sort of response to my findings. Did they want praise, fear, scolding? What was I do to? Should I tell it how much it scared me and how terrible of a trick it was? I looked up at it. It looked back. I never moved from where I was until around 10 am.

The day pressed on. I was downstairs, cleaned up and my headache was gone. I was sitting on my couch watching TV. I was watching a documentary. It was about the civil war and how Sherman marched through Atlanta burning all in his path. Next to me in a chair was the sheet I found in the closet. I didn’t take the time to put them back on the bed, nor did I take the bloody sheets and pillow to be washed. I didn’t intent to sleep up there anyway. Yet it seems my venture to avoid the door was not something I was destined. As a man talked about how Sherman planned to burn Atlanta to the ground I heard something that made my blood run cold. A loud slam echoed through the emptiness of my house. It was a fierce slam, like someone who was running for their life would slam a door in front of a killer. Or like how a child looking for attention would slam their parent’s door. I jumped up from the couch and look up the stairs leading to my room. The slam echoed in my ears a few times as I gazed up, unable to move. I was not just scared anymore. I was terrified. Something was in my house, something hid behind that door. And that something wanted my attention.

 

 

“Hello?” I called out. I wasn’t sure how I was able to muster the courage to call out into the empty house. I wasn’t even sure why I thought I’d get answer. I didn’t and the house was silent once again. My nerves were not settled however. I took a few steps forward, my socks whispering on the pale carpet. I stopped and nothing continued to happen. I licked my lips, they were incredibly dry. I then jogged. I couldn’t believe how fast I decided to see the door. My body felt like on autopilot as I skipped up steps to my room. I flew past the bathroom and suddenly found myself at the doorway leading to my room. I looked around the corner. There was the door. It was shut tight, no latch left out. I stepped into my room. I stepped slowly, cautiously. Those two panels watched my every move like the eyes of a hawk, or that of a demon. I looked at them as I continued. Every few steps I paused to listen and watch. Nothing happened. Then I was at the door. I looked up at the panels again. This time something else caught my eye. It was a long streak. The door was covered with them, but this one was larger than the rest. The streak extended between the two panels and curved. It was smiling at me.

 

 

I was downstairs again. This time with a beer in my hands, the quilt over me, and my head on the arm of the couch. The time was 11:30pm. I was watching a movie. One of the Die Hards I think it was. I sat, my eyes blank and my body cold. I was very cold now. I even wore my jacket under the quilt and I was still shivering. I was probably actually very scared, yet I didn’t feel all that scared. Just cold. I watched as explosions came off the screen, as gunfire was passed back and forth between Bruce Willis and some terrorists. I watched, my body shivering yet still. I took a drink of the beer only every ten minutes, on the minute. I watched…and waited. I knew I was waiting for something. For the door to do something, yet I couldn’t leave. I didn’t feel the need yet. I felt distant, actually. I felt like I was watching myself watch TV. I only ever came back to the present whenever the ten minutes came up. I watched TV and kept an ear out for something.

 

 

At 12:00 midnight, just as I drank my beer I heard what I was waiting for. The walls shook, the ground quaked, and my heart stopped. There was another loud slam, oh, but it wasn’t over yet. That slam was followed by another, and another, and another. The pace was slow at first, but it picked up quickly. It was almost like listening to a giant smash against a wall over and over again. My body moved faster than I ever thought I could, yet I remember every moment. My hair standing up, my legs kicking off the quilt, my hands grabbing the keys to my car. My head turning to the stairs. The slamming continued throughout the process. I ran out the door, I ran to my car. Then I drove away. I drove so fast, so fast to get away from the slamming. It continued in my head. Pounding, over and over and over again. It just wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t concentrate. I just heard the slamming of my closet door over and over again, like a jackhammer. It pierced my mind and broke my sanity. I began to laugh and laughed even louder as I watched a pair of headlights rush into my car.

[Gäst CrazyCake]

Jag läste hela :D

 

Riktigt bra historia! (Om det räknas som en historia :D )

 

[Poesi]

Läste också hela, lite besviken på slutet.

Trodde att dörren skulle göra nåt hemskt eller nåt, men han var bara psykiskt sjuk.

[Hivee]

Läste också hela, lite besviken på slutet.

Trodde att dörren skulle göra nåt hemskt eller nåt, men han var bara psykiskt sjuk.

Hade ju varit otroligt corny

om dörren hade gjort något hemskt

, blev glatt överraskad av slutet

Redigerat 13 Juni 2010 av Hivee

[360Xbox]

Här är en till.

 

A young lady is alone in her apartment. She goes to sleep with the dog on the floor beside her. In the middle of the night, she is awoken by a strange sound. She is alarmed, but reaches down to the dog who licks her hand. She is reassured and goes back to sleep. In the morning, she finds her dog hung in the shower. Where the dog slept, she picks up a note that says "Humans can lick too."

 

 

Här är en film om den, tycker dock filmen är bättre.

[Poesi]

@Hivee: "corny" säger mig ingenting.

 

Detta är en väldigt bra tråd.

[Gäst CrazyCake]

Här är en till.

 

A young lady is alone in her apartment. She goes to sleep with the dog on the floor beside her. In the middle of the night, she is awoken by a strange sound. She is alarmed, but reaches down to the dog who licks her hand. She is reassured and goes back to sleep. In the morning, she finds her dog hung in the shower. Where the dog slept, she picks up a note that says "Humans can lick too."

 

 

Här är en film om den, tycker dock filmen är bättre.

Såg den på Urban legends för rätt så länge sen. Redigerat 13 Juni 2010 av CrazyCake

[Hivee]

@Hivee: "corny" säger mig ingenting.

Engelskt uppslagsord

corny

 

Svensk översättning

fånig, larvig (adjektiv)

 

 

 

Svenskt uppslagsord

töntig töntigt töntiga adj.

larvig; tafatt, bortkommen (vardagligt)

 

Engelsk översättning

corny

[Poesi]

ok

[360Xbox]

Fy fan, klockan är 2:30 och jag läste nyss en riktigt läskig "historia" IMO.

En av dom läskigaste som jag läst hittils.

 

I always liked Super Mario 64 when I was a kid. I remember playing it at my aunt's house all the time. Well, one day a pop-up appeared out of nowhere as I was watching gameplay footage on Youtube. I was a little startled, and was about to close the window, until I realized that it was a website showing of a mint condition copy of Super Mario 64 for sale. There was a picture and everything. I usually don't trust these things, but the feeling of nostalgia overpowered me, and I wanted to buy it.

 

The whole business was peculiar, seeing as how the owner of the game wanted the buyer to send an envelope containing $10 to and address on the site, instead of using something like PayPal. What made things even more strange was that when I tried to gain access to the website (I wrote down the URL) after encountering...problems with the game, the page was nowhere to be found.

 

A few days after the $10 was mailed, I got a package containing the new copy of the game. The first thing I noticed when I opened the small box was that the "official sticker" with Mario flying in the air was apparently peeled off or something. In it's place was a piece of duct tape with "Mario" crudely written on it in permanent marker. I felt a little ripped-off, but as long as the game worked, I didn't care.

 

I got out my Nintendo 64 and put the cartridge in. The screen turned on with the familiar Mario face that you could stretch and twist aimlessly. I remembered laughing all the time at the results as a kid and decided to mess around for old times sake. I moved the cursor over to Mario's ear and pulled it to elven proportions. I was going to do the same to the other ear, when the TV suddenly produced loud static. Mario's whole head started deforming and twisting in ways that I didn't even know were possible for the model. Random sound effects from the game started playing along with the static. As all this was occurring, I could hear a faint voice whispering in Japanese. The voice was stammering and whimpering.

 

I immediately shut off the game and tried again. I didn't bother with the Mario head this time. Just selected a new file and started playing.

 

When I selected the file, the game skipped the opening monologue by Peach and the courtyard outside. Mario was just placed right inside the castle. Creepier still, Bowser didn't say anything either. I tried to ignore it and played anyway. However I also noticed that their was no music. Just dead silence. Their weren't even any Toads around to talk to. The only door I could enter was the Bob-omb Battlefield. The other doors wouldn't even respond to my button commands.

 

The portrait to Bob-omb Battlefield wasn't the usual picture. It was just a stark white canvas. I was still trying to convince myself that these were just minor glitches, and that they wouldn't effect the gameplay at all. Once I entered the portrait, the image suddenly went from a blank canvas to the Lethal Lava Land painting. You know, that slightly unsettling image of the flame with the evil smile? Yeah, that's when I started getting really suspicious.

 

The mission select menu came up, and yet another weird detail was present. Instead of "Big Bob-omb on the Summit", the mission was called "TURN BACK". I have no idea what drove me to press A, but I did.

 

The level seemed normal. Everything was how I remembered it. I thought I could finally enjoy my favorite childhood game. But then I saw him. Luigi. I was absolutely shocked. He was never in this game. His model wasn't even a Mario palette swap. He looked like a completely original model. Luigi just stood there until I tried to approach him. He started running at unexpected speeds. I followed suite and went through the level. Strange things happened as I pursued him. each time I picked up a coin, the enemies and music would get slower, and the scenery would look darker in color and more morbid. It kept gradually getting worse until I collected a 5th coin. Then, the music just stopped. The enemies laid down on the ground like they were dead. I was seriously freaked out, but I kept chasing Luigi.

 

I went up the hill. No cannon balls rolled down trying to knock me over. I really wasn't surprised at this point. Luigi was always just out of my sight as I ran. Once I reached the summit, I saw yet another object out of place. A small cottage was all that was seen on the top of the hill. Luigi was nowhere to be found. The cottage was certainly od looking for a Mario game. It was old, plain, and broken down. Regardless of my fears at that moment, I had Mario enter the cottage.

 

As soon as the door closed. A disturbing picture of a hanged Luigi immediately popped up along with a very frightening scare chord. It sounded like a violin screech accompanied by loud piano banging. Mario fell to his knees and sobbed for roughly 5 minutes, then the screen irised-out.

 

I returned to the castle. Mario just slumped out of the painting. The image switched from the Lethal Lava Land portrait to the image of Luigi hanging himself. The room was different this time. It was now a small hallway. Toads with blank expressions and white robes lined the sides of the hallway. Their was another painting at the opposite end that just completely and utterly scared me. It was a picture of my family It wasn't even a photo from the time Super Mario 64 was released. It was a very, very recent photo. I remembered posing for it last weekend

 

I reached for the on/off switch on the N64. There was no way I was going to play this anymore. However, when I flipped the switch, the game was still on. I flipped it back and forth, but to no avail. I tried unplugging the whole system, but it never left the screen. I was even still able to control Mario. I couldn't just leave it on forever...so I kept playing. I went to the photo of my family, and jumped in. Only one mission was available, of course. This one was called "Run, Don't Walk". I selected the mission. 'Let's-a-go'...

 

The level started in a flooded hallway with platforms floating on the water. Mario landed on one of these, and the camera turned to show what was behind. A silent black void was slowly approaching Mario. It didn't look like anything. It didn't even look like finished graphics. Just a giant, blocky, black blob. I started jumping from platform to platform. With no goal in sight, I kept running, the darkness slowly but surely gaining speed. This kept going on for what felt like hours. I was really doubting there would ever be an end. Mario was just going in circles. Finally, the black blob/void/thing caught up with Mario, and enveloped him in darkness. He didn't scream or resist at all. It just consumed him.

 

Mario fell out of the painting and back into the castle. I lost one of my 3 lives. The room was different now. Some of the Toads were gone, and the painting looked different. My family and I were in the same positions, but our bodies were partially decomposed. It looked too real to be photoshopped. It looked more like someone just took our dead bodies and posed them.

 

Regardless, I jumped into the painting again. Mario was in an small room. There was still only one mission available. It was called "I'm right here." spelled just like that. I selected the mission and prepared for the worst. Mario landed in a small, dark room. There no visible way out. The room was empty except for a piano in the corner. I knew what that meant. i was stuck in there with the Mad Piano. I approached it and it started chasing me as always. There was no way to damage it, so I had no choice but to let Mario take damage.

 

When he lot all his health, the usual death animation didn't happen. Mario just got mauled by the piano. He fell as his blood and guts spilled on the floor, and the camera panned to a top down view of his corpse. A distorted version of the merry-go-round music from Big Boo's Haunt played as the screen slowly transitioned from the in-game shot to a photo-realistic sketch of Mario's dead body in the same view as the shot. It was very unsettling. I was crying softly as I gazed upon the image. I lost another life.

 

The photo of my family was shown again. We were even more rotten then before. The view zoomed into the painting, like I was warping again. I was greeted with a shot of Peach's castle from the outside. The castle was crumbling in ruin. The fields were on fire. The sky was pitch black. Bowser's laugh played on a loop in the background as children mockingly chanted "You couldn't save her!". This went on for a long time, until, a close-up of of Peach's face accompanied by an extremely loud screech interrupted the loop without notice. Peach's mouth was wide open as if she was screaming, and her eyes were empty, black holes.

 

Suddenly, I was back in the hallway as Mario was once again ejected out of the painting. Now all of the Toads were gone, and me and my family looked positively repulsive. Maggots were wriggling around in holes in our flesh. Guts were spilling out of our bodies. My dad's eyeball was hanging loose from its socket. It was too much to bear, but something still urged me to trudge on. I jumped into the painting, with only one life remaining.

 

This time, there was no name for the mission. Just a blank space where the title would be. I selected the mission, and Mario landed on a very small island in the middle of the ocean. There was a solitary sign. It only read "DIVE". I did just as it said and entered the water.

 

The ocean was dark and empty. There were no fish. I wasn't even able to see anything in the water besides Mario. I swam downwards. I kept going for quite some time, yet Mario never ran out of breath. I counted roughly 10 minutes of swimming until I decided to go back up. Just as I turned Mario around, it came. A huge, and I mean huge Unagi the Eel came out of nowhere and swallowed Mario whole. I was dumbfounded. It went by so fast I wasn't even sure what I saw. The Game Over screen didn't show up. All that happened was a fade-out.

 

The photo of my family and I was shown again. We were plain skeletons now. Once again, it looked very real. I couldn't move the camera at all. It just stayed focused on the picture. I shut off the game and turned it on again. I chose my file, but it just went to the skeleton photo of my family. I tried this about 3 more times before giving up. I desperately wanted to stop, but some force kept me from walking away. I decided to select the only other saved file. The camera once again focused on the skeleton picture, but this time they were in a different position. As if they were a different family.

 

 

Kommer med fler sen.

Redigerat 15 Juni 2010 av 360Xbox

[Laserturk]

Fy fan, klockan är 2:30 och jag läste nyss en riktigt läskig "historia" IMO.

En av dom läskigaste som jag läst hittils.

 

*lång historia*

 

Kommer med fler sen.

Vad var poängen med historian? Jag blev skrämd, men jag fattade inte.

[Batteryz]

Här är en till.

 

A young lady is alone in her apartment. She goes to sleep with the dog on the floor beside her. In the middle of the night, she is awoken by a strange sound. She is alarmed, but reaches down to the dog who licks her hand. She is reassured and goes back to sleep. In the morning, she finds her dog hung in the shower. Where the dog slept, she picks up a note that says "Humans can lick too."

 

 

Här är en film om den, tycker dock filmen är bättre.

 

en liknade historia har jag läst i en bok fast då var historien lite längre och översatt till svenska :P.

 

 

EDIT: jag hittade den

 

Människor kan också slicka

 

Det var en flicka som skulle sova ensam hemma. Hon var inte rädd för hon hade sin lilla hund hos sej. Hunden brukar alltid sova under flickans säng och om flickan blev mörkrädd så stack hon bara ner handen under sängen och lät hunden slicka på handen. Då blev hon lugn igen.På kvällen låg flickan i sin säng och lyssnade på ett program i radion. Då bröts sändningen och hallåmannen talade om att en kött- ätande mördare hade rymt från ett dårhus alldeles i närheten. Man skulle släcka alla lampor för galningen drogs till kött, blod, och ljus. Flickan släckte lampan och stack ner handen under sängen, Då kände hon hunden slicka på handen och blev lugn och somnade.

 

Efter en stund vaknade flickan för hon tyckte att någon kom upp- för trappan. Hon stack ner handen under sängen och när hon kände hunden slicka på handen blev hon lugn och somnade om. Snart vaknade flickan en gång till. Hon tyckte att hon hörde ett plaskande, droppade ljud från badkaret, Men hon stack bara ner handen under sängen och kände hur handen blev slickad. Då somnade hon och sov gott ända till morgonen.När flickan kom in i badrummet på morgonen fick hon se att hennes hund hängde i tvättställningen ovanför badkaret. Det var knivstucken och allt blodet hade runnit ner i badkaret. På spegeln hade någon skrivit med blod:

” Människor kan också slicka.”

Redigerat 15 Juni 2010 av Alleeex