Scary stories (dont read if you are easily scared)

[Chara Dreemurr]

Hmm... Contains spoilers for all ye Fallout players.

I can't believe I forgot the Fallout 3 one.

http://www.gamesradar.com/f/is-this...080395712304064

There were messages hidden in Fallout 3 Morse code that you could pick up on the radio. You could only do so after  killing Free Dog  and going to very specific areas of the world. The creepy thing is what was actually IN the messages. Players decrypted the Morse code and this is what they got. Mainly these ones:

quote:
“The Queen has died today. The world mourns, as on days like these we are all Brits.” 4:02 March 19, 2014

quote:
“I can’t believe they’ve actually done it. Not long left. They were warned, but they just had to keep pushing the boundaries of science. The noise. I can’t take the noise anymore. And the light, dear God! The universe is slowly unraveling around us. I’m not going to wait for death. I have a pistol in the attic.” This is actually the only message not preceded by a string of numbers.

Now if you read that GamesRadar article, Bethesda denies all of it, including banning anyone on the forums that mentions it. But here's the thing..those messages are in the stock, vanilla version of Fallout 3. Someone put them there intentionally. Chalk this one up as a really creepy easter egg?

[dannydevito]

Bump

Anyone has scary stories to ppost

[ktyhrea]

ok not true i think ok

Tiffany was finishing up homework in her room when she got a text on her cell phone. She didn't recognize the number, but the text said "Take a bath and go to bed, it's a school night". Probably a wrong number, Tiffany thought, but she did what the text said anyway. She had already been planning to take a bath soon.

She stepped into the bathroom and found that the bath tub had already been filled for her. Strange, she thought. Maybe Mother had filled it in advance.
Shrugging, Tiffany undressed and hopped into the tub. Her whole body, including her head, was wet before Tiffany became aware of a stinging sensation all over her skin. In a few moments, the stinging turned to burning, and then she witnessed the skin on her arm begin to peel off. She looked at her leg and the skin there was peeling off too. All the skin on her body was coming off! Her blood shed into the tub and soon the bath was red.

Screaming in agony, Tiffany jumped out of the tub. Her blood gushed like a waterfall all over the bathroom. She turned the knob on the sink so she could try and soothe her burning body with cool water, but no water came out. Why had someone turned off the water?
Tortured cries escaped Tiffany's peeling lips as she painfully opened the door of the bathroom and hobbled out to alert her mother about the crisis.

There on the carpeting in front of the bathroom, was her dead mother in a pool of her own blood. Crying uncontrollably and shedding gallons of blood, Tiffany dragged herself to her room and picked up her cell phone to call the police. A text message was waiting for her. It was from the same number she hadn't recognized just minutes before, and the text said, "Next time, bathe in water." She heard laughter behind her and Tiffany turned around to see a tall man dressed in black holding a bloody knife in one hand and an empty container of sulfuric acid in the other.

*Shivers* nice story!

[Imperial Epsilon]

That one was creepy. I shall NEVER take a bath again. Only showers.
@Lotus of the Snow- That story REALLY freaked me out. But it was good. It had a nice plot.

[iRabid Coffee]

luv the stories keep posting

[Erille]

[Sorry for my massive uprising in werwwolf stories, but I just love them]

Shockwave: A Werewolf of Chaos

Riley ran. She tried to speed up at least a few miles per hour. She needed to go faster. Or that thing would get her.

[Major WIP]

[dannydevito]

bump

[ghostboy]

Hmm... Contains spoilers for all ye Fallout players.

I can't believe I forgot the Fallout 3 one.

http://www.gamesradar.com/f/is-this...080395712304064

There were messages hidden in Fallout 3 Morse code that you could pick up on the radio. You could only do so after  killing Free Dog  and going to very specific areas of the world. The creepy thing is what was actually IN the messages. Players decrypted the Morse code and this is what they got. Mainly these ones:

quote:
“The Queen has died today. The world mourns, as on days like these we are all Brits.” 4:02 March 19, 2014

quote:
“I can’t believe they’ve actually done it. Not long left. They were warned, but they just had to keep pushing the boundaries of science. The noise. I can’t take the noise anymore. And the light, dear God! The universe is slowly unraveling around us. I’m not going to wait for death. I have a pistol in the attic.” This is actually the only message not preceded by a string of numbers.

Now if you read that GamesRadar article, Bethesda denies all of it, including banning anyone on the forums that mentions it. But here's the thing..those messages are in the stock, vanilla version of Fallout 3. Someone put them there intentionally. Chalk this one up as a really creepy easter egg?

That's creepy! I love videogame stories.

[Chara Dreemurr]

I would have loved to read 'Guest at the table of Heaven', but the access was denied.

The Loneliness Engine;
In 1971 a small advertisement appeared in the back pages of Scientific American. It read, simply:
Never Be Alone Again.
It has been estimated that some thirty-five people responded to the ad, and another seventeen the following year. However, it cannot be ascertained at this point whether these fifty-two participants comprised the entirety of mail-in replies or merely selected out of a larger pool. In either case, each of the fifty-two respondents received a package approximately six weeks after enclosing twelve dollars in an envelope and sending it to a P.O Box in St. Paul Minnesota. The package contained a simple lightboard, various cables, a 103A modem, and a black button that depressed with a satisfying click. Those given to perusing the advertisements of Scientific American had little trouble connecting the pieces. The lightboard sparkled with an array of small LEDs, in seemingly random formations — the button alone did not seem to have purpose or effect, lying dormant beside the cables. In fifty-two living rooms, puzzled men and women stared at the board, trying to understand the patterns of light. And patterns there were: around 5:00pm, a great number of lights flashed on, so too around 9:00 am. During business hours there was mostly blackness on the board. Late in the night, clusters shone, and in the pre-dawn hours, there were always one or two. Slowly fifty-two souls began to realize that the tiny lights must ignite when other users turned their systems on, that each LED was another person who had seen the St. Paul ad, so was staring intently at the board, who was alone, who was like them. The button presented a mystery — though each one of them experimented with it innumerable times, the lights did not seem to be affected. Through the winter, fifty-two boards glittered in the dark, and fifty-two people watched the other lights, steady, unblinking, silent and anonymous, but somehow comforting.
In St. Paul, Minnesota, Milo Barnes sat at the switchboard of an AT&T public branch exchange. He worked the night shift, connecting jack to jack, watching the lamps light as calls connected, the drone of human conversation in his ears. He was a quiet man, taciturn towards his fellow operators, isolated in his threadbare chair. One of the only black families in his rural hometown, he had never had many friends. His parents had been farmers: onions, greens, root vegetables. Milo had gone to the city after a brief try at college, and found himself enveloped by the warm arms of Ma Bell. He remained introverted and painfully shy, despite being surrounded by a cloud of lively talk every night. In the eighteen months that the 103A modems were active, he never mentioned his thoughts to anyone, was never caught taking them from branch offices, moved through the PBX like a ghost.
In March 1972, the lightboards began to blink. It was not a very great logical jump for Barnes’ enthusiasts to recognize Morse code, and it was, after all, a short and simple message, repeated endlessly.
All’s well that ends well yet
Rose-Marie Gascoigne of New Orleans was the first to answer. She had sat with her lightboard for hours each evening, accompanied by two disinterested tabbies. She said later that her heart had “just plain stopped” when the lights began to flicker on and off. “The whole world just held its breath. I could hear the blood rushing in my head. I knew what to do–what the hell else was that damn button for? It just took me a couple of days to work myself up to it. It was like sending a message to God.”
She reached out to the all but forgotten black button, and tried to remember what she knew of Morse.
She was not the last. Danny McKitterick sent his message from Portland just minutes after Rose-Marie, by all accounts, and in the very small hours of a Minnesota dawn, Milo Barnes sat breathless among his jacks and his lamps as one by one they flashed on and off, a slow and tremulous human server in the days before the whole of the world was networked thus, finishing his line, answering his brief, quiet message, lights in the dark:
Though time seem so adverse and means unfit though time seem so adverse and means unfit though time seem so adverse and means unfit
Over and over, again and again. Milo must have smiled–it is a comfort to think of him smiling. While the other operators worked around him, oblivious, he sent out a new message to each machine that had supplied the coded response he sought, and this one was simpler than the others, more direct, and more frightening.
Pick up the phone at midnight.
As the moon came up in St. Paul, Milo Barnes closed his eyes and slotted a silver jack into place. And another, and another. San Francisco to Cheyenne. Phoenix to Charlotte. Seattle to Sacramento.
New Orleans to Portland.
Milo sat among his lamps and wires, his hands taut, and held his breath.
In Louisiana, Rose-Marie Gascoigne held hers, and put her ear to her receiver.
“Hello?”

[Imperial Epsilon]

Lost Tapes: Poltergiest (continued) ((srry it took so long))

The parents found out about the incident and they called in some ghost hunters. In the group they had a lean man, with brown curly hair.(lets call him James.) A tall, bald man.(lets call him Chad.) And a woman with red curly hair, in a wheelchair.(lets call her Katie.) They set up an interview with the Mike(the younger boy.) James put a pen infront of him and asked him to move it. Mike yelled that he couldnt move it and that he wasnt a freak! Katie looked at him and told him to look at her. She had wheels for feet, and she wasnt a freak. Mike sat down. And James asked once more. Mike screamed and denied, but this time the pen moved.
((WIP))