The Generally Just Fucking Creepy Stuff Chat Thread V4 - "Let The Bone Rattling Begin" Edition
831 replies, posted
I've found some fresh pasta on /r/nosleep, I think it's pretty damn good.
[QUOTE] Written by [B]straydog1980[/B] from /r/nosleep
I saw him again last week. He hadn't changed a bit since I'd seen him last. Wide eyes, fixed smile, alabaster skin. A quarter of a lifetime weighed heavy on my bones. The firmness of youth was beginning to flee my flesh, my joints ached and my hair was thinning. But still he was the same. I saw him on the corner of a busy street, for just a moment. He caught my eye. He knew I was looking. He met my idiot gaze with his dark eyes and he was gone.
That was the first night I'd gotten drunk in a long time. Not the quiet buzz of Friday evening with friends, nor the rip roaring drunkenness of a university party. No, this was drinking to forget. Not chasing the high or the company. I was drinking to find the blackness at the bottom of the bottle of cheap whiskey. I crawled into bed, my head reeling. The alcohol hit me like a sledgehammer and I found sweet rest when my head hit the pillow.
Except I didn’t. The dream found me again. Twenty five god damn years and it found me again. I was back in the dark place. It was hot. Terribly hot. Sweat coated my skin instantly. Again and again I returned to this place. The dark. The smoke. And the screams. A thousand voices, blending into one unending klaxxon of pain and torment. Just like before, even through that torrent of sound, I could pick out one single voice. Ben. His voice still clear and high after twenty five years while mine had cracked with puberty and cheap cigarettes. High, clear and still in pain after all this time.
Sleep couldn't hold me. Not after that. I woke up in a muddle of sweaty night clothes and sheets. The same thing happened every time I'd seen him over the years. Reminding me, punishing me for that night in the stone garden. The worst thing I'd done in my life. I can't sleep tonight. Before exhaustion takes me back to the dark place again, I will tell my story.
A little context is in order. I grew up a stone's throw away from [URL="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haw_Par_Villa"]this place[/URL]. It was built in 30's and was already ancient by the time I came around. A pair of rich men, hoping to give something back to society, built a sprawling park with depicting classical Chinese mythology. This was before Nintendo or the weekly glut of blockbuster movies. A weekend out would mean playing ball in a park, cycling or a visit to a place like this.
Haw Par Villa was made out of more than a dozen individual carven dioramas. Ask around and people won’t remember the Court of the Jade Emperor, or the legendary Journey to the West with the Monkey God. No, anybody you ask will remember the Ten Courts of Hell. A sort of grotesque warning to edify the crowd, particular children. Think of it as Sunday School by the way of Dante’s Inferno. The boisterous sounds of the weekend crowd always faded in this part of the park. The garish colours of the statues took nothing away from the gruesomeness of their subject matter. Their lips were a little too red, their skin a little too pale, their eyes a little too dark. Looking on, frozen in horror, as groups of demons gleefully burned, boiled or ripped at their flesh. Parents would whisper the wrongdoings of each of the tormented souls to their horrified children as they passed through the stone garden. All the while, the children would be staring suspiciously at the stone tableaus in front of them, as though they never fully trusted the statues. Children are wiser than we give them credit for.
I can no longer remember the names of those with me that night. Time has stolen all their names and faces save one, the one I cannot forget, no matter how I try. The one I still see. Ben. He was reckoned as a troublemaker even by our own motley crew of troublemakers. I cannot remember if it was he that first broached the idea that we should sneak into the park after dark, but I wouldn't have put it past him. The rest took little convincing. It would be a grand adventure, sneaking out after dark and breaking into the park. Or so we thought at the time.
The night was warm and muggy. The moon, bright and swollen, hung low overhead, dusting the still landscape with a cool, silvery light. Night time in the tropics was never quiet. The denizens of the late hours strived to outdo each other in a dark symphony. The reedy music of the crickets. The basso profondo of the mating bullfrog. The occasional shriek of the hunting bat. We pulled up to the gate on our bikes. Our faces already shiny with sweat in the pale moonlight. The night guard, grizzled and whiskered, sat in the guardhouse, already halfway through a six pack of beer. A small bubble of spit grew and shrank with his snores as he slouched back in his chair. The park was ours.
The stone garden had a still tranquility at night. Without the hustle and bustle of the crowd, a deeper see of peace prevailed. But our thirst for adventure could not be slaked by running around the displays or posing with mythic figures. There was a twinkle in Ben's eye. The kind of look that started stories that ended with skinned knees, torn clothes or sharp word from our parents. We'd have a race, he said. Through the park. To the last of the Ten Courts.
A tepid breeze sprang up, stirring up the grit from the pathway. Clouds, driven by the wind, obscured the face of the silver disc in the sky, plunging the park into intermittent darkness. It's never truly dark in cities. There's always a streetlamp or building somewhere nearby bleeding light. Not so in the stone garden. The light from the streets was far in the distance, and there was nothing in the garden but the statues and their shadows.
Ben seemed to sense our discomfort, but mere reticence had never been enough to derail his plans. Unable to appeal to our sense of adventure, he opted to tempt us instead. The first one to the end, he said, would win a week's supply of ice cream at his expense. Or, if he came in first, each of us would take turns to supply him with ice cream. The others needed no further encouragement. When he nodded, the stillness of the park was shattered by the patter of feet on concrete. The five of us scattered. It only took a second to realize the foolishness of the race. There could have been no more than a dozen visits to the park between the five of us. Nobody knew where the Ten Courts were.
The park was a labyrinth of whorling pathways, crossing and crisscrossing. Within a minute, the four others had vanished down the twisting paths. I took a deep breath and I started down a promising path. I strained my ears to try to catch the footfalls of my compatriots. A strange sense of isolation took root and grew. The warmth and safety of my bed seemed a world away. A week's worth of ice cream seemed like a poor reward for this. Just finding one of my friends would have sufficed. I didn't hear the sounds of my companions. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Even the usual night time sounds were gone. Afraid, perhaps, to penetrate the silence of this stone garden. The passing clouds continued to obscure the face of the moon, sometimes for a minute, sometimes for five. Light. Dark. And back again.
The statues took on a pale glow when the light of moon hit them, their alabaster skin almost shimmering. I was lost. I barely recognized what the statues in front of me were meant to depict. I weighed my options. I felt like I could have been wandering for hours, with hours more ahead, looping round in circles, without ever reaching my goal. Perhaps the ridicule of my friends would be the lesser of the evils to bear. Finding the last of the Ten Courts may have been impossible to me, but it would have been a simple enough thing to retrace my steps to the main gate. Young boys were not known for their patience, and I was certain that they wouldn't wait at the goal for long. The unsettling feeling was gone, replaced by my new found confidence. I whirled around, ready to make my way back to the gate.
There, on the path, was a statue.
Not posed in one of the many alcoves around the park. Standing there on the path, like it had always been there. Facing me. It was facing me. I had been on the same path a moment before. There was no way. No way it could have been there earlier. My young mind skittered away from the only logical explanation. It had not been there earlier. It was there now. I backed away slowly.
The statue stood there impassively, its dark eyes staring at me. I was so intent at keeping my eyes on it that I didn't even notice that I reached the edge of the pathway. My heel caught on the shallow gutter and I landed hard on my boney ass.
I groaned and looked up at the night sky. A pair of statues leered down at me. With a little cry, I swivelled away from them. Had they been there a second ago? Why would the statues be there on the edge of the display?
I struggled to my feet, trying to keep my eyes on all three statues at once. I didn't have to. The one on the path was gone.
I didn't need a second invitation.
The winding paths betrayed me. Had I taken the left route or the right on the way in? My lungs quickly started burning with the effort. The clouds blew in again, throwing the entire space into a deep darkness. I was alone in a silent world, the rattle of my breathing my only company. Or not. There, in the darkness, another sound began to insinuate itself. A soft, dry, rasping sound. Stone on stone. I started running again.
I remember calling out for help, the threat of being caught by the guard was much preferred to the alternative. I was only greeted by the sound of my own tears bouncing off the walls of the garden. The light returned. They knew I was here. I felt their empty gazes on me as I sped through the paths. They were all facing me now, ignoring their daytime pursuits, watching me instead. I never saw them move, yet I saw their faces when I was walking up the path, and when I cast my gaze backwards over my shoulder, my fearful eyes still met theirs.
The scenes before me finally took a turn for the bloody, the macabre. The figures, a little more bestial. I had found the Ten Courts.
The sounds behind me had stopped, I looked back cautiously. No statues were on the path behind me, almost as though the path ahead held something worse, something even they would not risk suffering.
The denizens of this section of the park no longer paid attention to their unfortunate victims. Not when there were things infinitely fresher roaming nearby. The same dry grinding sounds as they began to turn. Never when I could see them though, but there were simply too many to watch. Everywhere I looked, I found one of them, staring at me with empty eyes.
Above the deafening silence, there was a quiet sound. Sobbing. I wasn't alone. It took me awhile before I found the source. It was Ben.
He had been backed into a corner, hiding behind a carved pot. I saw a representation of fingers clutching the edge of the pot from the inside. I knew instantly what dark torments the scene depicted. Ben had been cornered by two large demons, vaguely human-like but painted a garish green. Porcine tusks jutted from their mouths. Daylight and the company of the familiar had reduced these beings to comical effigies. There, in the dark, I looked at their their smoothly muscled bodies and I knew fear. I had to help my friend somehow. There was a small gap between the two figures. The sound of stone dragging on stone got louder. They were coming. I had to act fast, or not at all. I edged towards Ben. His were the quiet sobs on the far side of desperation. After tears. After wails. After hope. He was just out of reach, corralled by the two. I strained to reach him, reluctant to touch the two statues. I whispered to him urgently but the fear had taken all sense from him. I gritted my teeth and squeezed in just a little closer. I brushed against one of the two. I did not feel cold stone. It was hard and unyielding, to be sure, but warm to the touch. A jet of air blew my hair back, and I smelt the carrion on the breath of the statue. A heavy hand brushed my shoulder, the other statue.
My courage wavered and broke. And I left my friend crying in the dark.
The four of them were waiting for me at the gate. Ben and the others. They mocked and joked and said that they should have left without me, but their smiles never touched their eyes and I knew that what I had seen was true.
Ben’s smile was the widest of all. Fixed on his face. His eyes were very dark. The same blank darkness of the statues. He touched my hand and I felt the cool, unyielding firmness of his fingers and I knew.
I cycled home alone that night.
That was the first night the dream came. The heat, that unbearable heat. My eyes were stung by the smoke. My nose, filled with with the charred smell of burning meat. The sound of pain was deafening, a world of noise, screams and screeches. Yet above the cacophony, I could still pick out a single high voice. Ben was there. And he was screaming.
I wet my bed that night. The warm sodden sheets over my belly a reminder of my shame and fear. That would not be the last time I woke up stinking of my own urine. And it would not be the last time the dreams came.
I never spoke to Ben again. We had been close before, but no longer. I took pains to avoid him and he never made the effort to get close to me. Sometimes, when nobody else was looking, he would give me that fixed, wide smile. As though smiling at a joke that only the two of us got. Maybe he wasn’t wrong.
The year went by quickly. The rest of us packed on the inches, like young trees reaching for the sun. Ben stayed the same. He went from being the third tallest kid in class to one of the shortest. When school started after the holidays, he never came back. Rumours abounded. His parents had found a job overseas and taken him. He had been kidnapped and killed. He had just upped and left one day. I think back of the unnatural smile he gave me on the last day of school, our secret joke, and I knew the truth.
There ends the story. Or almost. I saw him a few more times over the years. It was never regular, but my city is a small one. Sometimes it would be years before I saw him again and sometimes I’d see him three times in a single year. He’d still give me that fixed smile, look at me with those large, dark eyes. Our little joke. The coward and the one that got away. And every time I saw him the dreams would follow. To remind me.
I only went back to the stone garden once after that. I was two years older, on the cusp of being a teenager. My sister wanted to visit and despite my protests, my parents took me along as well. I followed closely behind them as they pointed out the sites to my sister. The statues still looked faded and fake in the bright afternoon sun, the cracks in the paint giving away their age.
Except when we got to the Ten Courts. I found myself standing in front of a familiar sight. Two demons and a small boy cowering in front of a large cauldron. The face of the boy was distressingly familiar, even under the layer of grey dust that coated it. Or coated most of it. I swear there were two clean trails down its cheeks. Just where tears would fall.
He’s still there. In my dreams. Still screaming. Sleep will take me soon. Strong coffee has long lost its effect on me. And I will be back in the dark place, with nothing more than the screams of my friend to keep me company. [/QUOTE]
speaking of /x/ and /k/, did anyone catch that "Willowman" thread on Thursday in /x/? Did the op ever finish it or did he just give up.
It sounded like it was becoming another slenderman story but at first it going really well, I enjoyed reading it.
[IMG]http://i.imgur.com/CqJPHTv.jpg[/IMG]
[QUOTE=Griffster26;39951593][IMG]http://i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/475/479/679.gif[/IMG][/QUOTE]
Woah that's actually scary.
It's just so unnerving.
Imagine watching that movie (bedknobs and broomsticks) on an old VHS and then that happens.
[IMG]http://i.imgur.com/izBCoRq.jpg[/IMG]
Also I've got an /x/ thread going looking for more good textpastas.
[editline]18th March 2013[/editline]
[url]http://boards.4chan.org/x/res/12230315[/url]
that airsoft story was great, definitely worth the read
Like I was planning to sleep tonight.. Pff!
[video=youtube;7OdbCLfXUV4]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OdbCLfXUV4[/video]
[QUOTE=Articsledder;39960569]speaking of /x/ and /k/, did anyone catch that "Willowman" thread on Thursday in /x/? Did the op ever finish it or did he just give up.
It sounded like it was becoming another slenderman story but at first it going really well, I enjoyed reading it.[/QUOTE]
If anyone is interested it just resurfaced, Op gave up and came up with a shitty ending, but here's some pics anyways.
[quote][IMG]http://upaoncp.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/1363473676634.png[/IMG]
[IMG]http://upaoncp.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/1363473726103.png[/IMG]
[/quote]
(this isn't all of it, but the rest was op [sp]getting KO'd by the thing, waking up, feeling of being stalked, etc, then moved out when bones of one of the freinds showed up at their door[/sp])
[url]http://boards.4chan.org/x/res/12211824[/url]
I'll keep dredging up more innawoods stories from /k/ since they seem to be a hit, I hang out there quite a bit
Pretty good, not sure if it's late or not but it's worth a read
[img]http://i.imgur.com/IxyguOh.jpg[/img]
[QUOTE=Ryz0;39969381]Pretty good, not sure if it's late or not but it's worth a read[/QUOTE]
This is definitely one of my favorites, it's a really good story, I recommend you read it if you haven't.
Greentext story incoming (not mine, just pulled it off /x/ there)
>be 14
>its dark, mum cuts her arm in the kitchen and has to go drive to hospital, doesnt want to call ambulance for whatever reason. dad works night shift
>decide to stay at home because i didnt want to go to hospital, too far away (i lived out on a farm, 40 minutes drive from nearest town)
>been an hour since mum left, get this really uneasy feeling. dogs are barking, cat is freaking the fuck out
>run out of room to get phone, go back in there.
>dead silence for a few minutes
>suddenly, something/someone is banging on the front door, screaming "LET ME IN, LET ME IN" in this really growly voice, sounds angry as shit
>have no neighbours, no one has driven down our road all night
>they start walking around the house, banging on all the windows, getting angrier and angrier
>freak out and call my dad, say someones trying to break in, dont know what to do, he tells me he will come home, also tells me to call the police
>call the police, they say they will send a car
>stay on the phone with the police, theyre trying to calm me down, the thing outside is still screaming and banging on things, screaming "let me in" i hide under my bed, im scared as fuck, starting to get more and more distressed as i remember paranormal shit ive read about, also remember a murder that happened only a few weeks before a few streets down
>phone cuts out, thing outside gets even louder. try ringing the police again or my father or mother, just anyone. start crying loudly because im so terrifed
>thing is able to hear my crying, goes to my window, starts banging on it
>"let me in, let me in"
>stops banging on the window, starts scratching it. stops yelling too, whispery voice "let me in, let me in"
>i decide to try and intimidate it, so sick of its yelling.
>"i have a gun. ill shoot you, ill blow your fucking brains out if you dont go away"
>it stops, think im successful with trying to get it to stop
>it laughs. and oh god, that fucking laughter was the creepiest shit ive ever heard. it laughs so hard, dogs are going crazy from barking. my cat is running around the house meowing.
>it stops laughing, hits the window really hard. i curl up into a ball and im praying that it doesnt break the window
>suddenly that stops too, i hear nothing for a while until i hear knocking at my door
>its the police, about 20 minutes since i called, there was apparently a car halfway between my house and the nearest town dealing with some shit
>they ask what happened, i take them around the house telling them this thing was banging on the doors and the windows. they investigate around my house until dad gets home and they talk to him away from me, im inside all shaken up drinking something
>dad comes up to me asks me what i saw, i tell him about this thing saying to let me in
>he and the officer talk more, officer leaves a while later. dad confronts me after this, says they couldnt find anything. he asks me again to tell him what happened, i tell him. i can tell he doesnt quite believe my story but he goes with it anyway and stays with me until mum comes home, i tell her, she doesnt quite believe me anyway. they talk privately for a bit about it and i go to bed. never experienced anything like it again
to this day i have no fucking clue what it was. i never saw it, only heard it. ever since then ive had problems with staying home alone at night, it scares the fuck out of me
I entered Aerolop's Profile.
I was listening to music with high volume.
[B]Never again[/B]
Why?
Vimeo Auto play Scream and skeletons.
[QUOTE=Ryz0;39969990]Greentext story incoming (not mine, just pulled it off /x/ there)
>be 14
>its dark, mum cuts her arm in the kitchen and has to go drive to hospital, doesnt want to call ambulance for whatever reason. dad works night shift
>decide to stay at home because i didnt want to go to hospital, too far away (i lived out on a farm, 40 minutes drive from nearest town)
>been an hour since mum left, get this really uneasy feeling. dogs are barking, cat is freaking the fuck out
>run out of room to get phone, go back in there.
>dead silence for a few minutes
>suddenly, something/someone is banging on the front door, screaming "LET ME IN, LET ME IN" in this really growly voice, sounds angry as shit
>have no neighbours, no one has driven down our road all night
>they start walking around the house, banging on all the windows, getting angrier and angrier
>freak out and call my dad, say someones trying to break in, dont know what to do, he tells me he will come home, also tells me to call the police
>call the police, they say they will send a car
>stay on the phone with the police, theyre trying to calm me down, the thing outside is still screaming and banging on things, screaming "let me in" i hide under my bed, im scared as fuck, starting to get more and more distressed as i remember paranormal shit ive read about, also remember a murder that happened only a few weeks before a few streets down
>phone cuts out, thing outside gets even louder. try ringing the police again or my father or mother, just anyone. start crying loudly because im so terrifed
>thing is able to hear my crying, goes to my window, starts banging on it
>"let me in, let me in"
>stops banging on the window, starts scratching it. stops yelling too, whispery voice "let me in, let me in"
>i decide to try and intimidate it, so sick of its yelling.
>"i have a gun. ill shoot you, ill blow your fucking brains out if you dont go away"
>it stops, think im successful with trying to get it to stop
>it laughs. and oh god, that fucking laughter was the creepiest shit ive ever heard. it laughs so hard, dogs are going crazy from barking. my cat is running around the house meowing.
>it stops laughing, hits the window really hard. i curl up into a ball and im praying that it doesnt break the window
>suddenly that stops too, i hear nothing for a while until i hear knocking at my door
>its the police, about 20 minutes since i called, there was apparently a car halfway between my house and the nearest town dealing with some shit
>they ask what happened, i take them around the house telling them this thing was banging on the doors and the windows. they investigate around my house until dad gets home and they talk to him away from me, im inside all shaken up drinking something
>dad comes up to me asks me what i saw, i tell him about this thing saying to let me in
>he and the officer talk more, officer leaves a while later. dad confronts me after this, says they couldnt find anything. he asks me again to tell him what happened, i tell him. i can tell he doesnt quite believe my story but he goes with it anyway and stays with me until mum comes home, i tell her, she doesnt quite believe me anyway. they talk privately for a bit about it and i go to bed. never experienced anything like it again
to this day i have no fucking clue what it was. i never saw it, only heard it. ever since then ive had problems with staying home alone at night, it scares the fuck out of me[/QUOTE]
[img]http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/001/702/fairy.jpg[/img]
reminds me of this
We have a home gym in our basement and my dad and I usually work out early every morning before work/school. He's out of town this week so it was just me alone this morning, and while down there I heard all sorts of strange creaking sounds. My brain raced through every goddam Goatman and There are Monsters scenarios that have been in the back of my head and I got sufficiently creeped out over essentially nothing.
So I offer this thread my genuine thanks. I'm so glad I can actually feel creeped out again.
Okay, here's a story I've been wanting to share for a while:
[img]http://mastermason.com/Roxboro/RaleighTemple.Jpg[/img]
Here is a masonic temple. When I still lived at my older house, this was [B]right across the street.[/B]
I always went over there to skateboard or ride my bike, and they fucking hated it. There was always
this man who got butthurt whenever we went over there. He either yelled at us, or called our parents.
The only time we went over there was when we noticed there weren't any cars. There was also this
giant cannon which always attracted my friends and I.
Anyway, look at the picture. If you notice the window that's on the way upper right (The one by the flag.),
we always saw these wavy curtains there that would move when we went to the parking area. Usually, this
is not a big deal. It could be the wind, it could be the fan inside the room if there was one, but we never knew,
but I completely forgot about all those ideas when I noticed one evening a man slipped his hands through the curtains, he
would usually do it every time I went over there, and I'm pretty sure that was intentional. I never really cared about it at all.
Sometimes, I would just stare at it to see if he moved it or if he got bored, and spoilers: he never did. It gotten to the point where I
just wanted to know why he did this. It started to get more eery than it rather being fun and games at first.
A few days later, I walked over there to trying to confront it, but as of me being an 11 year old idiot, all I did was scream at the window and I probably pissed them off a bit more. I can't be too sure,
but I remember he opened the curtains up shortly after and smiled at me. For about 10 whole seconds, I just saw this stupid, malicious smile on his face.
I'm pretty sure I was too frightened to move. (Think about it, going over there for a week straight every day to finally see [b]that[/b].) but I know I
wasn't too frightened because I fled. After about 5 years, I still don't know what happened. (And I'm 100% sure he wasn't flipping me off :v:)
The cannon:
[img]http://goodnightraleigh.com/uploaded_images/cannon.jpg[/img]
Another angle of the house.
[img]http://www.paulsetliff.com/hoods/hayesbarton/images/masonictemple.jpg[/img]
As you can see, another picture of the angle:
[t]http://www.hiram40.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Front-From-the-South-Expanded-Long-View.jpg[/t]
If you look to the right of the flag, you'll notice the open window. That's where he was.
[editline]20th March 2013[/editline]
Too lazy to fix typos, try to understand my insane grammar as best as you can.
no skeletons popping out 0/10
[QUOTE=Pernoccuous;39977765]no skeletons popping out 0/10[/QUOTE]
Atleast I tried.
[QUOTE=Strider_07;39976136][img]http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/001/702/fairy.jpg[/img]
reminds me of this[/QUOTE]
Let me guess, this comes from a Jungi Ito manga?
Reminds me of that comic where that boy is looking through the telescope and he sees the woman across the other building. Can anyone find that?
Sounds like the movie "Let me in."
Hey guys, remember these books?
Oh how I remember these books.
[img]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-byDCCIG1uv8/UHiXzLnt5WI/AAAAAAAAAU0/DuxQoGM2v08/s1600/Scary-stories-to-tell-in-the-dark-2.jpg[/img]
[img]http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20121201013942/halloween/images/4/49/Me_tie_dough_ty_walker.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj302/JASONABADBOY4U2/MORE%20SCARY%20STORIES%20TO%20TELL%20IN%20THE%20DARK/SCARYSTORYWONDERFULSAUSAGE.jpg[/img]
[img]http://scourgedaggerandchain.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/scary6.jpg[/img]
[img]http://theyearofhalloween.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/stephen-gammell-illustration-scary-stories-to-tell-in-the-dark.jpg[/img]
[img]http://theyearofhalloween.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/stephen-gammell-illustrations-for-scary-stories-to-tell-in-the-dark-series.jpg[/img]
[img]http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4me3owugA1qczwklo1_1280.gif[/img]
[img]http://i852.photobucket.com/albums/ab85/KaBlamoid4Life/sc33bu8.jpg[/img]
[img]http://www.blogcdn.com/www.comicsalliance.com/media/2010/10/sc9pi8.gif[/img]
[img]http://uncoolghoul.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/stories-to-tell.jpg[/img]
That was the shit when I was younger.
I spent nights up reading those.
Oh fuck you, right before bed. Damn it.
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