I Told You To Smile
It was the 2nd of January, 2:04 AM. I woke up to a knocking on the door. One knock every 3 seconds. I slipped on my slippers and walked down the stairs. As I walked down, the knocking on the door got faster, almost like a heartbeat. When I got to the door, the knocking stopped, I looked outside and nobody was there.
I went back up to my room and went back to bed, thinking it was just some kids playing a prank. At 4:21 AM I woke up to the front door slamming shut. I jumped, terrified. I looked over at my frosted window to find “smile” written all over it in the frost. I grabbed my phone next to me, ready to call 911, only to find a message written on it saying “I told you to smile”. I cried and ran for my life running outside.
As soon as I got outside I knocked on my neighbors house across the road. They answered and held me while I sobbed. They phoned the police. At exactly 5:42, the police came to my neighbors house after an extensive search of my house. They told me there had been no evidence at all of anyone in my house other than me. The messages on the window were gone, same with my phone. They told me to get some sleep and advised me to see the doctor about stress and anxiety problems. Fuck that. I knew what happened to me was real.
Right now, there is a thin man in a skin tight black suit sitting in your closet.
His bony knees bent to his chest, his spidery white fingers wrapped around his ankles. He sits there, and has been sitting there since you began reading this.
His name is Greed. Can you hear his breathing yet?
Now that you are aware of his existance, if you open your closet door you will see him sitting there. Immediately his expressionless face will smile, and his sharp green eyes will lock onto yours. You may open and close the closet as much as you wish, and you may leave him there for as long as you like, but he will never go away. And everytime you look inside your closet he will still be there, his glassy eyes following yours. Only you will see him. Don’t attempt to tell anyone else, they will only question your sanity.
If you ignore Greed, gradually he will take over your existance. When you look in the mirror you will see him standing behind you, smiling his eerie smile. You will see him sitting in the back of your car as you drive home late from work. As you turn the lights off downstairs and you run up the steps to the safety of your bedroom, he will be running behind you, even if you do not turn to look you will hear a second pair of footsteps.
Tapping. I could hear tapping.
My eyes drifted to the faint glow of my alarm clock. 4:42AM. I knew I’d be up in only an hour, so I closed my eyes again. What had woken me in the first place tapped loudly once more, louder than the first few. My heart pounded in my chest. I was wide awake now, but too fearful to move.
Maybe it was Mittens, I told myself. I really did want to believe it was my cat, but she still remained at the edge of my bed. She stared at me with her large green eyes, and meowed. She didn’t seem bothered by the noise at all, and she’d been a skittish cat as long as I’d known her.
Obviously, it had to have been my imagination. I gave up on sleep and stood on my hardwood floor, walked to my computer to retrieve my houseshoes from the desk, then stopped.
The tapping started again, with a few scratches and scraping that almost made it sound like broken Morse code. Tap, tap-tap, scratch, tap, tap.
I turned, wondering if Mittens had followed me and managed to make the sudden noises. But no, Mittens was gone. My closet door had been opened just a crack, just enough for Mittens to have gone inside. I guess I left it open before I slept. I flipped the light switch on my way to the closet. Just as I reached for the doorknob, something soft brushed across the back of my leg. I nearly screamed, it had startled me so badly, and I stumbled backwards onto the floor. I stared at my bed’s underneath, staring into a pair of playful green eyes that shone white in the light. I didn’t expect to see Mittens whole body, seeing as she was a black cat with a name fitting for her white paws. I chuckled nervously, my heartbeat still pounding in my ears, and crawled towards the bed. I said her name, hoping to lure her out without reaching under the bed, knowing the skittish cat would most likely scratch me out of fear. The eyes blinked, and I heard her meow.
Keeper of Eternity
Over the past millennium, science and medicine has advanced so far as to put miracles in the hands of men. Many of the diseases that were fatal merely five hundred years ago now have cures or at least treatments thanks to the brilliant minds of man. That being so, there’s still one fatal infirmity humanity has yet to overcome, and that’s mortality.
For those devoted enough, however, there is yet a way. Located just off the East Coast of North America somewhere is a shrine dating as far back as the earliest recorded civilizations. Lost to the ages now, there is but one path to this shrine, and it still sends its call, as if daring the hardiest of man to make that perilous voyage.
If you find yourself in Savannah, GA someday and think you’d like to play your hand at immortality, simply hop in your car and continue east out of town along E President Street and continue along it until it turns into Islands Expressway. If the forces deem you worthy, or if they’re simply in the mood to watch in amusement as you throw your life away, the sky will darken with rainclouds–even if it was clear and blue only moments before–and the forest about you will seem to glow. Keep your eyes peeled and you should see a turn-off into the woods a few minutes after this happens.
Now if you’re carrying a map you’ll probably notice this path is not indicated anywhere on it, but pay that no heed. Continue along the tight and densely overgrown path at a slow pace, for if you go off the road here, you’ll have no hope of ever finding your way out of this forest, and no tow-truck will ever find the turn-off to come retrieve you. Simply follow the path before you–for while there are many bends, there are no turn-offs from this one. The trees will only grow denser as you progress, until the limbs scrape like fingers along the top of your vehicle (you should probably note that it would be a very bad idea to undergo this journey in a convertible).
Eventually, after approximately forty-five minutes to an hour of driving, you should come to a dead end, where the trees tighten about you like a noose around a doomed man’s neck. If you have a GPS system in your car it will proclaim that you’re about fifteen miles into the Atlantic Ocean. Do not attempt to reverse at this point, for you’ll find that the path is no longer there. Check your watch, or your phone, or your car’s read-out for the time, for regardless of the time of day not a single ray of light will spill through these densely packed trees. If it is dark out, or if it will be dark out within the next few hours do not open your door, and do not turn off your headlights. You may turn off your car every so often to save gas, but you’ll want to crank it up again periodically to keep your battery from dying. If you let down your guard in this forest at night, you’re as good as dead.
If you were wise enough to start this trip early enough, and it’s still light out, you may exit the car at this point. You’ll notice the trees around you leaning in your direction, as if peering down at you curiously. In a loud assertive voice proclaim, “I am here to claim my fate, and none here shall stand in my way.”
You’ll hear a sound behind you. When you turn to look you’ll notice a small path that hadn’t been there before. Do not hesitate, do not question it, simply walk purposefully forward and start down the path before you’re trapped in that clearing indefinitely. The path may wind drastically, depending on which way you were facing when it was created, simply continue walking and do not look back, no matter how loud the rustling gets behind you.
You’ll soon find yourself ankle-deep in a swamp, and you may find the sound of frogs croaking a soothing change from the forest’s lively rustling. It would be most wise at this point to find the longest thickest branch you can, for the marshes of Georgia can hide the nastiest creatures in only a foot of water, so you’ll need to feel your way along like a blind man.
Only about 10 yards from the forest-line the land drops off into the ocean, and unless the forces are feeling particularly cruel you should be able to see the log poking up out of the water right away. If not, you’ll need to search, and it may take a while but once you’re near it there’s no mistaking it. Walk until you feel the ground break away beneath you, then get into the water. When you’re touching the log, you’ll want to take in the largest lungful of breath you can manage, then dive under and swim to the bottom as quickly as you can. It will be a long swim but do not turn around, even if you think you’re about to faint. Swim as fast as you can and keep going down, keeping a hand on the log until you come out the other side.
You’ll resurface in a pond in the middle of a dark forest much similar to the one you just exited, only just at the edge of the pond will be an ancient building of indeterminable origin. Go inside. Fires will be lit, marking your path to the shrine of the Keeper. A large statue, the likeness of the Keeper, will stand at the far wall and at his feet will be an empty bowl. Address the Keeper in a loud, confident voice, saying “I’ve come very far, and all I ask for is something to drink.”
His response will be a single, very personal question, and he will speak it directly into your mind, so listen carefully. When he has asked his question, do not take too long to answer, and answer only in the truth. BE VERY PRECISE WITH YOUR ANSWER. He will know if you’re trying to hide something. Once you have answered him completely, the bowl at his feet will fill with a strange liquid. This liquid will reflect the entire rainbow’s spectrum of colors, and it will bear no scent. You must drink this liquid, or you will never leave the forest alive. Depending on whether or not the Keeper liked your answer and deems you worthy, the liquid may be plain tap water, or a lethal poison. If it is the latter, you will only know once the symptoms begin to take hold. If it is the former, you will be free to leave.
The forest will part before you, showing you the exit, much like the years will part before you, leaving you alone to endure the eons. You will see your family and loved ones die, and you will see wars begin and end, but you will never die. You will see the sun explode and the earth burned to a cinder, but you will never die. You will know the true meaning of eternal life.
Credited to Chris Phoenix.
The Missing Children
Once, long ago, there were these deep, dark woods that many children were terrified of. There was an old woman living in a cottage out there, and many people claimed she was a witch. She seemed nice enough, but she always had this look in her eye when she saw children, as if she were eyeing them as prey. Now, many women would visit this old lady in hopes of learning their future and whatnot, and learning home remedies for illnesses, and gaining knowledge of some old wives’ tales. Sometimes, the woman would even sell herbal tinctures and potions and things of the like. Every now and then, a mother would send her child out to purchase one of these items from the elderly woman.
But sometimes, the child would not return.
This is where I saw things getting strange. The old woman would invite the child to sit down and have some food and a drink. The child would sit down at the table and take a bite of the cookies set before them, only for their mouth to grow dry. They had lost the ability to speak, or make any noise at all. Thirsty from that horribly dry feeling in their throat, they would take a drink, only to realize soon that it was growing harder and harder to move. They were becoming paralyzed. While the child was paralyzed and mute, the witch would cut off their arms, legs, and head, baking the torso to have her meal, which was likely the source of her living for so long.
Later, she would shrink and petrify these parts and fit them onto plush bodies, fashioning dolls out of them. Such beautiful dolls always fetched a high price at the marketplace. Sometimes, the mothers of the lost children would buy the dolls with such a likeness to their missing child as a keepsake, unknowingly keeping their child’s remains.
I love you. You love me too, don’t you? Of course you do. The ring on my finger proves it. Silly me for ever thinking otherwise.
Sweety? Why do you look scared? It’s just me. Amy. The woman you promised your love to twelve years ago. “Not even at death will we part.” Remember that? It was your vow to me. You told me, time and time again, that you would love me forever. That you would stay by my side and never leave me.
You look pale. I know I left for a while, but you don’t need to treat me like I’m a monster. I had good reason. I had to recover from that wreck I got in. I spent a lot of time in that hospital, so a little time away was needed. The place I went was so peaceful, but I missed you. I want to go back, but not without you.
Quit looking at me like that! I know I look a little different. Nobody would look the same after a wreck like that. But wasn’t it you that said my inner beauty is all that counts? That my face could be melted off by acid, and you would still kiss it every night? Well, kiss me. Come on! You promised. I’ll cry if you don’t.
There we go. See? It’s still me. Now, come with me, like you promised. We need to leave now, so I can show you around the place. We also need to get settled there before our little girl gets out of the hospital.
You heard, right? Well, little Lily had to stay in the hospital a little longer than I did. But she’s leaving soon, and she’s going straight to the place we’re going. This is so exciting. We finally get to be a family again.
Baby, why are you crying? Please stop. This is a good thing. For all of us. Our family will be together in a nice, safe place. Oh, and I forgot to tell you the best part! My parents are there! They’re going to help us settle in. Isn’t that amazing? You and Lily finally get to meet my parents. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.
Quit arguing. You vowed to me that you would stay with me forever, and I don’t take vows lightly. Plus, Lily’s going there, and she can’t be left without her father.
I’m so excited you finally agreed. Pack? No. Everything we need is already there. There are special arrangements for the three of us. I just needed to come get you.
Knife? What, this? Oh, it’s nothing. You love me, right? Good. Close your eyes. Now, kiss me before we leave.
I love you.
I was fifteen when it happened. My sister was five. It started on her fifth birthday, when she received one of those dolls that’s supposed to look like the owner. It was a standard doll, the same height as my sister, red hair, freckles; it even came with an outfit matching its own for my sister. The only out of the ordinary part were its eyes. My sister had very strange eyes, blue with flecks of brown near the pupil. I used to tease her they looked like toilet bowls with poop floating in them. I’d never seen another person with eyes like this, but the dolls matched them perfectly. I don’t recall who gave her the doll, but I thought whoever it was had taken the time to repaint the eyes as a special touch.
After she opened gifts, my sister and her friends began running around, dressing up, the usual little kid stuff. I, not wanting to get stuck babysitting, snuck off to my room and shut the door. I was immersed in a scary story I was reading, when I heard the door creek open. Naturally, and considering what I was reading, I flipped my shit and turned around as fast as I could. Sitting nudged between the mostly shut door and the frame was my sister’s doll. Had there not been a gang of little kids in my house, I might’ve gotten a bit scared, but I was sure one (or all) of them had placed it there as a prank. I brought the doll back downstairs and that was the last I heard of it for a few months, save for my sisters stories and packing it around with her constantly.
Two months later, things got weird. My sister ran downstairs one day screaming that her doll was being mean to her. Knowing it was just her imagination, but no wanting to upset her, I firmly reprimanded the doll in front of her, then put it on the top shelf of my sister’s closet. She seemed satisfied that justice had been served, and I was a bit glad not to see that thing around anymore. It was a bit creepy how much it looked like my sister. I thought of the times I’d seen her asleep with it, and wondered if I could even tell the difference in the dark. But that was beside the point, because without my or my parent’s help the doll would be trapped in the closet, and I certainly wouldn’t be taking it down.
Later that night, I heard my sister screaming. I ran into the room to see the doll at the foot of her bed. It wasn’t even leaning on something, just standing there, staring at her. I grabbed the doll and bolted down the stairs. My parents came out to see me going down and asked what was going on, but I didn’t stop to explain. I stuffed the doll in our trashcan, the blue and brown eyes stared up at you, almost in an angry way. When I went back inside my sister was back asleep, having been calmed down by my parents, and I was glad to be done with the ordeal. Or so I thought.
The next morning as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw my sister at my door. I blinked at my blurry morning sight, and when I opened my eyes again she was gone. I walked to her room only to see her sound asleep. Odd, I thought. It must have been a trick of the eye. But later that night it happened again. I was awoken by footsteps and saw what I thought was my sister standing just outside my door. I turned to switch the light on, only to see there was no one there. Once again she was fast asleep in her room when I checked. The garbage hadn’t yet been picked up, so I decided to check the bin tomorrow morning. Maybe my dad was playing tricks on me. The next morning, as I suspected, the trash was empty. While we ate breakfast I confronted my dad.
“Dad, did you put Jane’s doll outside my room last night or this morning?” I asked.
“What? Don’t be stupid, that doll’s out in the trash where you left it”
“No, I checked, it wasn’t there”
“Well maybe some kid saw it and wanted it for themselves, how should I know where the damn thing went?”
That was the end of the matter. Strange, but I shrugged it off. God I regret that.
That night my sister was scared, so I agreed to stay in her room. All night we heard terrible things. Whispers and laughs I swear were in my sister’s voice, footsteps above and around us, we were petrified. But soon enough the noises stopped and sleep outweighed fear. I dreamed of the doll, sneaking into the room with us. But in my dream, it occurred to me that ripping the dolls head off would stop it. To this day I don’t know where I got that thought, but I wish I hadn’t. I awoke to see the doll lying next to my sister in her bed, but I thought I knew what I needed to do. I grabbed the doll in the dark and held it down; I remember it felt heavier than I remembered. I grabbed hold of the hair, so lifelike, and pulled as hard as I could. I looked into the dolls eyes, I had to pull harder than I thought to get the head off the doll, and it looked as if there were fear in its eyes. Finally there was a sickening rip, and the head popped off. I smiled, only then realizing how tired I was. I laid down, kicking the head and body away so I could sleep.
I woke to the sound of screaming. My mother was hysterical; I saw her run into the room, her faced covered in tears. I looked around me, I was surrounded by blood. It was on the floor and on my hands. My mother continued to shriek as she held the dolls head close to her chest, why was she so upset? I’d saved us! Where was all this blood coming from?
I looked around, and lying in my sisters bed, I saw the doll.
My cousin recently moved here from Secunderabad, India. On a recent road trip exploring America, we were shootin shit and exchanging ghost stories and laughing at similarities and differences between American ghost stories and Indian ghost stories when I asked her if she’s ever experienced anything supernatural. Her eyes widened as she averted her eyes to the window. Just when the silence was about to be too much for me, she softly responded “Yes. A few. One is troubling.”
“When I was a second year in college, I stayed at in an all-girl hostel [dorm]. I made many friends. We were all very happy to be in school away from our conservative parents. The hostel was so much fun, but it was a very very old building. Electricity was only put in the rooms. Sometimes, candles were placed along the windows if a watchman was present, but normally once you left the rooms, you were faced with complete darkness. It’s common to wake up someone if you needed to walk down to the restroom at the end of the hall. We all had a childish fear of being alone in the dark.
One night, I had to use the restroom. It was about 4am. I went to my friend’s bed and tapped her on the arm. She immediately opened her eyes as soon as I touched her. I apologized for bothering her, and told her I needed to pee. She smiled at me and hopped out of bed. All the way down the hallway, she laughed and danced. I could not see her at all, but her bangles clanked together loudly and the bells on her anklets jingled softly. It was very calming. I laughed and sashayed my hips down the hallway with her, too tired to match elaborate arm movements. She said nothing to me, though occasionally I heard her hum one of our favorite Bollywood songs. The same thing happened on our return. I fell back asleep easily.
I awoke fairly late the next morning to the sound of men in our room. They surrounded her bed. I bolted from my bed, prepared to protect my friend, when I realized they were administrators of the college. I peered over closer. My friend’s lifeless eyes were fixated on my bed; the same smile on her face. Suicide. Her time of death was 11:30pm, almost 5 hours before I woke her.”
This is one creepypasta that actually made me sad when I read it.
You try to sleep, but the noises keep you awake, It’s like something’s scratching on wood.
And Growling. You tell yourself it’s only the wind, and only the trees outside, but the sound
goes on. And on. And on.
Finally, you just can’t take it. You stand up, turning the lights on. The sound is coming from
your front door. You talk into the living room on unsteady legs, and the growling gets louder,
the scraping more pronounced, more… vicious. With shaking hands, you reach for the
telephone… and the noises stopped. Like they never were there.
For what feels like hours, you stand there with the phone in your hand, waiting for the sounds to begin again.
Thy never do. Finally, heart in you throat, unable to stop yourself, you walk to the door. You open it…. on the night air.
Nothing. You study the door. It should be almost clawed to pieces, you could have swore you heard the wood start to give. But it’s unmarked. You shake your head. Just your imagination. Then you close the door.
The claw marks are on the inside.