Can we get a spook thread up in this shit?

Can we get a spook thread up in this shit?

>no pop-up bullshit
>things that legitimately make you uneasy
>gore is cheating

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=1akxppIR3Io
youtu.be/qV0I-iA5lJU
twitter.com/SFWRedditGifs

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they look like they belong together, where are they from?

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omg

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story

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Post more insane landscapes. It is weirdly comforting .

can't really remember, i think some parent went insane

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Bumping for this. I used to know the source and im on shitty mobile so i cant image search.

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tanaka suguru

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thanks dude

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Anyone got some open water/ocean shit? As much as i fear it, i love to look at it.

>funny enough im even scared of open water in videogames
>idk if thats normal but whatever
>y'all aint seein me swimming in any game water
>esp if it has anything in it
>even super mario 64 levels
>fuck that shit and fuck those eels

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Sometime in July of 2008, this journal was found on a game trail somewhere in northern Michigan, seemingly belonging to a man named Donavan Grike, who went missing two months prior in Cheboygan, Michigan. Origins are mostly unknown. Some contents may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
Journal Entry
9:45 pm
Second of May, 2008
I found something in the alleyway behind the bar in which I work. It was sitting on one of the garbage cans when I went out to have a smoke. It didn’t intrigue me at first, but as I stood out there it started to. After I finished my cigarette I picked it up. It was a map of some sort, written on old, wrinkled paper. It looks like an old pirate map. I don’t know quite what it is at the moment, but I’ll look into it.
Journal Entry
11:40 am
Fourth of May, 2008
I completely forgot about that map until a few hours ago. I had left it in my car for the past few days, so I went and got it. Upon further inspection, I realised the map started from an old lake in my area. I don’t know quite where it leads, but I hope it leads to something valuable.
Journal Entry
7:06 pm
Eleventh of May, 2008
I finally got the next few days off of work, and I’m going to use them to see where this map goes.
Journal Entry
5:32 am
Twelfth of May, 2008
I got a knapsack with a sleeping tarp, a bottle of water, more granola bars than I know what to do with, a flashlight, and a Bowie knife. I’m on my way to the lake now. It’s about an hour away from my house. I can’t wait to start.
Journal Entry
6:54 am

Thanks my man, i appreciate it!

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Cthullu is that u?

Twelfth of May, 2008
I finally got to the lake. Traffic was a bitch. This early, too. But, I can at least get started.
Journal Entry
Twelfth of May, 2008
9:01 am
I’ve been following this map for a couple of hours now. It’s leading me down some sort of game trail. I keep passing these trees with the letter “N” carved into them, and an arrow pointing in the way of which the map is leading me. This thing now has my attention…
Journal Entry
12:25 pm
Twelfth of May, 2008
I’m passing these signs, now. They’re reading things like “CAUTION” and “BEWARE OF CREATURES”. I didn’t know there were any dangerous animals out here. I’ll keep my knife close, just in case I run into a bear or something.
Journal Entry
1:34 pm
Twelfth of May, 2008
These signs are getting a little more menacing. They’re saying things like “TURN BACK” and “STAY OUT”. What the hell? I keep thinking I should, but something keeps telling me to keep going. What should I do? You know what, I’ll flip a coin. Heads I turn back, tails I keep going.

Tails.

Ok, then. Onward…
Journal Entry
3:26 pm
Twelfth of May, 2008
I finally came across something other than trees and creepy signs. It looks like some old town, but it seems to be abandoned. Its front gate reads “Nashaka Village”. I’ve never heard of this place. The map ends here. Maybe whoever made this map wants me to look for whatever is hidden here. Touché, map. Touché.
Journal Entry
7:09 pm
Twelfth of May, 2008
I’ve looked these houses high and low and I’ve come up with nothing. Wait… there’s a door over there. I don’t remember seeing that. Well, onwards.
Journal Entry
12:56 am

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Thirteenth of May, 2008
I’ve been stuck in here for hours. I should have never followed that fucking map. Ok, I’d better fill you in. Remember that door? Well, I went in. It led right down to a basement, and it was pitch black. I turned on my flashlight, and I came across some sort of ritual site. There was a mummified human corpse in the middle. The skulls of animals surrounded it, and they were filled with beeswax and had the letter “N” written in blood on the cranium. I decided I probably shouldn’t be in there, and when I went to leave I heard something behind me. When I looked the mummy was starting to get up. It was all jerky and, now that I think about it, reminded me of Gollum by the way it moved. I don’t think it could see me, because its eyes so dry they disintegrated when it stood, but it sniffed the air, and screeched at me. I high-tailed out of there faster than I have ever ran before. However, I dropped the Bowie like an idiot. I just kept running, and when I got to the gate it was closed. And locked. I looked behind me, and saw that more mummies were coming in my direction. Where the hell did they come from? That doesn’t matter. I eventually locked myself in a storage shed or something. I can hear them at the door now. They keep scratching on it, and moaning. It’s enough to drive any man mad. Maybe I can escape through one of the windows.
Journal Entry
3:29 am

no problemo

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Thirteenth of May, 2008
I shouldn’t have tried that. When I jumped out the window a mummy got me by the leg and bit me. I’m pretty sure it severed a tendon. I managed to climb over the fence with one leg. I don’t even know how I did. I just did. I’ve been dragging myself along the path for about three hours, but I doubt I’ll get out of here alive. I’ve lost a lot of blood, and I’m still bleeding. I keep hearing something move about the woods around me. It could be a hungry scavenger, like a coyote, our it could be… no. I just have to keep going. If anybody find this, tell Krista I love her.
-The journal ends here. The town was never found, and neither was Donavan. It is unknown if he survived, but judging by the blood stains on the pages he most likely didn’t. Many search parties were sent out to find him, but none have found his body. If you have any information on this, please contact the police.

still looks like vayayay frominside

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i love the art style in this one

Aw yeah thats the stuff man i love getting spooked

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where is this picture from? seen it for years and always wondered

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Are they spooky math people one person has geometric shapes and i swear the dress on the right says calculous

Silent film maybe?

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Begotten (1990)

math. not even once

Same here, i'd love a source on it

SCP-093
Shit's spooky yo

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>>things that legitimately make you uneasy
This:

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lul thats what i thought too
lets be honest though, math is some scary stuff

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love this one.

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youtube.com/watch?v=1akxppIR3Io

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Damn, OO here. Just wanna thank y'all anons for sharing. I was gonna share too, but i cant find my damn spook folder... I have some generic kinda eerie stuff if y'all want it

So thanks and let's keep the thread going!
Discuss horror movies, books, manga, anime, whatever. Horror is my favorite genre... And btw if anyone wants horror manga hmu ive read SO many

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FUCKING CHILL

:(((((((((((((((((((

I fucking glanced at the picture and thought the guy on the left was
1. An open mouth and his head was the dangly thing
And then
2. A vagina

Good job me

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Say what you will, real or fake, but honestly this scares the hell out of me. Just the thought, the idea •_•

You have been visited by the trips fairy!

#999 brought to you by the letters (O)il and (Cream). Congratulations!

Fuck you, bitchtits.

Someone say spook thread?

holy shit i didn't even notice
thank you, my friend

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that, im pretty sure, is from a movie

You have been visited by the trips fairy!

#222 brought to you by the letter (A)ss. Congratulations!

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Doot doot

October 15th, 2018, was the best and worst day of my life. It was the best day of my life, because my wife had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. It was the worst day of my life, because my wife went into a self-induced coma, resulting from excessive blood loss. I took my new son Sam home that day, and left my sick wife at the hospital. I was filled with so much sadness, yet so much love all at the same time. Every night, I put my baby boy to sleep, and I was filled with absolute peace and joy. I had never seen a baby sleep as soundly as my son did. Every night, I wished I could hold my wife as we watched our son dream the night away. I wanted so badly to retain these wonderful images I had of Sam, and I knew my wife would want them too. I knew I had to do something.

this reminds me of my neighbours
a mom and her daughter, they both have long hair like this and never talk to anybody
really spooky

My next door neighbor and his wife gave birth to a little girl named Cindy, two years prior. I remembered them showing me a scrap book filled with gorgeous sketches of animals, candies, toys and things of that sort. The sketches were created by a machine called dream sketch. The machine worked like a polygraph device, except it sketched whatever a person or child was dreaming of at that given time. I knew right then and there that I had found the answer I was looking for. When I brought the machine home, it came complete with a moderately sized sketching machine that came with a stack of paper, extra ink and two small wireless sensors (that were to be placed on the right and left sides of the head of the dreamer). Later that night, I cradled my young son to sleep. I then put the two small sensors on both sides of Sam’s head, and turned on the machine. The machine buzzed softly on into the night. I stayed in Sam’s room for nearly an hour, before I went to bed, periodically watching the dream sketch and watching Sam sleep. I was excited as a kid before Christmas, waiting to see what my son would dream up.

When I awoke the next morning, I went into Sam’s room to wake him up. Sam laid calmly in his crib, as he stared at me smiling. Just as I was going to pick up Sam, I remembered the dream sketch. A single sheet of paper lay on the floor next to the dream sketch. As I picked up the sheet of paper, I could clearly see it was a drawing of my wife lying in her hospital bed, fast asleep. Strange that such an image would be made from a new born child, but there was something else that was odd about this drawing. Something that I couldn’t quite figure out. It was then that I received the phone call. I don’t recall who it was that gave me the news that day. It could have been a man or even a woman for all I know. But what I do know for sure are the words that were spoken to me. “Your wife is dead.” It was then I knew what was odd about the sketch in my hand. My wife’s electrocardiogram was flat lined. With tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, there laid Sam calmly on his back, still staring at me, still smiling.

Shit man thats too far thats some fucked up shit dude

I returned the dream sketch back to the store I bought it from, and screamed at the employee who sold it to me. The employee did their best to explain to me that they have no control over what the dream sketch draws, that of course is all up to the person the dream sketch is hooked up to. The employee apologized profusely for the inconvenience, but I was inconsolable at that point. I was in a complete daze from the shock of my dead wife, and knowledge that her death was foretold. Who it was foretold by was the real question at hand. Was it a mistake? Did the dream sketch have a malfunction of some sort? Was there no malfunction at all? Or was it my baby son that indeed dreamt of the death of my poor, departed wife? There was only one way to know for sure and the answer terrified me.

I left the store with a new dream sketch, and waited anxiously for night fall. It was difficult for me to rock Sam too sleep that night. He kept staring at me and smiling that damn smile of his. Eventually, he fell asleep and slept soundly while I frantically opened the box to the dream sketch and put all the necessary pieces in order. Once I connected the sensors to the right and left sides of Sam’s head, I sat there in Sam’s room, quietly in the dark. I listened to the quiet hum of the dream sketch and waited for the drawing needles to start sketching something. My heart beat increased with every minute that the night consumed, and still I watched the drawing needles. Bags under my eyes started to form as the moon shifted its position in the sky. My heart beat began to decrease, as I tried desperately hard to stay awake, and watch the drawing needles. The machine continued to hum throughout the night, as I fell asleep in my rocking chair, rocking myself into a deep sleep.

I awoke in a sweat, as I could feel Sam’s eyes staring into my subconscious. I locked eyes with my son, as he continued to smile that same damn smile and I was frowning my same damn frown. I then looked down at the dream sketch and noticed another single sheet of paper lying down on the floor below. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to the paper, frightened as a child in the dark. I wanted nothing more than to crumple the paper up and burn it and never know what was drawn on it, but I couldn’t. I had to know what was on the paper. I had to know who foretold my wife’s death. I reluctantly looked at the paper, and held my breathe at the gruesome sight that lay before me. I looked on at the sheet of paper that had a drawing of a lunatic of a man carrying a bloody shotgun in one hand, and a sheet of paper in the other hand. Two gory bodies lay on the floor below him. One of the bodies was of a young woman in her mid-twenties. The other body was of a little girl, lying down dead next to a dream sketch. I recognized these people. I recognized that lunatic of a man. God help me, I knew who these people were.

I looked out the window toward my next door neighbor’s house, and saw fire trucks and cop cars and several ambulances. When I walked outside, I spoke with one of the police officers on my neighbor’s lawn. He told me that my neighbor used his dream sketch on his wife. When my neighbor woke up and looked on at the sheet of paper that his dream sketch produced, it was of his wife having a sex with another man in a room, as his daughter Cindy lay in a basket being carried by a stork. The officer told me that my neighbor had gone insane and murdered his wife and daughter with a shotgun. After completing the heinous act, my neighbor put both barrels of the shotgun into his mouth and fired.
It was clear to me then, that my new born son was a master of evil. But how? How could a baby know such terror? How could a baby foresee evil things to come? Could he in fact be an evil being? Or could he just see things to come and these things just so happen to be the forces of evil? No. How could one see such evil, such terror, such brutality and sleep so soundly at night? I knew then what must be done. I knew then that Sam, my baby boy, had to die.

bye b

I stampeded up the stairs in a rage, toward my child’s bedroom. Blood pumped through my veins like never before, as I was prepared to do the unthinkable. I swung open Sam’s door so ferociously that it made a gaping hole, when it slammed against the wall. I expected to hear Sam cry from the loud crash, but only silence was heard. When I approached the crib, Sam was fast asleep. He slept as calmly and sweetly as ever before. But I knew what he was. I knew the true evil that lurked behind those eyes that stared at me so deeply, and that mouth that smiled that damn smile. I can admit that at this point, I had gone completely mad. I wanted Sam to wake up. I wanted him to see what I was about to do to him. I wanted him to show me that damn smile one last time, as I choked the life from his retched little body. I grabbed my son’s throat and I squeezed. I squeezed until the all the blood in my body had gone to my head. Blood pulsated throughout my veins as I squeezed. I was squeezing so hard that I hadn’t breathed a breath of air for nearly a minute, and I almost passed out. I collapsed to do the ground afterwards.

Math Club 1800's

After I killed my only son. I cried for a while. I cried and pleaded to God, and asked him if I did the right thing. It was then that I noticed a sheet of paper next to the dream sketch. I picked up the single sheet of paper and held it to my face. It was a drawing of me strangling my baby son in his crib. I killed my son. I killed Sam. I never knew whether or not Sam could see the evil things to come, or if he made these evil things happen. But I did what I did and I would do it again today.

-Confession statement made by Vincent Marshall regarding the murder of Samuel Marshall. Confession taken at Los Angeles County Police Department on December the 21st, 2018 at approximately 5:55 p.m.

Heck yeah spooky story time i love ya user

Inform the muslims and the nignogs this instant, math is evil and no good will come of it

Harambe?

Are they hot?

Reed?

useless fuckin garbage

nah the daughter is like at least older than 30 and they both always look tired

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kek

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No problem Cred Forumsro

Checking all the files before opening to make sure they aren't a .gif

It's a movie called Begotten. This scene is God's suicide and it doesn't get much more cheerful or coherent from there. It's on Youtube, I think.

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Shuttup Jon.

Im actually checking for the gifs happily. I dont want a jumpscare or anything, but i love to get spooked

Mr. Mackey?

Faggot

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Russian researchers in the late 1940s kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn’t kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.

The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during World War II.

Everything was fine for the first five days; the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.

After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself…

After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the length of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it… or rather didn’t react to it. They continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. The 2 non-screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly stopped.

So did the whispering to the microphones.

No, it's Cthulhu, you tard.

Russian Sleep Experiment is overrated

After 3 more days passed. The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make sure they were working, since they thought it impossible that no sound could be coming with 5 people inside. The oxygen consumption in the chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. In fact it was the amount of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy level of strenuous exercise. On the morning of the 14th day the researchers did something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, hoping to provoke any response from the captives they were afraid were either dead or vegetables.

They announced: “We are opening the chamber to test the microphones step away from the door and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn one of you your immediate freedom.”

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Thanks i actually am a fag. A bonafide gay right here.

O have it same i have when i have to go deep in water in games but somehow i must look at it

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Post your own shit then or stfu

To their surprise they heard a single phrase in a calm voice response: “We no longer want to be freed.”

Debate broke out among the researchers and the military forces funding the research. Unable to provoke any more response using the intercom it was finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.

The chamber was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with fresh air and immediately voices from the microphones began to object. 3 different voices began begging, as if pleading for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, and so did the soldiers when they saw what was inside. Four of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could rightly call the state that any of them in ‘life.’

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The food rations past day 5 had not been so much as touched. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject’s thighs and chest stuffed into the drain in the center of the chamber, blocking the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Precisely how much of the water on the floor was actually blood was never determined. All four ‘surviving’ test subjects also had large portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on their finger tips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the researchers initially thought. Closer examination of the position and angles of the wounds indicated that most if not all of them were self-inflicted.

[concentrated triggering]

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nigga that ain't scary, that's my wallpaper

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Funny how everything anyone says that isn't nice is now considered being triggered. Calm your ass hairs faggot. I was just saying that you either post your own shit or stfu.

The abdominal organs below the ribcage of all four test subjects had been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm remained in place, the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs had been ripped off, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had just been taken out and laid on the floor, fanning out around the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the course of days.

Most of the soldiers were Russian special operatives at the facility, but still many refused to return to the chamber to remove the test subjects. They continued to scream to be left in the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep…

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To everyone’s surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight in the process of being removed from the chamber. One of the Russian soldiers died from having his throat ripped out, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject’s teeth. Another 5 of the soldiers lost their lives if you count ones that committed suicide in the weeks following the incident.

In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for another 3 minutes, struggling to attack anyone in reach and just repeating the word “MORE” over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.

The surviving three test subjects were heavily restrained and moved to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the gas demanding to be kept awake…

The most injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back within his body it was found that he was effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought furiously against his restraints when the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear most of the way through a 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even through the weight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took only a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that died on the operating table it was found that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his struggle to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.

Oh fuck man i gotta piss dont do this shit to me

>do it more
>im a masochistic fuck

The second survivor had been the first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords destroyed he was unable to beg or object to surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval when the anesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when someone suggested, reluctantly, they try the surgery without anesthetic, and did not react for the entire 6 hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be medically possible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his eyes met hers.

When the surgery ended the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient could write his message. It was simple. “Keep cutting.”

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The other two test subjects were given the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects could only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they were soon trying to escape their bonds. The moment they could speak they were again asking for the stimulant gas. The researchers tried asking why they had injured themselves, why they had ripped out their own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again.

Only one response was given: “I must remain awake.”

All three subject’s restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination as to what should be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath of their military ‘benefactors’ for having failed the stated goals of their project considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The commanding officer, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what would happen if they were put back on the gas. The researchers strongly objected, but were overruled.

In preparation for being sealed in the chamber again the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone’s surprise all three stopped struggling the moment it was let slip that they were going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay awake. One of subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were monitoring his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.

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The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed the same flatlines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and blew his brains out as well.

He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the remaining members of the medical and research team fled the room. “I won’t be locked in here with these things! Not with you!” he screamed at the man strapped to the table. “WHAT ARE YOU?” he demanded. “I must know!”

The subject smiled.

“Have you forgotten so easily?” The subject asked. “We are you. We are the madness that lurks within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind. We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread.”

The researcher paused. Then aimed at the subject’s heart and fired. The EEG flatlined as the subject weakly choked out, “So… nearly… free…”

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what's the spook?

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Fake and gay faggot

is this based on the TV show The Strain?

This is what the 9/11 memorial will look like one day, calling it.

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youtu.be/qV0I-iA5lJU watching this just put a pit in my stomach

>tanaka suguru
nice thx

Reminds me of that Heavy Metal animated movie

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if i was homeless, would sleep next too.

What is the artists name that inspired the alien movies?

Do? Do they not have arms?

looks liek shrooms

Might be star spawn
He is supposed to be asleep underwater... but there is nothing saying this pic is supposed to be taken as now.

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Was a bit tl;dr so I skipped bits. When I got to this I just kek'd:
>When I jumped out the window a mummy got me by the leg and bit me.

Got me a bit. Others ain't spooky.

Old broadcasts always have some creepiness to them

Reminds me of this.

WHo made these?

HR Geiger

Im pulling at straws here guys im runnin out

this is my phobia

Read thread. We already answered that.

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kek'd my pantaloons

This is Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth.
Not sure why it's in a spooky thread.

Sorry was saving stuff too fast don't want it to die before I can, or read all of the story stuff for that matter.

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We had just moved into a little ranch house in the suburbs. Storybook neighborhood – quiet, friendly neighbors, picket fences, the whole nine yards. Suffice it to say that this was supposed to be a new start for me, a recently single dad, and my three-year-old son. A time to move on from the previous year’s drama and stress.

I viewed the thunderstorm as a metaphor for this fresh start: one last show of theatrics before the dirt and grime of the past would be washed away. My son loved it anyway, even with the power out. It was the first big storm he’d ever seen. Flashes of lightning flooded the bare rooms of our house, imparting unpacked boxes with long creeping shadows, and he jumped and squealed as the thunder boomed. It was well past his bedtime before he’d finally settled down enough to go to sleep.

It's Giger actually. He didn't just inspire it but did a lot of design for the film.

The next morning I found him awake in bed and smiling. “I watched the lightning at my window!” he proudly announced.

A few mornings later, he told me the same thing. “You’re silly,” I said. “It didn’t storm last night, you were only dreaming!” “Oh…” He seemed somewhat disheartened. I ruffled his hair and told him not to worry, there should be another storm soon.

Then it became a pattern. He would tell me how he watched the lightning outside his window at least twice a week, despite there being no storms. Recurring dreams of that first memorable thunderstorm, I figured.

It’s easy to hate myself in hindsight. Everybody assures me there’s nothing I could have done, no way I could have known. But I’m supposed to be the guardian of my child, and these are useless words of comfort. I constantly relive that morning: making my coffee, pouring milk over my cereal, and picking up the newspaper to read about the pedophile local authorities had just arrested. It was front-page stuff. Apparently this guy would select a young target (usually a boy), stake out their house for a while, and take flash photos of them through their window while they slept. Sometimes he did more. My stomach sank as the connection was made.

At the time, it was merely something from a child’s imagination. In retrospect, it is the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. About a week before the predator was caught, my son came up to me in his pajamas. “Guess what?” he asked.

“What?”

“No more lightning at my window!”

I played along. “Oh, that’s nice, it finally died down huh?”

“No! Now it’s in my closet!”

I’ve yet to see the photos police have collected.

Its cool man. Feel free to make a part 2 for the spook thread. Im OP and im sleep deprived.. So im gonna sleep after this thread.

I'll make more spook threads more often though. My name is Green.

You have a fear of lights?

Sup mango tits?

got me a little

What movie is this from?

Mango tits??

Lights on dark water. Illuminating what is hidden.

The John Kenn drawings have been popular recently. Anyone got more? Preferably without edited text.

deep water, or things in deep water.

That's the queen Mary I have an almost identical picture I took when I was in like 8th grade. Bummer they closed this area off a couple of years ago

No he has what's called megalohydrothalassophobia
Otherwise known as being a faggot

As a kid when i was about 13, i went to the store and saw something like pic related, except he had no hair, and just big holes where his eyes should be, he had really smooth skin and was probably a burn victim. that shit fucked me up for days even though i saw him for like 5 seconds. i was so fucking shook and still am when i think of that face, ugh.

Yeah, you got them mango tits my love.

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Yeah, never thought about that but once I looked at the pic that way it sent chills up my ass.

the left picture, not the one where he looks better to be clear

Japanese Pot Roast?

?????

+1000 rads per second

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source

actual ghost, v spuki

Not completely sure, but I think its from "Lights out" movie

oh shit, she gonna need soo many stitches

Noooooo you cheated :(
Not that bad though, could have used a better gore pic if you were gonna cheat

I mean we have rekt threads daily
(Which is also why i didnt want gore bc we have a lot as is)

'Let the right one in'

Smoothskin detected

There's a space man sticking out of his hip

real ghost

'toot, hehe'

That made the picture user ily

Someone edit that onto the picture with small text

Hello Green, dune. I would I don't know how much longer I will be up either. We seem to be in the same boat for sleep.

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>2018

This isn't even spooky yet

Thread officially done. NIggers are starting to come in.

mentos man. they will get you.

I do not you should look up edward gorey tho.

genuine scary ghost :s

There's this search engine thing, can't remember the name but supposedly it searches the internet for given key words. I wonder if entering "john kenn" would aid you?
Guess we'll never know. I think it was goggles or gulak dot net or something

Not sure, was told that it is bread in another thread tho. made me think of sweet breads.

woo

I think I've been up for maybe.. 20 hours? Im about to crash im making so many typos its ridiculous

actual proper real genuine scary ghost

Gotta say: this thread is better than the whole /x/ board.

spoocy

I'm the same. I get one 36/4-6 cycles for some reason to no avail.

dune

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*on*

Oh shit you won't believe this, I found the search engine. I gave it the key words "john kenn" and the gallery appeared as the very first result! And here's the crazy part, it was DON Kenn, not John, and this "google" still found it!
Shit is like magic holy shit
regards,

Wow, didn't expect to trigger anyone.

Fuck yeah. A proud OP right here.
I miss spook threads on Cred Forums so im trying to slowly bring em back

It acually is John Kenn.

ikr

Yeah been one fucking day, everything pisses me off. I'm sorry. :(

One day since what?

Bootin' with giger

One shitshow of a day that is

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Probably he means he has had a bad day, bro

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>You all just got spooked

Oh, okay. I'm sorry about that, user.

Yeah, awesome thread. Bumping!

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It's probably not up to hardcore spookers' standards but did anyone find this terrifying in context?
>20 years

I believe this is bekzinski... correct me if I'm wrong.

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at least hell has some mass transit

Yyyyyyup

a lot of ppl who take this kind of thing seriously say this is the most convincing and otherwise inexplicable picture of a "ghost" ever taken
>bar in Austria
>guy sets the camera on timer to take a group pic, sits back down
>camera takes pic but he forgot to switch on the flash (top pic)
>sets camera again with flash (bottom pic)
the pics were next to each other on the negative roll so it cant be an intentional double exposure, and the extra woman is blurry, about 15% too big and would be in the middle of the table

found this on /x/
open the image in notepad and scroll down

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If not shopped this is an amazing shot

The spookest part of my childhood

OH shit. Really? Has it been that long?