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Rumours, rumoured rituals…

A handful of creepy hints a friend of mine found; all have potential.

There are stories about a certain kind of hitchhiker – they only ever appear at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in the very edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always with an expression of deep despondency on their faces, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants, usually with gloves. If you stop, they will seem cordial enough, polite, but hardly chatty. They will assure you that the next town or city along your route will be a fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you try killing them.

They die easily enough. But look underneath their clothes, and you will see that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming repeating patterns that are unsettling to look at, and even more unsettling in the context of their skin. They have no wallets, no identification. If you slice their belly open, however, they’re different inside. There’s no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing a single object. The object varies. Examples include a single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes nobody could ever decipher. A diamond gem with fractal edges that slice bare flesh to ribbons. A small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of the ocean and is always damp…

Once you possess a hitchhiker’s object, you’ll find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You’ll never mean to, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing a second one will hum quietly in your head. You’ll strain to catch sight of a figure appearing in your headlights, try to resist the impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you won’t. You’ll try telling yourself that this is just a normal person on an adventure, someone who ran out of petrol. The logical part of your brain will scream at what you’re doing. You’ll smile and nod and they’ll get into the car and you’ll slowly, casually, reach under the seat or across to the glove box…

There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, that is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase.

The case is filled with unmarked books, bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood.

However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out.
The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape is to douse the light.

Rumor has it that every Halloween during the hours of 2:00 am and 5:00am, there exists a void. You must stand in front of a mirror in a pitch black room with your gaze fixated on the mirror. If you remain in the room when the moment arrives, you will feel a chill seize your body. Place your right hand on the mirror and whisper “I accept.” If done correctly, in the mirror, there will be a faint image of an infant with no flesh and pitch black eyes. He will stare directly into your soul and you will hear the buzzing of flies and nervous whispering.

You will not be able to make out the image in the mirror, but you will be filled with unspeakable terror. The infant will ask you five questions about events that have occured within your life. His voice will sound like the rubbing of sandpaper and will be devoid of all human emotion. For each question that you answer incorrectly, one of your five senses will be consumed and lost to you forever. For each question that is answered correctly, you will be able to recite the name of someone you know.

That person will be found dead the next morning with their flesh removed and their eyes missing.

In almost every building, there is one corner, one small enclosure that no one ever looks at. It’s the corner in the basement that has been blocked by a disused sofa for years; the thin space in the attic between the wall and the stacks and stacks of crates full of junk you never use, but could never throw away. The space that never sees the light of day, or any other kind of light at all. Where darkness does not merely dominate, but practically oozes out from around the edges of its prison.

No one knows quite how long a space must remain concealed for it to acquire this particular property, nor if there are any specific conditions it must meet. But it is a far more common occurrence than you might think.

In newer buildings, when this happens, the residents often report feeling cold when passing by, even in attics during the hottest of summers. Whenever contemplating taking a quick peek to see if there is anything actually there, an unnatural dread seizes them, and they leave the room quickly, if not quite running. Once left behind, the feeling passes, and it is quickly forgotten, or laughed off.

What actually happens in these forgotten sanctuaries of the dark? It is impossible to tell. For while many such corners have been exposed to reveal absolutely nothing, some brave souls have lost their sanity through nothing more than an ill-timed glance. The safest thing to do when encountered with such a phenomenon; close your eyes, rip away the area’s covering in a single motion, then keep a tight hold on what you’ve pulled away. No matter what you hear or feel, do not get up, do not look around, and do not try to cover your ears. You might be one of the lucky ones.

The next time you’re alone in your room, turn down the lights. Think of something on your body that varies in length, such as hair. It must be clearly viewable from your perspective. Grab a ruler and, looking in the mirror, quickly grab a hair at random; you must confuse it. Hold it in position as best you can and note the length. Look down. Yours will be different.
Don’t look back up.
Don’t turn your back to that mirror ever again.

A recent study by the National Psychiatric Institute in Boston, MA, concluded that no activity can account for the phenomenon known as nightmares. Whereas many dreams come from unconscious desires, most nightmares seem to come from an outside source independent of the individual. In fact, when subjects are asked to recall nightmares they are almost always found in the same memory section as actual physical memories, not the section where normal dreams are replayed. In other words, those aliens and creatures you see at night in your “dreams?” They’re real.

If you stand alone at the corner of Church St. and Market St. in Charleston, South Carolina at 3 AM, you see a man coming down Church St. wearing a black hat and black cape with stringy white hair and weathered skin. He’ll stop at one of the two corners directly across from where you are standing and start to walk the corner directly opposite from where he is standing. When he reaches about halfway (dead center of the intersection) and nobody else has arrived, he’ll stop, turn, and look directly at you.
If you do not blink for roughly 20-30 seconds he’ll tip his hat to you and walk along his way, disappearing into the dark shadows of the trees that line the streets. Nobody knows what happens if you follow him.

If you do blink before he tips his hat, the very first thing you will see is the man standing directly in front of you. He’ll grin maliciously at you and draw a blade hidden in the shaft of the cane and slash you across your throat, but you will not feel a thing. You will, however, pass out and remain in a comatose state until the sun rises over the horizon.

For the next six nights, you will have a recurring dream of the man walking down the street, appearing suddenly before you, and slashing your throat. On the seventh night, the events will replay the same up until he stops in the middle of the intersection. At this point, he’ll say, “It’s been fun playing with you, boy, but now it’s time for you to go. Don’t ever let me see you again.” He’ll then tip his hat and walk away before you wake up.
Nobody knows what happens if you visit the corner a second time.

Open your closet, don’t turn on the light. Make sure you have one match with you. Step inside and close the door. If the lights are on outside of the closet this will not work. Nor will it work if it is daylight. The only room you need is enough for slight mobility.
Stand in the darkness for about two minutes, since that’s all that’s needed. Now, take the match and hold it in front of you and say, “Show me the light or leave me in darkness.” If you begin hearing whispers light the match immediately. If you don’t hear anything, and the match doesn’t ignite on it’s own then don’t turn around. If you light the match too late or not at all after hearing whispers, something will grab you from behind and pull you into what seems like a forever fall into darkness.
If you do manage to light the match in time and nothing happens after, open the door slowly and get out, then close the door but do NOT look inside. From then on, never look inside your closet without the light on at all. Some say if you leave your closet open during the night you can see the demon watching you with two red eyes that glow like matches.

If you ever are in an area of absolute quiet, still your breathing and move not a muscle. After a few seconds, you will notice that the silence has a sort of “sound” of its own, a kind of empty ringing tone. This is nothing unique, everyone will hear this, given the proper setting. An informed person will tell you that your brain is trying to interpret the lack of stimuli to your hearing and so creates a bit of a filler sound. This ringing sound actually serves a more arcane purpose, covering up a noise we are not meant to hear. This noise is not impossible to hear, and if you are persistent you can effectively “break” the cover-up sound. The next time you are silent and hear the ringing, shout at the top of your lungs for about half a minute, then be abruptly silent. It will be different for everyone.

Some will hear nothing different for dozens of tries. Others might pick up soft murmuring. A special few auditory heroes might clearly make it out on the first attempt. What you will hear is a voice that relays an account of events about to happen in the immediate future. It’s like a sportscaster relaying the events occurring 10 seconds into the future. As time goes on, you will be able to make out this voice under increasingly noisy circumstances, to the point that it can be heard at any time by just concentrating. Such an ability would doubtlessly be invaluable, no? You will be able react to any immediate danger, relate to people around you with greater ease. No one would ever surprise you.

Now, of course you are wondering what sort of horrible catch this ability entails. Perhaps the tone of the voice is so horrible that it will drive you mad, or maybe the voice will only predict your death over and over again. Of course this isn’t the case, though, its a normal voice, your ears receive it no matter what, it’s simply a matter of noticing. But there is a danger. For you see, where there is a voice, there is a body. And just like you will notice new sounds, so shall you notice new sights. More importantly, you will be noticed.

4 thoughts on “Rumours, rumoured rituals…

  1. W T Snacks says:

    I see you lurking there, /x/phile. Stop stealing things from Ebaums’ creepypasta threads.

    Reply
  2. vagina = fun! says:

    that was a fun read.

    Reply
  3. Sage of Darkness says:

    *shrugs* The abovementioned friend never said where she found these things, so…just thought I’d share.

    Reply
  4. CriticalFault says:

    Some really deep excellent stuff. Whomever wrote it should be proud.

    Reply

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