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By reddit user conffra
I used to live in a small building downtown. One of the reasons I moved out was the bad neighborhood, including this guy in the apartment right over mine. It was a weird looking fella who mostly kept to himself. Around midnight though, there was frequently a strange noise that got on my nerves. It wasnât loud, to be fair, but I have really light sleep so it was hard to get my eyes shut with those little bumping sounds going on and on. It reminded me of  high heels walking about, but not as loud, as if the person causing the noise was actually trying to be silent. After a few days, i realized the pattern was always the same, like a recording played over and over with random intervals in between. And that went on for the best part of an year, always the same sequence of bumps, slowly tattooed into my mind, sometimes for hours straight during the night.
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The estimated reading time for this story is greater than or equal to 18 minutes. This story is credited to Tam Lim.Â
âThose who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.â Â Â Â -Edgar Allen Poe, âEleanoraâ
âGo to bed and wait for the Sandman.â
Even as it came out of Jamesâ mouth it seemed to him a strange thing to say, and he was not sure why he had, but for some reason it worked: Daniel went to bed.
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As a tool to encourage good behavior in children, Santa serves as the carrot, and Krampus is the stick. Krampus is the evil demon anti-Santa, or maybe his evil twin. Krampus Night is celebrated on December 5, the eve of St. Nicholas Day in Austria and other parts of Europe. Public celebrations that night have many Krampuses walking the streets, looking for people to beat. Krampus may look like a devil, or like a wild alpine beast.
JĂłlakĂśtturinn is the Icelandic Yule Cat or Christmas Cat. He is not a nice cat. In fact, he might eat you. This character is tied to an Icelandic tradition in which those who finished all their work on time received new clothes for Christmas, while those who were lazy did not (although this is mainly a threat). To encourage children to work hard, parents told the tale of the Yule Cat, saying that JĂłlakĂśtturinn could tell who the lazy children were because they did not have at least one new item of clothing for Christmasâand these children would be sacrificed to the Yule Cat.
Tales told in Germany and Austria sometimes feature a witch named Frau Perchta who hands out both rewards and punishments during the 12 days of Christmas (December 25 through Epiphany on January 6). She is best known for her gruesome punishment of the sinful: She will rip out your internal organs and replace them with garbage. The ugly image of Perchta may show up Christmas processions in Austria, somewhat like Krampus.
Hans Trapp is another âanti-Santaâ who hands out punishment to bad children in the Alsace and Lorraine regions of France. The legend says that Trapp was a real man, a rich, greedy, and evil man, who worshiped Satan and was excommunicated from the Catholic Church. He was exiled into the forest where he preyed upon children, disguised as a scarecrow with straw jutting out from his clothing. He was about to eat one boy he captured when he was struck by lightning and killedâa punishment of his own from God. Still, he visits young children before Christmas, dressed as a scarecrow, to scare them into good behavior.
The JĂłlasveinar, or Yule Lads, are 13 Icelandic trolls, who each have a name and distinct personality. In ancient times, they stole things and caused trouble around Christmastime, so they were used to scare children into behaving, like the Yule Cat. However, the 20th century brought tales of the benevolent Norwegian figure Julenisse (Santa Claus), who brought gifts to good children. The traditions became mingled, until the formerly devilish JĂłlasveinar became kind enough to leave gifts in shoes that children leave out ⌠if they are good boys and girls.Â
All the Yule Lads answer to GrĂ˝la, their mother. She predates the Yule Lads in Icelandic legend as the ogress who kidnaps, cooks, and eats children who donât obey their parents. She only became associated with Christmas in the 17th century, when she was assigned to be the mother of the Yule Lads. According to legend, GrĂ˝la had three different husbands and 72 children, all who caused trouble ranging from harmless mischief to murder.
(Source)
CREEPY THINGS TO WATCH
A compilation of all the horror filled movies, t.v shows & documentaries I could find. It includes some of my own masterposts and other peopleâs masterposts.Â
Scary Movie Masterpost
Childhood Halloween Masterpost
Psychological Thriller Movie Masterpost
Not So Scary Movie Masterpost
Link to Horror Movies You Shouldnât Miss
Another Horror Movie Masterpost
Foreign Horror Films Masterpost
Creepy Short Film Masterpost
American Horror Story Masterpost
The Walking Dead Masterpost
Supernatural Masterpost
Scooby-Doo Masterpost
Top 10 Disturbing Documentaries
A Haunting Episode List
X-Files Episode List
Ghost Hunters Episode List
Ghost Adventures Episode List
The Twilight Zone Episode List
Unsolved Mysteries Series
Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series
Ghost Whisperer Series
Psychic Kids Series
Is It Real Series
Sightings Series
Strange But True Series
COSTUME/CREEPY MAKE-UP TUTORIALS
A compilation of amazing people with a talent for art and expression. Some of these are gorey, so be cautious.Â
Cracked Doll
Infected
Severed Fingers
Dissected Arm
Maggot Eyes
Corpse Bride
Nightmare Before Christmas
Coraline
Dead Bride
Creepy Dummy Doll
Annabelle Doll
The Exorcist
The Ring
Silent Hill Nurse
Chucky: Childâs Play
Candy Demon
Unwanted House Guest
Monster Girl
Blood Nail Art
Scary Fairy Nails
Cute & Easy Halloween Nails
CREEPY STORY NARRARATIONS
Whatâs better than reading scary stories? Listening to them from people who have a voice that perfectly match the suspense needed for such stories.
MrCreepyPasta
DeadJosey
WellHeyProductions
CreepsMcPasta
Cry Reads
TheLittleFears
ChillingTalesForDarkNights
TheCreepyPastaRaven
Otis Jiry
TheCreepyBookworm
MissShadowLovely
Madame Macabre
Litter Bot
TalesofTim
KittenReadsHorror
Baranabas
CreepyPastaJr
TheCreepyDark
CreepyRainbowPasta
NIGHTMARE FUEL
Creepy compilations from around the web and from posts Iâve made before.Â
Top Rated Scary Stories
Cracked on Horror
Listverse Bizarre and Creepy
Creepiest Gifs
Reddit No Sleep
Reddit Paranormal
Reddit Horror
Creepy Contacts
Top 10 Sixpenceee Stories
Top 10 Reddit Lets Not Meet Stories
Top 10 Creepy Short Films
Compilation of Short Creepy Stories
Unsettling Things on the Internet
Top 10 Terrifying YouTube Videos
Top 10 Creepy Audio Recordings
Creepy Dares List
Creepy Facts Compilation
Top 5 Disturbing Topics
Top 5 Fake Documentaries
6 Terrifying Comics
Common Nightmares & Their Meanings
Creepy Japanese Urban Legends
Creepy Lost Episodes Compilation
Compilation of Horror Pranks
Top 5 Mass Extinctions
Glitch in the Matrix
Top 10 Found Footage & Creepy Videos
Top 10 Long Scary Stories
Ways to Contact the Dead
Creepy Meaning Behind Nursery Rhymes
Creepiest Glitch Experiences
Paranormal Science Resources
Map of Monsters/Ghosts/Cryptids in the USA
Everything on Astral Projection
Everything on Terrifying Dolls
HORROR MASTERPOSTS
The first couple are masterposts Iâve made, the rest are masterposts Iâve gathered from other blogs.Â
Masterpost of Worldâs Scariest Places
Masterpost of True Terrifying Events
Masterpost of Creepy Stories
Masterpost of Gothic Novels
Masterpost of Creepy Websites
Masterpost of Creepy Online Games
Masterpost of Creepy Sleep-Over Games
Masterpost of Scary Music
Masterpost of Free Indie Horror Games
Another Halloween Masterpost
Halloween Pixel/Background Masterpost
Another Halloween Pixel/Banners/Cursor Masterpost
Chilling Tales For Dark Nights Masterpost
Paranormal Podcast Masterpost
Scary App Masterpost
Paranormal Creatures Masterpost
Superstitions Masterpost
Creepy Wikipedia Articles Masterpost
Masterpost of Creepy Stuff
Myths & Urban Legends Masterpost
The Bloodworth Saga Masterpost
Scary October Masterpost
âHave you ever heard of The Sallow Man?â, Thatâs what Timmy Morrison asked me in seventh grade. Timmy was my best friend. We did nearly everything together. It was Friday, and we were sitting in lunch period discussing what we were going to do when he came over to stay the night after school. âNo, what the hell is that?â I asked him, rolling my eyes because I figured this was going to be another one of Timmyâs storyâs that his sister told him. Timmyâs face put on that heâd always put on when he was talking about something that someone hadnât heard of before. âMy sister told me about him, she said he comes to you if you say some words in front of a mirror, I donât remember it all but I wrote down what she told me. I figured we could try it out at your house.â I rolled my eyes to make it seem like I thought it was childish, but in truth I was interested. Creepy stuff like that always interested me, even though I knew it wasnât real, I just liked hearing the stories. I didnât want Timmy to know that I wanted to hear about it though, because then heâd just have something to be smug about. âIs this just more of that âBloody Maryâ crap where she just comes out of the mirror to kill you?â I asked him, pretending to pay attention more to my mashed potatoes than the conversation. âNO! The Sallow Man comes out of the mirror after you recite his poem, then he kills anyone you ask him to, thatâs what my sister said anyway.â, Timmy said as he turned to eat at his own tray. âThere was a poem involved?â I thought. Now, I really did have to know more. âWhat do you mean, what poem?â I asked him. Timmy lazily reached into one of his many folders that he carried around for school and pulled out a piece of paper that was a bit crinkled. He slid it over to me on the cafeteria table, and I examined it without picking it up. This is what it read. In dark halls within the after, From those halls you hear my laughter. Dark thoughts entreat your mind, To for now break down my bind. I will take what ails you in this land, And I will leave no trace, for I am Sallow Man. I nearly laughed as I read the last lines. I was up for anything spooky sure, but this was really corny. âTimmy, you donât really believe this crap do you? Your sister was probably just messing with you.â Timmy didnât say anything at first, he just concentrated on his tray for a moment, then he said, âBrandon, do you remember last year when my parents were fighting a lot? My Dad was drinking all the time and I stayed over at your house nearly every night for a while?â Of course I remembered that, Timmy WAS over at my house every night. My parents allowed it because they knew what was going on. It was a small town, everyone did. âYeah Tim, I remember.â I said, the mood now solemn. âMy Dad hit my Mom a lot, and whenever me or my sister was home he would call me a bastard and he would call my sister a whore. It was a nightmare.â I could sense Timmyâs gaze turn towards me so I looked up from my tray as well. He stared at me for a moment, waiting for me to say something, so I did. âI thought your Dad stopped drinking though, and everything was okay?â I asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Timmy responded then, with anger starting to edge into his voice. âYeah, he stopped drinking, but nothing got better. Sure he stopped hitting Mom, but she barely speaks to him or anyone else in the house anymore. I know itâs because of him, I know sheâs still afraid of him.â I was a bit shocked, Timmy had never mentioned anything about that before. I just figured once Timmy started staying at his house again everything was fine. âSo what, are you going to sic the Sallow Man on your Dad? Timmy thatâs nuts. Itâs just some story that your sister probably heard from one of the other seniors.â I told him. âBut what if thereâs a chance it would work? I need to try Brandon, but I want you to be with me.â Timmy looked dead serious. âI donât know Tim; it just seems sillyâ I told him. âPlease Brandon, I need you there, please.â Timmy gave me a look of pure desperation, and I felt sorry for him. I decided that Iâd be there to support him. He lived in a broken home, and he was grasping at straws. I knew it couldnât be good for him, but he was my best friend, what choice did I have? âOkay Tim, I got your back. Letâs summon a ghost.â The next thing I knew, it was after school, and Timmy and I had locked ourselves in my small downstairs bathroom at home. âDo the lights need to be off or anything?â I asked. âNo, at least I donât think so. I think all I have to do is recite the poem in front of the mirror, and then he appears.â Timmy pulled out the piece of paper with the poem on it that he had in his back pocket, then cleared his throat. I stood back and leaned against the wall with my arms crossed. Usually when people did this sort of thing it was in the dark, maybe with a lit candle or two. But the lights were on, and the floral wall paper that was all around my bathroom didnât exactly inspire fear, so I felt pretty stupid in that bathroom with Timmy. I was just thankful Mom and Dad were still at work so they didnât catch us and wonder what was wrong with their son. Timmy finally began to speak after what seemed like minutes. âIn dark halls within the after, From those halls you hear my laughter. Dark thoughts entreat your mind, To for now break down my bind. I will take what ails you in this land, And I will leave no trace, for I am Sallow Man.â Timmy spoke loudly and clearly. When he finished, he held his breath, waiting for something to happen. At that point I was absolutely convinced Timmy was wasting his time, I sighed and closed my eyes waiting for him to realize the same thing. I heard him gasp, which I took to be a sound of defeat. I opened my eyes and was about to console Timmy, but then I saw the real reason he had made a sound. When I opened up my eyes, I saw the mirror no longer showed our reflections, but a long dark hallway. The hallwayâs floor, walls, and even its ceiling seemed to be moving, Undulating back and forth like the insides of some giant worm. The hallway was poorly lit by some unseen source, and at the very end of it I could see the shape of what looked like a man moving toward the mirror. For a moment, I was stuck in disbelief. I couldnât move, I could only watch as the figure in the mirror came closer and slowly, its features became clearer and clearer. It was a man, or what seemed to be a man, bald and completely naked. His skin was a pale, sickly yellow. He was skinny, so emaciated that his jaundiced skin was taut against his skeleton, and every one of his ribs were visible. With thin and lanky legs, he walked ever closer to the mirror with a shambling gait. His long, ghoulish arms dragged his knuckles along the hall as he walked, parting the undulating floor for fleeting moment before the floor came back together. When I noticed this I squinted my eyes to try and sharpen my vision in an attempt to see what it was that was making the floor and walls quiver like they were. The cause of the moving floor became clear as they started to move from within the mirror, and out into the bathroom. Cockroaches. The insects began to spill out of the mirror and onto the sink and floor below. That was enough for me, Timmy and I had to get out of that bathroom. I reached out for Timmyâs arm and tried to pull him away, but he would not budge. He stood transfixed, his eyes glued to the mirror and the nightmare that was approaching. I tried a few more times to pull him away, shouting at him to snap out of it, but he wouldnât move. It was if something unnatural was holding him in place, and wouldnât let him go. I gave up, and I turned tail, hauling ass for the door. As soon as I reached the door handle, thousands of cockroaches moving impossibly fast covered the handle and immediately after the door, leaving the door obscured completely by writhing and hissing insects. I yelled, cursing and screaming as I turned around to go for the window on the other side of the bathroom. I was silenced when I was met with the sight of a room, no longer recognizable as my bathroom, but was now more reminiscent of that hallway in the mirror. The walls and ceiling was covered in insects. When I looked down, I saw that the roaches covered the floor below, making only two small spaces where my feet stood. I dared not move then, I didnât know what would happen if I were to step on one of those bugs. I had the awful thought that if I were to move at all, the insects would strip my bones completely of flesh. I lifted my head slowly to the now dimly lit room, flashes of light would strobe here and there as the roaches crawled along the light shade on the ceiling. I could now that two yellow and gnarled hands had appeared on either side of the mirror, and I knew the Sallow Man had come. Timmy stood there, his eyes still wide, his stature still unmoved. I distinctly remember a smell then, a sickly smell that called to mind dirty bed pans, and I had to cover my mouth and nose not to gag. Still, this didnât seem to bother Timmy what-so-ever. When the awful smell came, so did then did the Sallow Manâs head emerge from the mirror. His bald head was faced downward, and his neck stretched far into the room until his head was inches in front of Timmyâs face. A voice came then, a hissing voice that seemed to come from the insects, and echo all around the room. âWho is the one to be taken to the after?â The voice said. Timmy moved then, for the first time since he recited the poem, by smiling a wide and unnerving grin. âMy Father!â Timmy said, loud and clear, as if delivering the death sentence himself. In retrospect, I suppose he was. There was a murmuring sound then, as all of the insects began to vibrate loudly. Then after a moment, the insects parted and swarmed around the wall to the left of the mirror, and a man; who I recognized to be Timmyâs father, rose from within the wall of swarming bugs. His face was pale and his eyes were wide with fear. The insects were swarming him, presumably pinning him to the wall. Iâm sure he would be screaming if the cockroaches werenât covering his mouth. âThis is the one to be brought into the after?â That awful hissing echo came again, entreating an answer from Timmy, and without breaking his grin Timmy said. âYes!â As if heeding the call of Timmyâs word, the insects then began swarming into Timmyâs fatherâs mouth. His eyes showed his desperate fear as thousands of cockroaches began eating him from the inside out. I would say it was gruesome, but the insects were quick with their work. They devoured every bit of Timmyâs father within seconds, leaving nothing left. Had my eyes not been glued to what was happening I might have blinked, and I would have missed it. I looked back to Timmy, who had a satisfied and almost, relieved looks on his face. But his look soon became one of terror as the Sallow Man spoke once more. âNow, you will join me in the after, boy. Such is the price to be paid.â Timmy didnât move at all, save for the horrified shock that crawled over his face. I donât know if it was terror that kept him in place, or if it was the Sallow Man. But Jesus Christ, I wish I didnât see what happened next. The Sallow Man lifted his head slowly, revealing a face that had no features. No eyes, no nose, and no discernable marks what so ever as far as I could tell. The only thing there was a mouth. The Sallow Mans lips, like the rest of him, were stretched tight, making his human-like and yellow teeth seem bigger than they were. Stunned into helplessness by my own fear, I could do nothing but watch as the Sallow Manâs jaw unhinged and stretched to an impossible size. He then reached for Timmy and grabbed him, picking him up just as easy as if he weighed nothing at all. The Sallow Man then shoved Timmy into his mouth whole. Just like that, gone. Impossibly, my best friend was thrown into that awful ghoulâs throat. I didnât even hear Timmy scream as the thing swallowed him. Tears were falling from my eyes freely as the Sallow Man closed his maw and turned his attention toward me as the insects began to retreat into the mirror behind him. Just before the Sallow Man disappeared behind the mirror, he smiled at me. I could feel his eyes, eyes that he did not have, burn into me. A buzzing sound filled my ears then, and I began to faint. Just before I hit the ground, I saw the Sallow Man duck his head back into the mirror and disappear. My Mother arrived home from work at around four oâ clock, and she found me on the bathroom floor passed out with the door closed. When Mom woke me up, my head was hazy, and it took me a moment to recall what had happened, and it was hard to think with Mom asking over and over if I was okay. But when I remembered I became frantic, telling her something had happened to Timmy, and he disappeared, but I left out the part about the Sallow Man. My Mother looked at me like I was crazy. âWhoâs Timmy, dear?â She asked with a raised eyebrow. âMom you know Timmy, heâs my best friend!â I yelled. âOh you made a new friend, what do you mean he disappeared?â I started to tell her that Timmy had been my best friend all my life, I was going to tell her that he had stayed over almost all of last year. But a sinking feeling in my stomach stopped me, and I pushed passed my Mother to the house phone. I was going to make a call to confirm my suspicion, but I hoped on hope I was wrong. I dialed Timmyâs number, and his Mother answered. âHello?â I took in a deep breath and asked. âHello, is Timmy there?â I asked. âI donât know any Timmy, maybe you have the wrong number sweetie?â Timmyâs Mother sounded much happier than I ever had heard her before, it wasnât enough to stop the tears from forming in my eyes, but it did prompt the next question I asked. âAre you married?â I asked, knowing how silly it sounded, but I had to know. âNo, but I donât see how thatâs any of your business, does your Mother know youâre using the phone?â I didnât reply, I just hung up. I turned and went up into my room, I dodged all my Momâs questions and I went straight to bed. As I lie there, I thought hard about everything that had happened. I wondered if Timmy would want things this way. It was clear from the look of terror on his face, that he had no idea he would have to pay such a heavy cost. I wondered if his Timmyâs sister knew about that part of the deal, if she left it out on purpose, or if she just didnât think it mattered, because after all it was just a stupid poem. But the biggest question that I kept asking myself, was Timmy still alive? I saw that thing swallow him whole, but was it possible in whatever world he was in, that he was still there with the Sallow Man? I hoped not, but hopes or not, I got my answer when Monday morning came. In class, all I could do was stare at Timmyâs empty seat, and it was making me sick thinking about it. I asked my teacher if I could use the restroom, and was excused. I went straight to the sink once I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the tap. I turned the hot water on all the way, and began to splash water into my face. When I was done, dried myself with paper towel, and my eyes met the now fogged-up bathroom mirror. There, in the condensation, were three words. âHELP ME BRANDONâ