Monday, October 31, 2011

Memory Card

A few weeks ago, my parents were driving up to see my cousins. We always visit them during the summer. On the way there, we drove through a little village. Some church by the road was having a car boot sale. A massive banner told us it was in aid of charity.

My dad parked the car and got out, eager to have a little sniff around. He always had a thing for raking through people's old stuff and finding hidden treasures. While he was off treasure hunting, I decided to go off on my own little wander.

Most of the stuff on sale was the usual crap: cakes, ugly crockery, junk, etc. Someone was holding a raffle. An old woman was painting kids' faces, but only seemed to know how to do one animal; there were zebra-faced kids everywhere.

I remember a couple standing out over all the happiness and sense of community. There was just a man and a woman with dead eyes taking no interest in their customers at all. All they did was just stare into the distance.

Their table was full of kids junk. You know - toys, magazines, crap Playstation games, the usual. There were a lot of those Army Men games. A few sports games, as well. I reckon I missed all the good stuff.

I was losing interest when I spotted an old Playstation memory card out of the corner of my eye. Written on the front in chipped Tipp-Ex was the name SAM. Now this was a real hidden treasure. I bought it from the couple and tucked it into my wallet. Neither said a word or looked at me when they took my money.

After that, I found my parents once more. Eventually, we got back in the car and were once again on our way to my cousins' house. We stayed there for a few days. I enjoy hanging out with my cousins, so I was quick to forget about my purchase. In addition, neither had a Playstation, so it didn't matter anyway.

When I got back home, I retrieved my old Playstation from the attic and set it up. I had kept quite a few games, too. I had all the classics: Resident Evil, Final Fantasy, Tomb Raider, Metal Gear Solid, Future Cop, etc.

However, before I played any of them, I turned on the console without a disc in. I remembered you could do this to check out the contents of your memory card. I stuck Sam's into the slot and selected it.

There were a few save files on it. Some of them were corrupt - just strange symbols hanging there that displayed a strange series of characters instead of details. Others were games I had never heard of.

However, there was one I recognized: Metal Gear Solid. It was the VR Missions disc, to be precise. It said it had been completed 100%. I had both Metal Gear Solid and the VR Missions, so I decided to check it out.

I could remember quite a bit about the VR Missions disc, but the parts that stuck out for me the most were the giant soldiers, the murder mysteries, and the photo shoot mode. I remembered they were actually a lot of fun. I booted the game up.

When I loaded the save, something odd happened: the title music stopped. This sounded especially weird because I had turned up the volume on my TV so I could get right into the game, but there I was, suddenly plunged into silence.

On top of that, there were no sound effects as I scrolled through the menu options. It was a little eerie, but I chalked it up to the game or the console being old and worn out.

I remembered you could wait for Naomi's legs to uncross to take a photo in photo shoot mode and there was nothing there except a black space where a pussy should have been. It was a little empty void left by the creators to disappoint a million pubescent kids. Amused, I loaded up photo shoot mode and selected Naomi as my model.

When the level loaded, I remember thinking the music sounded a little strange. It was nothing eerie, just a little odd. Maybe it was slightly slowed down or something. AGain, I chalked it up to either the game or the console's old age.

I made Snake duck down and looked through the viewfinder, staring at Naomi's crotch and waiting for her to uncross her legs. I was determined to get that snap that had destroyed my perverted hopes and dreams all those years ago.

It took longer than I thought and the first time it happened, I missed it. Waiting again, I almost missed a second time. Luckily, my reflexes had been sharpened by generations of gaming.

Click. Gotcha! A perfect snap of the little black zone where her pussy should have been. I smiled to myself and shook my head. It was funny that I had gotten so excited over something all those years ago.

I was getting a little hungry, so I decided to take a break. I was just about to head downstairs for some food when I noticed something.

I could hear crying. There were little sniffles and short intakes of breath. At first, I had no idea where it was coming from. For a moment I noticed it was behind me. Then I realised it was coming from the game.

I remember getting confused, sitting there to listen to some voice coming from my TV speakers. I just couldn't work out why it was happening. It started getting louder and a little more hysterical. I figured it was coming from Naomi. I tilted the camera upwards, wondering what the fuck was going on. Just as I got to her face, a horrible wail tore from my speakers and scared the shit out of me.

Naomi was screaming at me. I just had time to register her twisted mouth and horrible eyes when I gasped and dropped the controller. It landed on the ground on a button and the game came out of viewfinder mode.

Snake was just kneeling there in front of her. I stood there, shaking, watching the characters seem to stare at one another. I could no longer see Naomi's face. I couldn't tell if she still had that horrible look across it. There was no one in my house. My parents were both still at work. I jumped forward and turned the console off.

A little while later, I was lying on my bed thinking about that horrible face when it dawned on me that the characters in the game don't actually have eyes, just a darker shade of pixels.

Their mouths never opened, either. They just nodded their heads whenever they talked. Naomi's mouth, however, had been twisted open and her eyes were almost photo realistic. What the fuck?

After a while, I convinced myself I had imagined the horrible details. You always do in situations like that. It was just some lame kid's save that he had someone fucked with and managed to scare the shit out of me with. I wondered what else he had managed to do to VR Missions.

Later that night, when I my parents were home, I finally got the nerve to turn the console back on. I selected photo shoot mode and chose Naomi as my model again.

When the level loaded, I knew right away that something was wrong. The stage was empty except for Snake. Naomi was nowhere to be seen. There was no music, either. It was just like the title screen. I ran around a little and the footsteps sounded louder than they should have been. They sounded real, too, like high-quality sound effects recorded in a great hall.

The whole thing was a little unnerving, but I kept telling myself that it was just some whiz kid's stupid experiment. Still, I couldn't shake the horrible sensation that something else was at play.

There was nothing on the stage except Snake. I decided to look through the camera's viewfinder again, to scan the level for, well, anything. Panning around, I realised that all those graphics that usually floated in the background were gone. All of that scrolling information wasn't there. The level was just floating in a black, silent abyss.

Still panning, I suddenly spotted something in the distance: a vague shape in the darkness. Before I could focus on what it was, it was gone. I had no idea what I had saw, but it reminded me of one of those ghosts from Metal Gear Solid you could see if you took photographs in the right places.

However, you could only see them when you left the game and examined the photos in the in-game photo album. They had been really creepy. I remember when I was a kid, I stopped looking for them because one had scared the shit out of me.

Still facing that horrible abyss, I took a photo roughly in the space I thought I saw something. I turned around and started talking photos all around me, a few being where Naomi was supposed to be standing. I left the game afterward. I was relieved to get out of that horrible place.

The menu still wasn't playing any music. There still were no sound effects when I scrolled through, either. I loaded up the photo album and began to shuffle through the pictures.

The first one was of the abyss that surrounded the level, or at least I think that's what it was. It was just a black image with no features. There were a few more like this, too. I remembered you could mess with the colors and contrast, so I played around with it, hoping I would see something. Nothing materialized.

Eventually, I gave up. I scrolled across to the next image - the first shot of where Naomi should have been standing. What I was faced with was something completely different.

It was a picture of a little boy, tied up against a bed. It wasn't an in-game photo, but a real one. It was a real boy on a real bed with real ropes. The picture was slightly pixellated, but nothing compared to the low-resolution of the game. Just at the edge of the picture, I could make out a leg. Someone was standing by the bedside.

Something told me to turn the game off. Something darker told me to scroll to the next photo. I listened to the latter. The next photo made my stomach jump. Gloved hands were holding the boy's eyes open. They were forcing him to look at something off-camera. The boy's expression ws of absolute terror. A part of me was glad I couldn't see what he saw.

I continued scrolling. They were torturing him now - cutting open his skin and mutilating him in ways I won't describe. The photos only became more and more disturbing, never letting up. Each one was worse than the last. They violated him and tortured his young body. I'd never seen anything like it. I never knew humans were capable of such acts.

My body was shaking and my hands could barely hold onto the controller, but I kept scrolling through the pictures. I was unable to stop myself.

I came to another image. I was relieved to see it was no longer of the boy. This relief, however, was short-lived. I squinted at the screen, wondering what exactly I was looking at.

Then it hit me. My insides did a little wet flip and I froze. I dropped the controller again, no buttons being pressed when it hit the floor this time. I was staring at the image, mouthing "what the fuck" to myself over and over. I stayed like that for a while, my body completely functionless as I gaped at the screen.

It was a shot of Naomi with her legs uncrossed. It was the very first photo I had taken after switching on the game. It was the photo that had started this horrible journey. Now, however, I could actually see her pussy. It was a real image of a pussy - not pixelated or anything. It was just sitting right in front of me in incredible detail.

If I were still a teenager, I'm sure I would have been delighted that all my hard work had paid off. I'm pretty sure every kid who tried getting a photo of her snatch back then would have felt the same, especially when compared to the black void that too many of us actually faced. However, I was far from aroused in this situation.

I noticed the pussy was moving, pulsing with every breath as though I was watching a movie instead of an image. It was like some voyeur's spy cam or something and it was squelching.

As I sat there, speechless, blood slowly seeped from the inside, dribbling over her lips and legs and spreading fast. When her pussy was completely caked in red, Naomi finally began to move her body. She was slowly leaning down towards the camera. I really didn't want to see her face, but I couldn't look away.

Then she was screaming and staring at me with those horrible eyes and twisted mouth. She wasn't looking at the camera, but at me. I screamed back before she lunged.

Out of nowhere, I found strength. I watched as my arm shot out from my body and hit the power button. Her scream cut short. The screen went blank. I tore the memory card from its slot and held it as though it was some potent drug. I realised I was breathing heavily. I kept staring at the name SAM in white Tipp-Ex as my lungs gradually relaxed. I never plugged it back in.

That was the last time I ever played VR Missions. I still have the memory card in my drawer, but I daren't open it. A part of me wants to bind the damn thing, but the other part won't let me.

Maybe one day I'll give it another go, just to see how messed up the rest of the game is. Perhaps I'll buy some of the other games and see how fucked up Sam's saves for them are. Maybe I'll try to figure out what games those other, corrupt saves are for. Maybe.

But for now...well...the memory card can stay in that drawer until I'm ready.


I'm hoping this gets out to someone. I doubt it will, but there's always a chance that it could, right? I'm sitting here in what used to be my room as I type this. The TV is on, I have the window open, and the sun is shining. Sounds great, right? Unfortunately, no. This isn't my room. This isn't my house. It's all a perfect replica created by him.

I don't remember being stalked. Hell, I don't even remember how or when I got here. I guess the memory loss is bad even after you've been destroyed by him. I say destroyed because I haven't been killed, yet I wouldn't really call what's happening to me "living." Wait, I haven't explained who he is. Though with words like stalk and memory loss, I think you can figure out who he is.

The internet meme. That overplayed bastard. Slender Man.

I know you must be sick of Slender Man stories, but please listen. I believe at one point I fell victim to him. Let me take you back to that day and a few other days as well, I suppose.

One day, I was at home getting ready to go out. I was dressed and about to open the door of my room to leave and next thing I knew, I was in a dark void. The void warped and twisted around me as I stood there, trying to get my bearings. There was no up or down, no left or right.

I was just there in a swirl of colors that made my eyes hurt with how vibrant they were and how fast they were moving. I rubbed my eyes and when they focused, I was back in my room. I threw my door open, expecting to see the hallway I desperately needed. Nausea hit me rather quickly, so I was trying to hurry to the bathroom just in case.

There was nothing there. It wasn't like there was no one in the hall, but rather there was literally nothing there. It was the black void. There was no sound or air, just darkness. It was like what had happened before the colorful terror.

I slammed the door shut and turned to bury my face in a pillow, as I was so confused and afraid. However, when I turned, I saw him. He stood there, towering over me in that idiotic suit, tentacle arms at his sides and head craned downward to stare at me.

"Welcome," he said to me.

He didn't actually speak, however. He has no mouth, after all. Instead, I saw words in the same scratchy, messy font from the notes he sends to those Youtubers. It was silly, cheesy, and dumb...all words I know you're thinking, but it's true.

He displayed that stupid font in front of me, suspended in the air. I swiped my hand across the letters to get them out of my face, but they remained. It was as if the words were being projected by an overhead projector. They remained there and distorted over the contours of my hand.

As I stared at the words, they began to fade and I realized my captor was gone. I had been taken by him and he was holding me hostage or prisoner or whatever he wanted to call me. I sat down in my armchair and looked up at my desk.

I saw that, as in the "real" world, there was my computer. Eagerly, I turned it on and waited for it to boot up. He had left me a means to communicate out! I was going to be free if I could get word out to someone.

I was wrong. I could sign on to AIM, Yahoo, and MSN just fine, but each list was empty. No one was online, not even people who never sign out. I changed my preferences to show people who were offline and everyone on the lists from before WERE offline.

I tried my browser to see if I actually had internet access. My finger twitched on the mouse button as the browser started up. Never had I been so eager to see vapid new stories and flash ads before me.

The homepage loaded and everything was there. News, games, everything. I went to Facebook to see if the homepage was just some catched page. I thought that if Facebook was updating, I'd be good.

Even Facebook loaded perfectly. I could see new statuses and links show up on my news feed, but my status bar was gone. Comment boxes were gone and even the chat bar was missing.

He was allowing me to go online and see life go on, but he wouldn't let me speak to anyone. I slumped back in my chair and watched the news feed update. It scrolled along, showing me what everyone was doing, but I could interact with none of it. What was I going to do? Was I dead? Was I in some other dimension? I had nothing now.

Over time, I began to just live my life again. I watched TV. I went on my usual websites. I enjoyed what I could. I don't know how he was piping all of this in, but he wasn. he would pop in now and then to check on me, too.

One day, he finally "spoke" to me again. He told me I wasn't dead. I was merely his and I wasn't going home, nor was I going to die. He told me I should never have looked into him and that this was all my fault.

From that point on, he started harvesting things from my brain. He was taking fantasies and the things I loved and began to make them real. Whatever I could think up - whatever was on my mind that I used to put myself into a happy place - was fodder for him.

Soon I was going on Pokemon quests. I was fighting in the Battle City tournament. I was flying through space on the Normandy beating up evil aliens. I was kicking ass with Nathan Drake and stealing treasures. I even owned my own successful business. Yet every time, he came and ripped it all to shreds. Each one turned into some bad creepypasta when he showed up.

That Pokemon quest? He was the League Champion when I got to the end. He had no Pokemon at all, though. I sent mine out to try and attack him, but he stabbed each one with a rigid tentacle. I saw my team fall dead to the ground as the world warped and distorted around me.

I was dropped at a Pokemon Center, where everyone's critters were dead and the trainers were all maimed. They screamed out that their Pokemon had turned on them before seizing and dying. They cried so much that many were hyperventilating while others were starting to go mad. The sky turned red and the screams grew louder. Then everything went out like a TV turning off.

In Battle City, he fought me atop the tower on Kaiba's Alcatraz. He had no deck, no Duel Disk...nothing. Every time I played a card, he had one better that he pulled out from anywhere. When I pulled ahead, he destroyed me with cheap moves.

His field would go from empty to full in a mere turn and all hope I had for winning was constantly dashed. Then, as I lost my last Life Point, he destroyed the tower and let us fall into the ocean. I fell, tumbling through the air as debris fell around me.

As I looked up, I could see him slowly descending - standing still - and merely "staring" at me. I hit the water hard and struggled to find the way up. Pieces of the tower knocked into me, sending me around in circles until I opened my eyes and saw the faint light of the surface.

I finally surfaced and looked out to shore, where I saw nothing but destruction. Demented versions of cards ransacked the city. They were so familiar, but looked so demonic I couldn't even begin to fathom any comparisons to describe them. It's as if they were an amalgamation of all that was evil in the world, but I know that makes zero sense.

Buildings fell, explosions went off, and the sounds of screaming were quickly drowned out by piercing laughter that ranged from demonically deep to squeaky and disturbing. Bodies were being flung into the water next to me by the grotesque monsters, blood and innards raning down onto me as I treaded water for as long as I could.

I swam to the shore, desperate to get out of this fantasy, but once again he shattered it. It went crashing around me, shards of my surroundings flying everywhere with a warped crashing sound ringing in my ears.

In the next one, I was fighting aliens and robots with Shepard. It seemed like no other crew was around. We were freeing people trapped on a remote planet and were so close to deactivating the forcefields holding them captive in a large cell when he came to ruin things.

We had spent hours collecting access codes and fending off hoards of guards, but we were still standing and about to make it through and he was here to ruin it. He caused the shield to generate more power once we went to punch in the last access code.

The amount of power building in the shield was too unstable, causing it to intensify to dangerous levels. Once the shield had overloaded, it sent out a surge of energy that electrocuted everyone in the cell, causing them to scream out in tinny, hollow yells of pain.

The console that controlled the shield was fried and electricity arced out and hit Shepard. His armor overloaded and glowed red due to the intense heat, every bit of it frying from the overload. He was being cooked alive in what was supposed to protect him.

Then Slender Man showed himself, standing in the space between us and the now dead prisoners. My eyes focused on him and everything went silent. I blinked. I was back in my room with the scent of burned flesh lingering in the air.

I won't recount the other stories here, as I don't have the energy. Each one is as bad as the others, so forgive me for not wanting to remember them. I bet you think they all sound like bad creepypastas written by teenagers and I did warn you.

I bet you think stories about Pokemon are stupid. You know what, though? You're right. He took every silly thought, every wish, every fun little fantasy I've ever had and turned it against me. He created the elaborate worlds to dangle happiness in front of my face, only to destroy them.

He's even been toying with the fake weather outside my window. Rain while sunny, tornadoes, intense heat, upside down rain...he'll do anything absurd to confuse me. He even changes the day/night cycles to keep me tired and confused.

None of the clocks in my room run properly, nor do any of them display the correct times. Nothing on the internet has times or dates attached and the TV schedule seems to change mid-show, so I have no other means to help me know where I am in time.

To make this all stop, I purposefully fantasized about killing him. I fantasized about ripping his tentacles off and stabbing through his blank head with as big a knife I could think of. He even let them come true. I got in every means of horrible torture I could in each fantasy.

Not once would he ever be able to live once I got through with him. But, of course, once I killed him, sat back, and reveled in my victory, he was gone. The body was gone and he was standing in front of me, staring. He laughed. There was no sound, no words, but I could feel the laughter.

Truthfully, I'm not even scared anymore. I guess when I think back to specific parts of his destructions of my fantasies, I get a bit scared. I'm not even pissed off anymore. Mostly, I'm just tired. I'm defeated. This is what he wanted, after all. He's keeping me alive only to torture me.

I live in my fantasies and try to make the best of it, but I know he will always come to destroy it all. I want out. Hell, I'll take death at this point so that I don't have to risk him coming back for me. Now I'm beginning to believe this happens to everyone. After all, the only things ever found of the abducted are bags of body parts so that might not even be them. They could be in their own pocket dimensions being tortured as well.

If this gets out, please try to find a way to at least save yourself. I can't get email to go out successfully, but he may let this one out to use it against me. After all, he may just end up stalking my reader. For that, I'm sorry.

Another fantasy is starting. I should go. I think this one is where I'm a detective...

The Raven

Apparently, you assholes on the internet don't take me seriously.
I'd like to live normally, to not have these 'wings.'

I'll retell this a little more clearly.

Day 1
My eyes are darker. It's the whole eye. They're a type of silver. They glow and reflect like a cat's eyes.

Day 4
It's getting harder to breathe. My eyes are completely black, not silver anymore.

Day 5
There are cuts on my back - huge, deep cuts. They reak like blood and decaying flesh.

Day 6
I passed out in a large pool of blood.

Day 9
I awoke. I have wings. They're black and look like a bird's.

Day 10
I can no longer speak, just...noises. Crowing. It's nothing a human could make.

Day 12
It's cold.

Day 16
I have nothing left to write. I can't talk and my vision is fading. I fear I will soon lose all my senses. I can barely hear or taste. Don't bother sending help, if you could. It's a lost cause.

-The Raven

(This story is credited to a person called Midnight Agony.)


I was browsing /b/ on 4chan the other day when someone posted a link. Their name was Anonymous, which was usual for 4chan. There were a bunch of comments on it, so I decided to click the link.

The link was to a file on Megaupload called "DEAFFOUND." I downloaded it, but Norton rejected it due to it being infected with some sort of virus.

When I went back to 4chan, all posts said "DEAFFOUND." For some reason, my computer froze soon after. I turned the computer back on, but it didn't start up properly. It showed my background with no files, start menu, or anything of the sort (explorer.exe didn't appear to be running). Almost automatically, a file opened. It was called "DEAFFOUND."

It was a Nintendo 64 emulator. I tried opening any ROM files, but all that could be found in the file browser was a corrupted file with a URL for the title. I went through the back way to open Google Chrome and typed the URL in.

My computer's screen blacked out for ten seconds and it froze. For a split second, it looked like a word or two flashed on the screen, but I didn't have enough time to read it as it was too fast.

After the computer froze and the screen came back, the page opened. However, something was wrong with my browser. There were no words anywhere on the window...just the layout. When Youtube finally fully loaded, I was on a channel called "DEAFFOUND."

There were also no words on the channel, nor was there a layout or avatar. The weird thing was that it said the account was created on October 31, 2011. This startled me, as that's today.

I began investigating by clicking on the first video, "DONT_WAIT." It was one minute and eight seconds long. The first 42 seconds of the video were comprised of black video with echoing noises in the background.

The words "Don't Wait" appeared on screen before it went black again. Exactly ten seconds afterward, it showed a trail in the woods with a ton of distorted video. The sound sounded like a phone left off a hook. The words "FIND ME" appeared after that. What really frightened me is that the trail in the video was the same trail I usually ride my bike down.

I rode my boke down there and looked around for anything suspicious. After around ten minutes, I stepped on a thin, blank disc. Actually, not far from that blank disc was a whole box of discs. I took them home and put them into my computer one by one.

They were just dupe files called "new file," save for one. On one of the discs was written the number seventeen. I put it into the computer and, not surprisingly, there was a file on it named "17." I opened it and it turned out to be an HTML file that linked to DEAFFOUND's Youtube channel.

Afterward, my computer shut itself down. When I tried to start it back up, all I could get it to do was show the word "DEAFFOUND" on the screen. It doesn't do anything else. I wish I never clicked that link.

I sent my computer to get fixed, but they said there was nothing they could do to fix it. They would want me to get a new computer because the virus on my computer was fatal. Now I'm using my dad's computer. Everything is fine, for now.


I'm lying in what appears to be a hospital bed with my legs and chest strapped down. It's been about four hours or so since I woke up and I don't remember how I got here or anything that happened since a week ago, when I fell asleep holding my girlfriend.

I know it's been a week becuase my phone and watch both say the same date. I managed to reach my phone and hold it up enough to type this, but I'm not sure anyone will get this message.

There's white walls on every side of me and I can make out a light on the roof, but it's off. The only light aside from my phone is coming from the screen suspended above me. It's horrible, but my eyes won't close or look away for longer than a few moments...just enough to slowly type this.

The screen shows another white room, but this one's upright. In the middle of the screen I can see it.

I'm not sure what it is, but it's not human. Its shape is humanoid, but it's definitely not human. Its skin is grey - pale beyond belief - and its hair is pitch black, haing down messily and covering half its face.

I've been lying here in silence since I awoke. My throat is dry, but I know I'm capable of sound. However, my mouth won't open and my voice won't sound. My fingers don't make a sound on the touch screen. All I've heard is my own breathing getting shallower and shallower. I might not have long left.

I opened my mouth to take a deep breath and the screen above me moved. It hadn't moved until I opened my mouth, but now it's standing there with its mouth held open, a pit of darkness that shadows themselves seem to ooze from.

Just like mine, its mouth stopped. I can hear it. Not from the screen, but from everywhere. It's whispering to me, not in its own voice, but every one I've ever heard. I can't make out any words that make coherent sentences, but it knows my name.

I shook my head and clenched my teeth to try to block it out and, as I stared up at the screen, it mimicked me, looking right into the camera. Its mouth was open with horrible, pointed teeth grinning at me. I can see its eyes...if I can even call them eyes. They shine like light, but it isn't light; it's pure darkness, an area void of light at all, looking straight into the camera at me.

A tear rolls down my cheek sideways and down its. It's not a tear of water, but something black and burning. Why can't I close my eyes?

I couldn't take it anymore. I started screaming, convulsing under my restraints. What happened stopped me dead after a moment. It didn't shake. It took a step closer to the camera. It isn't screaming, either. It's laughing through a gap in its jagged, pure white teeth. The voices all laugh as one and tears pour down both its face and my own.

At the top of my lungs, I scream as I shake, desperate to get escape this hellish torment. As my eyes focus on the screen, I see that it is gone. A tear of relief slides down my cheek. Next to my ear I hear a sizzling noise and black smoke is drifting up. I shift up my gaze, finaly free of the hypnotic screen, and the tears start silently again.

It's standing over me. Tears of darkest pitch drop down my face while the darkness of its eyes and mouth spreads.

Somebody help...


Most of the stories you read about haunted video games involve someone getting the game from a yard sale or from eBay. However, this is something I brought upon myself.

I love and collect Nintendo 64 games. I usually get them in boxes with other games I bought online and then takes the ones I want to keep and put them in my collection. The ones I don't put in, I mod. I've gotten kind of good at it, so I sold a few to some friends of mine.

About a month of time, one friend wanted me to hack a copy of Ocarina of Time for him. He told me he wanted it for a creepypasta he was writing. Personally, I like some of those sotries, but I didn't understand why he wanted the game for it.

I asked him why he couldn't just do the story without a game. He said he wanted to do a video of him playing it to make the story more "real." I just kind of laughed at the idea. At least I was going to get paid for it.

The story he sent me was nothing special. He gets a copy of Ocarina of Time from eBay. He plays it and odd things happen - pallate swaps, strange sounds, backwards music, bleeding eyes, jumbled text, and other cliches found in these stories.

As you know, modding can take a while. I finally finished two days ago and sat down to test it. I had everything set up to record my playthrough. Why? Because I wanted to see how it looked after I finished testing it.

I turned it on and everything was working fine. The game started with some static, but it was supposed to do that. Like I wanted it to, the game started up a file instantly. Link was standing in the middle of Hyrule Field at night.

Link's tunic and eyes were black. There was some low moaning and some thunder sound effects. The game played just like I wanted it to; it made me feel proud of my work. That's when things started to get weird.

I was walking through Kakariko Village when there was a high-pitched scream, followed by a strange animation from Link. He quickly looked from side to side, like he was in some kind of panic, and drew his sword. This freaked me out. I didn't program that animation, nor was the sound effect anything I had put in.

I sat down the controller and went over to my computer. I didn't remember programming any new animations and wanted to see what the problem was. I looked through my programs for a specific one.

Not that long ago, I got a program named Lace. It allows me to make custom animations for Link. According to the information on it, it was last used a few days earlier. Maybe I did use it, but forgot about it. But...what about the scream? I didn't have anything like it in any of my sound files.

Suddenly, there were noises coming from the game. I went back and Link was surrounded by ten Cuccos in a circle. They were just sitting there, looking at Link. I had made their eyes red to make them look creepy, and it sure did work.

As soon as I moved the analog stick, they all swarmed him and he was dead in an instant. If that wasn't enough, the Running Man (the guy you sell the Bunny Hood to) ran up. A dialogue box popped up for him.


That's when the game froze. I didn't program any of that stuff. In a panic, I turned off the game and went to my computer. I looked at the video to confirm what just happened. None of what I had seen was on the video. The scream, panicked Link, the Cuccos, the Running Man...none of it was there.

It was just Link standing there for a while befor ethe game froze. I went through the game's programming and played it a few times again. I could never get that same thing to happen.I told my friend about it, but he thought I was just messing with him. I'm glad I no longer have that cursed thing.

I even got paid for it.


She was beautiful.

She and I would sit with my laptop for hours on end, looking for the scariest things we could find. It was an odd relationship, but it worked. Something just clicked when I was with her. She was the love of my life and my best friend. Nowadays, I would give anything to have her back.

She knew of the things I had seen.

She dismissed it. Ah, Jordan, it's just your mind playing tricks on you. I wonder if she still thinks it was just my mind.

Really, she was always worried about me. I suppose that when you look at it from her perspective - the perspective of one who hadn't lived the way I had, who hadn't seen what I had seen - it would rationalize her train of thought. Sometimes, I wonder if she thought me insane. I know there were some times she did.

The love in her eyes when we lay together, when we made love, and when we scared ourselves silly...I just knew that it was because of that love that I would never lose her. She was mine 'till death did us part.

I really don't know how to describe the things I see - beautiful, lumbering, graceful, damned, hateful, loving...I wouldn't be wrong in saying slender and that's no allusion. Just as damned as the drunk that walks down the street from the bar each night, scratching his sickly face and adjusting the old worn hat on his head, only to have it fall on its slant once more moments later.

Just as loving as a mother to her kin.

They are us, essentially, with long, cracked-looking limbs and expressions that can be both grotesque and beautiful. They are young and old, just as we are, and they are all varied greatly. They are the walking souls that never lived, not unborn and not undead.

I've been seeing them for three years now, in numbers just as great as humans. They are their own society, treating us as though we do not exist. They do not behave as we do, however, and I told her and saw fear in her eyes...not of the beings of which I spoke, but for myself and my mental state of being. She loved me but, alas, she couldn't see. Seeing was believing.

There ws a day, about two months ago, when I walked with her. The same walk we'd walked a thousand times before. We lived on a circular road and often made the loop together while talking. I'd noted that, although the loop was our usual route, there'd only been one route we'd completely avoided in all those months we were lovers. It was the road the mayor lived on: Bowater.

This particular day, I suggested to her that we walk up through Bowater, as I'd never gone far enough to reach the end of the street in question. She devoutly refused and explained that there was a night long ago when she was followed down the road by a large, black, burly figure of insurmountable height. Knowing what I've seen, she also dismissed any nothing of paranormality. I was unconvinced, but I left well enough alone and we continued on our usual treck.

I really should have seen it coming, but we were so vulnerable.

Julia caled me one, morning. Around 3:00 AM, to be precise. She told me she was scared, that she was seeing and hearing things. That she needed to talk. I stayed on the phone with her for two hours, just trying to calm her down as much as I possibly could. I did my best to calm her down. It almost worked.

She was dozing off and I was happy to hear it. I was really tired too. Then...a thump. It was almost a footstep, but not quite. I couldn't hear it really well over the phone, but I could tell it wasn't a footstep. Wait. Julia. Back to that.

After the thump, I heard her stop breathing. I panicked and said her name twice. She cut me off the third time with a scream. I heard a commotion. I heard her running. I heard a door slam and lock, then I heard more running and curtains moving. I spoke her name a couple more times.

"Julia? Julia?" I said.

"Jordan, don't go. Please don't go." came the reply.

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

"She's out there. In the hallway."

"Who's in the hallway, Julia?"

"I don't KNOW who's in the hallway, Jordan? It's just a SHE. It's white. It smiles with its eyes...SHE smiles. SHE."

"Julia, calm down. Calm down. What is she?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Jordan. I can't describe it. I just want to forget. Talk to me, Jordan. Talk to me, please, about anything. Just not that."

There was a reason I wanted to know. I wanted to know because I've never ever seen one in a house...until the night before that. What I'd seen was unlike everything else.

Everything else had remained very humanoid to an extent. This...this was like a mafia murder gone wrong. Like someone had stuffed her body in a suitcase and left her alive to grow that way. Her face...her face was smiling. It was a sickly black, toothless grin with wide, white bloodshot eyes. A black object that looked to be a horn with a ball end extended slightly from where her nose would have been.

What sickened me was that her face was hanging. LITERALLY hanging from this ball-ended horn. It was like a child's halloween mask. The gap between her face and head was held together loosely by blood-soaked skin, stretched to purple like tiny little slimy rope ligaments. Her face wriggled and spun loosely, hanging by the ball end and ligaments...making small squelching noises as she moved.

Her arms stretched under her legs and bent with four joints each to become hind legs of some sort. It was like some kind of sick, disfigured child was trying to play leap frog. Her legs were relatively normal, though I couldn't see them well under the pure white dress she wore.

The last defining feature of this thing were the three grotesque humps protruding from her back.

It was on my porch. I'd gone to use the washroom and decided to turn the kitchen light on so I could find the bathroom light switch (our bathroom connects to the kitchen for some reason). I turned on the light and there was nothing.

I went to the bathroom, finished what I had to do, and walked to the porch to turn the kitchen light off. I was greeted by the sight of that THING as I entered the porch. It looked up, its head lulled sickly to the side, and it smiled at me.

At that point, I was used to seeing things, but the sight of this creature sickened me so badly I felt that, instead of hitting the switch and making a run for my bedroom, I'd have to say "To hell with it" and run to the toilet to puke. I followed through with the former and kept my bedroom door locked for the rest of the night. I did eventually manage to sleep, but it was light and restless.

Now, I was sure that Julia was seeing exactly what I'd seen the night before. I couldn't pressure her about it, however, or I'd scare her even more. I talked gently to her and calmed her down. Soon, sleep was unavoidable and she drifted, allowing me to finally sleep myself.

The days went by and Julia now refused to go near Bowater road. There was also a new path she was staying clear of: a trail we'd always used to use to cut through to the park. She was hiding something and I resolved to find out what.

Soon after, I spent most of the days with her. The sweet summer air was a welcome change from the rain we'd been experiencing for the last week. I tried to ask her about that night, but she refused to talk. She just wouldn't say a word about it.

We walked and soon went to my place. She wasn't so excited about our scary hour any more, so we just cuddled. I swear to God there was never a moment that day that I doubted she was the love of my life.

We went our separate ways that night, parting with a long, lingering kiss. It was another reminder of our promise to one another. I told her to tell me if anything happened and that I'd be over in a second if she needed me. She did, after all, only live across the street.

That night, she never said much online. I tried to elicit conversation, but was met with a bunch of nondescript oohs, ahhs, and cools. Around 1:30 AM, she went offline. At 2:00 AM, I got a text and sighed with relief upon seeing it was her. The content of the text, however, set my stomach to unrest once more.

"Im going for a walk, sorry."

I looked out the window to her house and saw not a single light on. Not even in her bedroom. I noticed her front door open and she walked - or at least stumbled - out, cloaked in her long, pink jacket that was far too large to be wearing on a semi-cool summer's night. I couldn't see her face very well.

I tossed some shoes on and ran outside just in time to see her nearly disappear on the loop of Circular road. I walked fast, keeping my distance and keeping quiet. When she stopped, I got scared.

She was standing in front of the trail. The one she'd avoided so heavily.

She stood there for a good five minutes and I almost moved to go with her before noticing she was no longer alone.

One of the things walked out of the trail. This one was different, as well, but nowhere near as grotesque as the ones I'd seen beofre. This one wore a wooden mask. It was what I would have called a Plague Doctor mask. The long 'nose' of the mask descended to its chest and it was, otherwise, cloaked in black. A long, skinny arm reached out of the cloak towards Julia and she reached toward it, holding something in her hand.


No no no.

It wasn't a hand she held outwards.

It was a foot.

My heart stopped. I knew. I just knew. I'd never bothered to question the way she walked, as though drunken. I'd never even bothered to look at her feet. Or her hands.

I looked down and, sure enough, there were two hands with spindly, long fingers stretched over the road in the street light's midst. My heart stopped and broke at the same time, for I knew that the face I looked at was that of my beloved.

My beloved. My Julia.

I yelled. I yelled with so much force and anger that the Plague Doctor himself flinched. Julia turned and I got my first clear look at her face - scared, regretful. Dead.

The Plague Doctor walked up behind her, grabbing the jacket from the front, as if hugging her, and tore it open. I was greeted by the girl thing from the night before, her body cozily hugged by my Julia's hollowed ribcage...for that a spine, a neck, and a head were all that was left of my beloved.

I cried. I cried out, to myself and to the things that killed her. I cried with rage and heartbreak, loudly and angrily, and began to run. I ran toward them, glaring at that detached face and waiting for its stupid fucking grin to fade. I glared, waiting for the satisfaction I'd get at seeing the fear in its bloodshot eyes before I bashed its fucking skull in.

It smiled widely.

I made it under the street light, merely ten feet away from the thing, sickeningly cradled by Julia's body, when I was grabbed. I spun around to see nothing, but when I looked to my side there was a bony, blue hand holding onto my shoulder.

I looked up and there was another one of them. It was hanging from the street light, a noose tightened around its neck. It sface was blue and old, like the rest of it, and it was smiling.

Unlike the girl thing, this being had no eyes. Rather, it had a crazy, wise glint in its empty sockets. Its feet were suspended three feet above my head, but its arms were disgustingly long - long enough to grab me.

I tried to run, to continue towards the killer, but those fragile looking limbs held me tightly in place.

I looked up again and cursed that stupid fucking thing for keeping me from killing the killer. It merely smiled a smile that would have looked encouraging on a normal old man and, for the first time, I heard the voice of one of them.

It spoke as it smiled, in an old man's soft voice. It spoke but one word before tossing me a good five feet back. I landed on my side and a sharp pain shot through my body, temporarily paralyzing me. I got up and they were gone. All that was left was the hollow body of my beloved, on the ground and staring up at me sadly.

I ran. By god, I ran. I ran home, snuck inside, and went straight to my room. I soberly reflected on everything I'd ever done with Julia. I reflected on all of it and smiled. That morning, I awoke with the firm belief that my beloved was alive and it ws all a bad dream.

I phoned her, to let her know how much I loved her and how thankful I was that I'd met her in the first place.

Her father picked up. He told me her body was found two hours ago by the park trail. I hung up and proceeded to break down. It's been a month since she died and I still think of what the hanged creature told me that night.

One word.


(This story is credited to someone called Jordan.)

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Perch Creek

It took Jeremy four years to convince his parents that it would be a good idea to take a vacation in Perch Creek. Jeremy was really into snow and loved the sights of Perch Creek. His boyfriend, Ron, lived there as well.

Jeremy's parents, after almost two years of saying no, decided that it would be okay this year to visit, because at least the town had a mall and an ice skating rink.

Jeremy was extremely excited. He signed onto Skip to tell Ron of the good news. Ron was equally excited and the two talked for hours about what they would do. Being young boys, they also shared sex fantasies between each other. As they were talking, Jeremy stopped and looked closer at the screen.

Ron: "What's wrong, Jeremy?"

Jeremy: "Who's that?"

Jeremy pointed to Ron's window. Because they were using video chat, Ron could see Jeremy's hand. He spun around as fast as he could. As he did, whoever "that" was dropped below the rim of the window.

Ron walked over to it, without the camera, and opened the window. He looked around for a few minutes then went back to his computer.

Ron: "I think you're seeing things, babe."

Ron laughed. Jeremy didn't. He was extremely worried that someone might have been outside his house. Ron promised he would be safe and, if anything happened, he'd call the police. Eventually, Jeremy gave in. They said their goodbyes and went to sleep.

The following week came and went, with no figure returning to his window, so Ron was able to calm Jeremy. The boy said okay. On that Friday, the two were talking on Skip.

Ron: "What's up, babe?"

Jeremy: "I get to see you soon! Like, tomorrow!"

Ron: "I know. I'm so excited."

Jeremy: "I love you."

Ron: "I-"

Ron was cut off by a smashing sound in his house. Jeremy began getting increasingly nervous. He repeatedly asked Ron to call the police, but Ron calmed him down, telling him it was probably nothing.

That was one bad thinga bout Ron: he thought he was the shit. This led him into a lot of trouble, but Jeremy was never there to deal with it, so he never worried too much. This time, though, he was really worried - with good reason, too.

Jeremy had looked up any crimes being committed in Perch Creek recently. There was a pretty bad string of burglaries that led to murders.

They were all committed in the same way. Someone would look in on a family through their windows and the following week break in and kill them. In pretty gruesome ways, too.

The perpetrator would cut the victim's fingers off, one by one, and slit their throats. Afterward, he would disembowel them and completely disappear. Jeremy was pretty sure this was happening, so much so he was in tears begging Ron to stop.

Ron didn't list. In fact, he ended up muting his computer and putting it down so Jeremy would stop complaining. Ron walked into the next room and Jeremy never saw him again.

Ron was killed in the same way as all the other victims. Jeremy, needless to say, was now bawling his eyes out. That was...until the sound came back on and Jeremy could hear deep breathing.

When Jeremy lifted his face, on the other end of the video chat was that man from the window, staring at him. He pointed to Jeremy and waved hello before turning off the computer. Jeremy felt his heart sink.

He was easily able to talk his parents out of the trip to Perch Creek, telling them about the murders and what happened. The family called the police to check the video on Jeremy's computer, to see if they cound identify the perp. Nothing came of it.

Nothing happened for the next sixteen years. Eventually, Jeremy decided to go to Perch Creek to say goodbye to his old boyfriend permanently. He took his new boyfriend, Richard, and the two packed away for Perch Creek. They arrived on a Saturday, during a blistering hail storm, and walked to the cemetery.

Jeremy said goodbye to his deceased boyfriend - the final goodbye - and the two decided to sleep the night in a motel. This motel, however, was right at the edge of the Ichor forest.

At 3:00AM, the door to their room burst open. Jeremy shot out of bed and saw his worst fear: that same man from sixteen years ago. The man was coming towards him. Jeremy started crying and woke up Richard, who stood up and went to fight the man. The man easily subdued Richard and grabbed Jeremy.

He beat Jeremy almost to death and eventually threw him to the floor. When he started cutting Jeremy's finger's off, the boy passed out from the pain.

The last thing Jeremy rememebered was the motel disappearing as he was dragged into Ichor forest, the horrific sound of crunching bones heard somewhere near him. It was like something was hungry.

Like something needed another meal.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Luna Game

I found this cute little My Little Pony game about Princess Luna (I think that's her name. I don't watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic).

Click here.

I played it and thought it was really cute. The only problem is that it sometimes freezes up, but that's probably just partial incompatibility with Windows 7. Hope you guys have fun!

If your antivirus says the file has a virus attached to it, it is a false positive. If you really don't believe me, use VirusTotal to have it scanned through a number of virus scanners.

Monday, October 24, 2011

White Ditto

This story is true, and to this day has freaked me out, so I figured I'd share it for Halloween since it is almost here and since it is one of my favorite holidays. I have never told anyone this before because it has been so bizarre for me to take in. Could my game be "haunted"?

Is there more to the MISSINGNO glitch than meets the eye? Did some GameFreak developer die while working on this game and is this is some kind of tribute, or could this even be a paranormal happening?? I don't know, but this freaks me out. Enjoy. :/

The background music is the theme that played in Lavender Town in the game, but reversed. The picture is some weird Jigglypuff thing I found off google images. Fitting to say the least.

EDIT: Right after I got through uploading this at 5.30am in the morning, my phone rings... it says "Private Caller" on the caller ID and they leave no message. WTF. Who could be calling at this hour?

Watch til the end, holy shit. Also, I have some good news, and some bad news.

The good news is I re-installed Vegas after I recorded this video and it is working. Even though I am freaked out and slightly scared, I plan to post the ending to the story and my explanation of the events soon because you guys are so interested.

More good news is that I bought a device that will let me transfer my Pokemon Blue Save file to my computer to be played on a rom so I can record it and show you guys the infamous creepy "White Ditto" as well as a freaky event that happened in-game that will be revealed in the story conclusion.

The bad news is that I don't know what other bad luck or strange happenings will come my way, or what may halt my progress with this strange video game phenomenon. It definitely seems some outside force does NOT want me to share any of this, though.

Everyone thinks this is a creepy pasta, or a Halloween prank. Despite how many times I say "this is real" people on the internet will believe what they want. So, do just that, I don't care. But I'm glad this has received such a good response and is entertaining regardless of what you believe. It's just a shame this has all been so stressful for me, as these "paranormal happenings" really do scare me.

Ok, so, I had to re-install Sony Vegas just to edit this. The music used is a slowed down version of Lavender town music.

No matter how many times I say "this is real" or "this isn't a Halloween" prank people will believe what they want, so draw your own assumptions. I'm on the fence as to whether or not this is coincidence or something paranormal.

The blue theory is very interesting one that you guys pointed out. Everything that has been messed with or has screwed up has been blue. This includes; the blue cartridge, the glacier blue gameboy, the blue SD card, blue screening Laptop, a drawer with blue items in it, Sony Vegas' icon is blue, my blue LED mouse, and now, I realize, even my Blue Snowball. My Twitter page, which is blue, keeps saying I don't exist sometimes when people try to go to it. What could it all mean? Could something be trying to lead me on with clues? I don't know.

I now have a fever though and am laid up in bed. I've been having some bad headaches too. So I'll save some more explanations for the next video.

Here's the paranormal investigation I did a year ago that I reference in the video... I think this might be related somehow:

I will have footage of the white ditto on my channel tomorrow, along with another weird anomaly I discovered on my version of the game.

Re-posting this as for whatever reason, the old video was deleted from my videos here on YouTube. The quality might be worse than the old one too, so sorry.

So, this investigation was done in my former home. The last time I played Pokemon Blue was around this time period, and before the investigation, my friends and I did in fact use a Ouija board. I really think this has something to do with the events occurring in my new home, and I think it has something to do with the Blue cartridge.

I haven't messed with the cartridge for a few days now. I've been trying to stay out of my house and have been going over to friends' houses a lot. I did transfer the save file from the cartridge to my PC though to easily record the white ditto, but I haven't bothered to record it yet. I bought another Gameboy and its shipping to me in due time. I'm afraid it will break as well though. We'll see.

What could all this mean? The blue items being messed with, videos vanishing, the white ditto... I feel as if I'm trying to figure out a puzzle with missing pieces. Please leave your thoughts below in the comments, I need your help in uncovering what is actually going on.

Ok, so after transferring my save file from my cartridge over to my PC, I was able to record this without any technology problems... sort of. However, as I suspected, the emulator/screen recorder crashed soon afterward, oddly enough at the same time. I am going to mess around in the game more and try to record stuff for you guys.

Lately the odd sounds in my house are getting worse. I'm going to start recording myself at all times, or at least parts of my house to see if I can catch anything to upload.

At this point, I am genuinely scared. After this was recorded, I captured something on Blue a second ago that pretty much solidifies that all this is connected to the game. I'll upload it tomorrow. It's the strangest thing I've ever seen.

Also, please realize that I can't upload commentated gaming videos unless I go to my friend's house as my mic is on the fritz. Please be patient and stop annoying me about it in the comments, thankyou.

EDIT: There is definitely no "cut" at 1:52 in the video, but a camera glitch or glitch that happened in rendering that was not my doing. I just looked at it and it "replays" the same scene that just happened for a split second. Very odd, could be a frame skip or something. A little later on the camera pixelates and cuts out as well, so I'd say its the camera and not something that glitched in the render.

I don't know what to title this video, so I'll just make the title what the capture program assigned it. Anyway, the story goes like this.

While waiting for my Gameboy Advance to come in the mail (stupid ebay and their slow shipping) I decided, since the save for my Pokemon Blue is on my computer, that I would play around on it and see if I could catch any other odd occurrences, as I was certain that this game and the paranormal events that are currently happening to me are somehow related.

So, I started up the game, started my screen capture program, and right away I noticed something strange. The white Ditto had magically gained 15 levels and was at around half health. Now, I hadn't touched the game since I recorded the "original" white Ditto video, and no one else has access to my PC, so I don't know how the hell this happened. But, I just chalked it up to some random glitch/bug and moved on.

I noticed on my save file that I only had 6 badges, so I looked to see which gyms my cousin hadn't beaten. One was Viridian, obviously, and the other was Saffron. So, I boxed some of the higher level guys my cousin had glitched and/or obtained, and brought out some of the guys I was using before I let him borrow the game, like Magmar, Muk, etc. I then set out to Saffron, battling some random trainers on the way, obtaining some useful TM's like Psychic from Mr. Psychic's house, and so forth.

I always loved Saffron as a kid because there were TWO gyms instead of one; the traditional Psychic gym that was home to Sabrina, and a Fighting gym at the top of town that gave you a Hitmonlee or Hitmonchan upon beating the leader.

I decided to hit up the Fighting gym first to do some leveling, as Sabrina is a very tough trainer to face due to Psychic types being so dominate in R/B/Y.

I managed to pretty easily handle the most of the trainers in the gym due to Muk being a Poison type (thus being resistant to Fighting moves), but upon realizing that Muk would be useless against Sabrina, I switched over to Magmar to just decimate everything with Fire Blast.

I got to the leader of the gym, saved my game, and was beginning to think that nothing substantially odd would happen. It was about 15 after 1, and I had been recording for a good 30-45 minutes or so at this point, so I was about to cut off my screen recorder. But, I decided to keep recording just for the hell of it, at least until I decided I didn't want to play anymore.

With the help of a lucky burn, I beat the gym leader pretty easily with Magmar's Fire Blast, and prepared to claim my prize of either Hitmonlee or Hitmonchan. But, something strange started happening that honestly scared the hell out of me.

After beating the leader and coming out of the battle screen, the music that would normally play wasn't there. What was there was a strange, second or so loop of the same note or two over and over. This went on for a few seconds before coming to a halt altogether so no music was playing whatsoever.

But that wasn't the scary part, it was what the beaten leader said. Instead of his usual shtick about letting me choose between Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee for beating him, he said, word for word, the dialogue bit from the creepy girl in Lavender Town; "Hahaha, I guess not. That white hand on your shoulder, it's not real."

A random Pokemon cry broke the silence, and the odd looped notes started up again as the dialogue disappeared from the text box completely. Although initially frightened, for a moment I thought the game had glitched and just randomly froze.

I was about to reset the rom when suddenly, the game white screened, and I appeared in a dark cave (I assumed it to be Rock Tunnel, above Lavender Town) with the most awful sounding music I have ever heard playing in the background.

This wasn't normal music from the game on loop or anything either (hell, I wouldn't even call this music as it had no real rhythm or timing), this was a loud static hum over top of of seemingly random notes of sound. I have never heard anything like this in ANY game, let alone Pokemon.

At this point I really wanted to turn the game off out of fear, but my curiosity got the best of me. Considering I couldn't see anything in this dark cave, I decided to go to my Clefable and use Flash. When I went to my list of Pokemon, however, I noticed something really strange.

The white Ditto's overworld sprite had changed from its usual substitute doll-esque sprite to the sprite of the old man laying down at the start of the game who will only get up if you give him coffee, or something along those lines.

I go to check the stats of the thing, and it's in-game sprite was non-existent, with the only thing there being a white background. Very strange. I quickly exited out and proceeded to go up to Clefable and use Flash; upon doing so however, the game again white screened, and I then was staring at Professor Oak's sprite from the start of the game. He wasn't moving, the text box wasn't coming up, and an ANOTHER bit of weird music was playing in the background this time.

At this point my palms were sweating from nervousness and fright. I started hammering the A button, and even though I heard the "ding" selection sound it makes when going through the menus, nothing changed on the screen. I hit every button on my NES USB controller and nothing changed still.

I was about to just shut down the emulator when I realized I could reset the game by simultaneously holding select, start, A and B. I quickly did this and luckily, the game reset... only not really. Before doing so, the text box popped up under Professor Oak and simply said "Hell" before taking me back to the opening startup screen.

At this point, I realized this was all too strange to be a random glitch... this was a message. And although the game had been reset, something was still off.

Yet another form of strange music began playing as I cruised through the opening credit screens and opening video sequences. The title screen wasn't displaying properly either, not cycling through the Pokemon as it normally would, all the while a strange music played in the background.

At this point, I reset the game through the emulator menu just to see if my game was going to be permanently like this. After resetting again though, the music and sounds began to play normally again.

I stared blankly at the title screen which was displaying properly now, still in awe at what had just taken place. I then quickly shut the game off and stopped the screen capture. I had to get out of the house after what had just taken place. This, above all things, was proof enough for me that this is all connected to the game.

I haven't played since I recorded this.

(This story is credited to BlameTruth on Youtube.)

Sunday, October 23, 2011


The Ichor Forest is considered one of the most dangerous forests known to explorers. This forest, which lines the upper half of a town called Perch Creek, has some of the most oddly-formed natural waterways ever discovered.

The Ichor Effect, which is divided into two parts, is the definition of what happens to those who enter the Ichor Forest OR the definition of a natural structure that has a similar appearance and growth to the Ichor Waterway.

Part 1: The Ichor Effect that defines what happens to explorers. The exact incident, which is detailed in the town's history, was the disappearance of several explorers in the forest who had inexplicably aged or seemed to have aged. This effect is the explanation of unexplainable aging and intense paranoia/dementia.

The extreme aging is not aging at all, but the appearance of aging due to extreme stress. The body is forced to produce massive amounts of new blood cells and hair grows because of hormones and effectively ages the body.

This is the only explanation science has come up with, but is still only a theory. No effective tests could be done when the original scientists were alive and, in 1957, all tests were halted. Needless to say, there is no proof either way that the Ichor Effect can actually happen, or if it is something else.

Part 2 The second part of the Ichor Effect can only be explained by explaining the natural formation of the Ichor Waterway. Ichor Forest is surrounding a central spring that seems to be a huge, monumental steel tower with no windows or doors that rests in the middle of a natural moat. The moat then wraps in a spiral shape around the forest and through it - in equal-sized rings - all the way to the forest border.

The trees are all pointed toward the tower, as well, unless it is summer, in which the trees seem to be completely pointed upwards. Every summer, the water appears to also dry up. It is unknown why this happens, but the tree theory says it is simply an optical illusion done by years of lore.

The effect states that the repetitive nature of the waterway and forest leads to massive paranoia of impossible situations, increased hostility and anger, extreme stress, and hallucinations.

This can lead most to suicide. However, those that live appear to have age inexplicably. This is not always the case; sometimes they view the real world as simply a fake image created by the forest.

This effect has been noted on all explorers of the forest while the trees were present. When they were burnt down the first time, the tower was found and people initially thought a creature called the Piche had lived in there.

Upon examination and seeing no doors or windows, they assumed it was a meaningless structure or some solid block created by Native Americans for worship and left it alone. However, a diary was found next to the building on the next burning down of the forest. The last entry was scribbled in with a dying pen and very frantically written.

"____I've found this building it's ______meters tall and at least two horses in length. It's cold to the touch minus the fact it is ____ degrees outside. (There is a bunch of missing text or text impossible to read due to the dying pen) During the night the tower seems warmer to the touch, like a body is pressed against it. Not only that but, I can hear ______ scratch__________ from the inside."

The diary had no more pages in it. It appeared to be used for years worth of data and movement through the forest with active time checks. The tower was forgotten years later, when the town settled to what it is today. In addition, the Ichor Forest is now off limits.

About ten years ago, the Ichor Forest was put off limits when two teenage boys entered it and never came back. After a year of active searching, most of the search parties disappeared and all further searching was called off.

The town assumed some wild animal or group of people living in there were killing all who enter, for food (because bodies could not be found).

Explanation of the town:

The town of Perch Creek is located on the outskirts of the Ichor Forest. It is 135,000 acres of rich land susceptible to all kind of farming opportunities. It is also one of the few places in America that has all four seasons to the most extreme, ranging from snow to boiling heat.

It is a pleasant vill if there ever was one. There are four houses repeated in four segments - quadrants named by their founder: Geerhall Quadrant, West Hulldran, The Gueniveer Quadrant, and the Idealistic Quadrant. Geerhall and Idealistic are the top left and right, respectively, and line the forest.

The bottom left and right are Hulldran and Gueniveer, respectively. In the center of the four quadrants is a massive man-made lake, used in summer as a swimming hole and winter as an ice skating rink. This is the main point of economy for the town from the population.

A population of 13,465 put this town to the very brink of exploding.

Perch Creek was founded in 1815 by Jorge Hulldran, who came over in a boat from Germany and wanted to start a new life. He founded the town in the midwest by buying it off the Native Americans and ran the town as a place for his family and friends he brought over. This was the first quadrant.

Soon, Jacylin Geerhall bought some land and started the second quadrant. This was the first expansion of many that would later make Perch Creek what it is today.

After a series of deaths in 1895, the US Government took major interest in the town. Ichor Forest seemed to have wolves in it, or possibly Native Americans that wanted to kill the German-borne town. The government inhabited it for the next ten years and didn't find a single thing. It was deemed there was no danger of living in close proximity to the forest, and it was left at that.

The following year, 115 deaths occurred during the winter. It was obvious that the Native Americans could not be involved, due to the degree of cold when it happened. Interest in what was inside the forest took up in the early summer.

Nothing was found in the entire forest, but something was killing people again in the following year. The forest was burned down in 1907 to kill whatever could have done it. At this point, Gueniveer and Idealist bought the two final quadrants.

In 1910, the forest entirely regrew. That winter, 333 deaths occurred in the town, as if something was angry. People began killing pigs every winter and leaving their blood in a bowl on their doorstep. Those who did this were left alive and those who didn't were found dead at the end of every winter. A pattern began to emerge.

Each winter, a blizzard would occur and people would disappear. After the winter was over, a terrible smell would occur in the forest, After following it, one could find every body that had gone missing that winter.

The bodies were laid in some sort of marriage service every year. It was always a newlywed couple, but not always their families. Marriages began to occur outside Perch Creek in fear of being murdered.

A name was given to the creature: the Piche. Pronounced "Pike," it was a mix between Ichor Forest and Perch Creek.

In 1915, pigs' blood stopped working. Now, ashes of the burnt bodies from the previous year were dropped into the pig's blood. The blood was hardened to build the doors of most houses.

Now, the houses seemed to be permanently safe. The same was done to the window frames and some was built into the walls and surrounding dirt to create a sort of forcefield.

In 1920, the blood stopped working again and the killing resumed in ferocity. A personal militia was created to enter the forest and kill the Piche. They were gone for three days. When only two of the fifteen emerged, they had aged a massive ten years and had eaten every ounce of food they had taken.

After this, a rule of thumb began: houses were built without windows and with steel doors that only opened from the inside. This way, the Piche could not see anyone to kill.

In 1923, a man named Oliver Brehl released a book of information on the Piche. Only a few of these books still remain. From what hasn't been smudged over time there are three basic things that can be read:

  1. The Piche does not kill unless you witness it.
  2. The Piche has red eyes.
  3. The Piche only comes out in the cold, becoming more adventurous and ferocious as more snow appears.

In 1945, the town was abanoned when every house burned to the ground. Remains were found of books and records. All information on the town ever existing was kept. However, no information on the Piche was kept.

In modern days, the town has boomed. A massive, four story mall was built in the Gueniveer quadrant and the lake had been built, along with hunting shops and classes for Ichor Forest.

The town also has a massive formation of crystals in a mine in the Idealistic quadrant. Because of that, it has become a popular tourist attraction. The mine goes down at least ten miles. However, because of air and heat, no more attempts to see the end of the tunnel have been conceived.

(This story is credited to a person called Guiv.)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


Robert was convinced that his cat was trying to kill him. After using the litter box, Mr. Cuddles kicks the litter around, leaving a big gaping hole in the middle of the box. Robert was positive that Mr. Cuddles was practicing body burial.

Robert also occassionally woke up on the sofa after his afternoon nap to find Mr. Cuddles kneading about on his body. This, Robert was certain, was not a display of affection, but a clever technique in which Mr. Cuddles very subtlely checked his internal organs for weaknesses. Cuddles seemed to have settled on the pancreas. Robert stopped having afternoon naps.

And so, Robert went through every day and every night in fear that his cat would come out of the darkness and suddenly disembowel him, for some of the cat medicinemen had mysterious powers, and could shapeshift into anything. Robert was also sure that there existed a secret ring of cat terrorists bent on overthrowing humankind via faked cuteness and disarming meows. He dubbed these vile scum as caterrorists. Robert was not good at names.

Robert would have killed Mr. Cuddles himself, if not in fear of the retribution that he would bring unto himself from the crazed cult of caterrorists, who would undoubtedly claw themselves into his house and lay giant rat traps everywhere, which, Robert speculated, they would use out of a love for cruel irony.

He tried to intimidate Mr. Cuddles by goading him into a staring competition, but he always lost. Mr. Cuddles never blinked. Those damned cat eyes, staring straight at him, straight down into his soul! They seemed to know everything about him. They seemed to be taunting him!

Robert took a lot of amphetamines. They not only allowed him to stay awake against the hallowed forces of evil, they also gave unto him knowledge about the cats and their plans. It was as if some higher being was giving him help. He was very, very grateful towards this higher being. He often asked how he could ever repay him. The conversation usually went something like this:

Robert: Oh great, magnificent God of all, however can I repay you?

Higher being: Mo' pills.

Robert: If you do insist, oh divine master.

And so Robert took quite a few pills, secure in the knowledge that if the cat ever enroached upon his personal safety, the higher being would smack it to death, probably with a large baseball bat.

However, one day, the Higher Being dissapeared. Dissipated. Gone! Robert was extremely uneasy. He assumed that the cats had kidnapped the Higher Being using some sort of advanced technology. Coincidentally, slightly before this, he also ran out of pills.

It was no good. Robert was addicted to the amphetamines. He went to his usual dealer, Jacob, down the street, below the great oak tree. Jacob, whilst handing over a bag, asked him what the problem was. "No problem," said Robert. "Well," Jacob said, "your eyes almost look like that of a cat's. And your moustache looks strange, almost as if it's turning into cat whiskers." Robert ran all the way back home.

Robert couldn't find a mirror. The only mirror he had was smashed by Mr. Cuddles a week ago. And even as Robert ran around the house, looking for a mirror, Mr. Cuddles followed him with what appeared to be a ghost of a smirk on his face.

Robert finally found a piece of jagged glass which had fallen off from the smashed mirror. "Yes," he thought as he stared hard at the glass, "those do look like cat eyes. And it looks as if I'm growing whiskers! I'm growing into a cat!"

Suddenly, in the glass flashed the image of Mr. Cuddles. Robert looked behind him and screamed. Mr. Cuddles was right behind him, staring at him, as if saying, "Hahah, you're one of us, you're one of us!"

Robert took the piece of jagged glass and slashed open his own throat.


Mr. Cuddles walked along the street, and went underneath the great oak tree, where he waited for a bit, until a black cat came along.

They both nodded and meowed to each other, conversing for a while, until, seemingly agreeing on something, they parted ways.

Mr. Cuddles went down the street to find a new owner, while the black cat looked around for a while, then, having made sure the street was empty, he closed his eyes and concentrated, causing his features to start morphing.

His posture grew more upright, his fur disappeared, his eyes grew more angular, his nose became more defined, his whiskers shrank inwards. And slowly, his features began to resemble that of a particular drug dealer whose body was found in the gutter a week ago, a man named Jacob. He took a packet of amphetamines out of his pocket and grinned.

(This story is credited to a person called Necronophore.)

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Forest Creature

After the suicide and death of several teens in a small rural town, a diary was found in one of the ransacked homes. The following is a word for word copy of what was written in the diary by Johan Nebra, the final person to die. It is prescribed that, if you have a week mind or stomach, you do not read what is coming up now.

January 1st-
Happy New Year.

January 2nd-
Today is awesome. I'm playing with my new xbox :) Plants vs. Zombies is the shit, just saying.

January 4th-
Forgot to write anything down yesterday, pvz is taking over my life LOL sucks though, because I have school pretty soon. Like, tomorrow, but I don't care, its time to play some more.

January 5th-
School was okay. Most people were just wearing new clothes and shit they got for Christmas. Saw some friends, made out with my girlfriend out back of the school. Her name is Andrea, if I ever have to mention her again.

January 5th-
Hey, another entry, yeah it's late but, I saw something out in the woods. It looked like a wolf or something. I think tomorrow I'm gonna have my buddies come over and we are gonna see what we can do.

January 6th-
Well it was me Steve, Gary and Eric. We all trekked across the property in my backyard (it's pretty big) and reached the lining to the forest. We saw the prints the animal made in the snow and it looked like hand prints. Slightly worried, we all turned back around and came back. Tonight, I stayed up to see if I saw it again. I did, this time it was just pacing left and right by the forest edge.

January 8th-
Today my girlfriend wasn't in school.

January 9th-
Steve was pissed all day, it looks like he hasn't slept in a few days. I remember him being pretty disturbed when we saw those prints. I think it's some sick joke.

January 10th-
There was a blanket of fresh snow on the ground today, a heavy one too, maybe an inch? School was cancelled. I tried to call Andrea from my house phone but the lines are all fucked up on land lines but cell phones work. Andrea doesn't have a cell phone, so it will be some time before I see her again. I hope she is okay.

January 11th-
Didn't sleep at all last night. It's been maybe two days since I've been tired at all.

January 12th-
Steve came over today, extremely furious. He dropped by the house to punch me in the face and almost break my nose. I don't know what the hell is up with that guy, but we are not friends anymore, I don't care.

January 13th-
A video was dropped in my mailbox this morning. I also went to school and Andrea was back, she was a bit on edge but it's her time of the month so I didn't worry about it. I will report back on the video when I watch it.

January 13th-
Okay, what the fuck. The video was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen. It was Steve, standing in the forest, naked, for a half hour. Before finally he lifted his hands and grabbed a pair of pliers. He snipped two frostbitten fingers off and walked to the camera and turned it off. The last frame, he shows where he is and I swear to God I saw that thing in the back.

Andrea was extremely angry today, all day. And Steve was back in school, missing two fingers. I approached him, not even thinking about the video, and he just ran. A couple people I was talking to were telling me that he has been really paranoid.

January 15th-
Okay, I definitely fucking saw it tonight. It was sitting staring off into the distance by the edge of the woods. It was looking the opposite way of my house so I took a picture.

January 15th-
Don't you know, the picture came out foggy and I couldn't make out a goddamn thing.

January 16th-
Steve disappeared again.

January 17th-
Andrea was a total bitch today, she also was convinced I'm cheating on her. Paranoid much?

January 20th-
Andrea left me. 2 years, because she thinks I'm cheating on her. For no reason. She didn't have a reason, she just said I was acting fishy. Even her friends said that I wasn't though and not to worry.

January 21st-
Andrea killed herself. I saw it on the news earlier. She hung herself and wrote a pretty disturbing suicide note and left a picture. The picture was apparently enough to drop a dude into a mental hospital. The note made a few hardened officers quit the force too. I don't know what it said, but its freaky.

January 25th-
Sorry for inconsistency on my updates, but today Steve killed himself. In Chemistry, he swallowed a whole vial if Hydrochloric Acid, downed the thing like a fucking shot.

January 26th-
A huge blizzard crept in. I'm locked into my house and the blizzard cut power to our heater and, well, everything for an undetermined amount of time. Awesome.

January 30th-
Tonight - I will sit up and wait for that thing. I can't get it out of my mind.

January 31st-
Tonight - That thing saw me back.

February 1st-
I'm freaking out. That thing saw me last night, and all we did was stare at each other. We stared straight at each other for about an hour before it left into the forest. Needless to say, I didn't sleep. Today in school sucked, basically all we did was fucking nothing. Two movies and gym, otherwise notes and no talking. The thought of Steve made me wonder why we were in school at all.

February 1st-
Oh right, there was no chemistry now, damn well better not be.

February 2nd-
It hasn't appeared in a while. Nothing is there, like now that it has been noticed, it doesn't want to be seen again, or it has ran. Like a deer in the headlights.

February 3rd-
Nothing again.

February 4th-
There isn't anything out there, not a damn thing. But it is flurrying again. It looks like there is no end to the snow, basically just keeps piling on. It sucks.

February 5th-
Heat came back on, thank god. I lost my right pinky though, completely frozen off. We would go to the doctor but the snow picked up and both the school and the doctor's office are closed.

February 6th-
Nothing out there again. I'm feeling pretty good about it. First time I've seen the sun for about 7 days. It's crazy.

February 7th-
Snow on the roads have been plowed, I took today off school to go into the doctor's office to get my finger removed in surgery. When we got there the doctor looked awfully strange, like he felt uncomfortable working with me, but he cut my finger off for me and wrapped it in a little box. The box is on my top shelf.

February 8th-
Eric came over today. We talked for a while about Steve and what we liked about him, and I asked him when the funeral was being held. Eric looked worried then told me that a break in during the snow caused Steve's body, or what was left of it, had been stolen. I felt sick to my stomach.

February 9th-
Hot water has shut off, I refuse to shower in this cold.

February 10th-
The water heater isn't broken, we have the heater guy out here right now. Nothing, not a damn thing is wrong with the pipes, we just have no hot water.

February 11th-
It's back.

February 12th-
It is sitting there staring at me. I'm looking at it while I write this (I exchange my glances don't get your panties in a twist). I can't tell if it respects me or hates me.

February 13th-
School has been cancelled until further notice because of Steve's death. That's good.

February 14th-
The police are here. There are cars everywhere and we were questioned for about 5 hours. I never saw it myself, but I think I know what happened. From what I heard from the police and from my hysterical mother and father, was that Steve's body was left mangled in front of our door. What the fuck?

February 15th-
I'm so pissed off. All the time, I can't even explain it. I flipped out on Eric today, and he told me I was acting weird. Fuck him.

February 16th-
I punched Eric in the face. Hard. I think I broke his nose. I don't feel bad. He had it coming. I was having a bad day, and he came over to me and annoyed me. He was like "Hey, what's up? You know you are looking bad." WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT!?

February 17th-
If that thing is there tomorrow, like it is tonight, I'm going outside and I'm going to fuck it up. I don't care.

February 18th-
I think Eric wants to get me jumped. He was talking to this guy I've never seen him talk to before. I was worried what was going on because he kept looking at me and he pointed. The other dude looked pissed off. I'm gonna end this tomorrow.

February 18th-
Its about midnight, it wasn't there tonight. Better not be. I hate him. I hate it's glare. It's looking through me.

February 19th-
I broke Eric's right arm today. Let's see that faggot punch me.

February 20th-
It's back. Staring. But, I think it's closer now. Like, it's closer to me. Or the house, but it feels like me.

February 21st-
I'm not cold anymore. Not at all. In fact, I frequently sit outside in a tee shirt now. It's nice. I've lost another finger, but hey, I'm not complaining.

February 23rd-
4th finger down, 6 to go. I don't really mind it too much. I don't care much at all to be honest. I think it's funny that my parents are flipping out. By the way, my parents, I think they want to move me to a different school or something, they keep dropping hints about me not going. Or about other strange things.

February 24th-
I received a letter from Eric. My mom had to open it for me so I could read it because of how many fingers have fallen off. I've lost all my toes now as well, incase you were wondering. The letter said I'm starting to act like Andrea and Steve, and recently Gary. He said I'm unrealistically paranoid and angry. Fuck him, what does he know? I threw the letter out needless to say.

February 26th-
Sorry I missed a day, I was disturbed all day yesterday. I got a letter in my mailbox that was 2 pages. The first page was a bloody hand print and that was all. The second page said "Solar Eclipse".

February 26th-
I think the letter was from that thing. Because I saw it tonight, it was close. Very close. Fuck.

February 27th-
In four minutes, there will be a solar eclipse. I've never seen that thing outside during the day, I wonder if that is why it mentioned it?

February 27th-
One minute, I can see it's eyes inside the forest. It is waiting. Fuck.

February 27th-
I love Andrea. By my count I have 10 seconds until the sun disappears, and each inch of shadow, that thing is drawing closer.

This was the last of the diary that was found. The house was ransacked beyond belief and snow was trodden all through it. The parents seemed to be deceased, however not in quite the way Johan was.

The parents were holding each other, and frozen into ice sculptures (false frozen completely until the blood and skin turns almost to ice, or becomes ice like). They had no emotion, as if it happened instantly.

Johan, he was disemboweled and dragged from his room. You could see his organs strewn across the room and bloody drag marks down the stairs. Whatever was pulling him had only hand prints that it left.

Whatever "it" was, is no longer being looked at by the police and is assumed to be some sort of hoax that eventually led to his unfortunate death.


  1. Impossible report of the shape and size of the creature
  2. Impossible body proportions and limbs
  3. Creature was supposed to have four legs, however drag marks and prints leading out the door indicated four legs being used and a straight drag mark. Police believe it is a man with a dog, because the drag marks had to be made by something with two arms to hold it.

All other information is privatized and the forest has been sealed off limits until further notice.

(This story is credited to a person called Guiv.)

Friday, October 14, 2011

Nanashi no Game

Click this.

Basically, if you haven't heard, Nanashi no Game is a scary DS game. The scariest out there (compared to all other DS games), from what I hear. But it's always been in moonspeak and nobody in English land has been able to enjoy the game. Now it's translated. WOOOOOOOOO!

Go play it and not sleep. DOOOOO ITTTTTTT.

If you don't have a flash card to play this on (this is the generally better way of playing fan-translated games), get the emulator DeSmuME, since the game requires a 90 degree flip of the DS to play half the game.

According to that thread, you'll be needing headphones too. Good luck with that, then.

Yes, I know this is pretty useless post, but I had to tell you guys here since I know a lot of you don't check Twitter.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


"Am I going to die in here, Herbert?"

"Yes, John. You're going to die in here."

"Why, though?"

"Go back to sleep, John."

The loudspeaker made the usual crackling noise before the room fell into a deathly silence. John shivered under the thin blankets provided for him. He was dying. It had been ninety days since he had eaten regular food, six since he was given a pill, and 116 since he last saw a human being. The world felt lonely.

John tried to force his body to sleep, but the hunger won out. He rose from the bed and paced around the tiny twelve-foot cube. He reached one side of the room, checked the tiny drop box, found nothing, and turned around.

When he reached the other side, he would pause and look outside the window, where he could observe the wall of dirt seemingly inches away. It wasn't spectacular by any means, but John found when you got desperate enough, you could see anything you wanted.

Lush, tropical rain forests, busy, vibrant street corners...even your own house. In the end, though, it was just dirt. He might as well be dead already.

Squeaking noises filled the tiny cube as John paced back and forth for what must have been an hour. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he started to feel tired again and his stomach no longer hurt. It just felt like a void, like something was missing inside of him.

He returned to his small bed, where he tossed and turned until falling into an uneasy sleep. There was no such thing as a good sleep here.

Every now and then, John would hear noises. There was a little rattle here, maybe the clanking of metal there, but in the first few weeks, these noises would keep John awake at night in terror. Now, they offered the only sign of life other than the voice from the loudspeaker.

The voice, called Herbert, was there from the beginning. Herbert brought John into this new world and Herbert would be the one to usher him out. Ever since John awoke that first day, dry heaving in a cold sweat, he felt a pull to the voice over the intercom.

"Hello, John. Try not to overexert yourself. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself so soon."

Though the words were cold, John had an almost child-like attachment to them...or at least whoever was speaking them. At the time, it might have been because he thought it was what was going to lead him to freedom.

Now, it was because it was the only thing he had to remind him he wasn't dreaming. This wasn't Hell. This was real and he was alive for every minute of it.

"How was your sleep, John?"


"Good? Care to elaborate?"


"Very monosyllabic today, aren't we?"

"Shut up."

John was upset. He hadn't received his little pill in the drop box. He always found one in the metallic compartment after he slept. It was routine and, now that the routine had been broken, panic had been washing over John all morning.

"What is it, John?"

"I said shut up."

"Is it your ration, John?"

"Where is it?"

"I asked, is it your ration, John?"

"Yes. Where the fuck is it?"

John was on the edge of breaking down. His whole existence was based around this simple routine: sleep, eat, pace, sleep, eat pace, sleep. Now, it was gone, leaving John with nothing.

"Oh, calm down. I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere."

"I'm going to die."

"We're all going to die some day, John."

John tapped on the glass window, nervously. He was anxious. If he didn't get the pill, he would starve for sure. It was the only thing keeping him alive. Thoughts ran through his head, contemplating whey they decided they wanted him dead today. Why they put so much time into this and then decided to starve him.

"Why kill me like this?"

"Kill you, John? I assure you, no one is trying to kill you."

"Then where is the pill?"

A sigh came through the loudspeaker. "You're simply unreasonable right now. I think you need some time to calm down and collect your thoughts."

"Herbert, I swear to god I-"

The loudspeaker crackled and the room was silent once more. John was almost glad Herbert had left so abruptly. He had no idea what he was going to swear to god for; he had nothing to bargain with.

Threats to Herbert only made him laugh, as he found out within the first days. When he talked about suicide, Herbert would only say, "I would rather not deal with a mess today, John."

It was useless. Even if John wanted to kill himself, he had no means to do it. He thought about breaking the window once and trying to use a piece of glass to slit his throat, but Herbert informed him it was made of shatter-proof glass. He was, essentially, death proof.

Hours passed as John checked the drop box for what must have been every other minute, hoping and praying for the little pill to come so he could survive another day, maybe two.

He would have to take breaks every so often. His small chicken legs weren't able to carry the weight of his bone frame. There wasn't much muscle and certainly not any fat left on him. When he did have the energy to walk, his legs wobbled uneasily, like a toddler taking his first steps.

He couldn't remember if he had always been like this or if it was a symptom of the starvation. Regardless, it was a sign of death.

Hungry and mentall exhausted from getting his hopes up with the drop box so much, John went to bed, defeated and scared. For the first time in a while, he was scared of death.

Herbert and John talked about death quite frequently - John's death, in fact. It had always been calm and almost soothing to know he would finally be somewhere else, somewhere outside these walls, but tonight, it was terrifying.

The real feeling of death was slowly creeping up on him. What would it feel like? Where would he go? Would he still be hungry? All these thoughts worked him up until he was sobbing into the small pillow on his bed.

"John?" the intercom crackled.

John sniffled and spat blobs of snot onto the bed, tears dripping down his face.

"John, I know you're not dead. Talk to me, please. I'm sorry about earlier."

John shuffled in bed, not sure what to make of the apology. Apology was a sign of error or weakness; something Herbert had never shown.

"Come on now, John. Don't treat me like this. Am I not good to you?"

"What do you want?" John asked in a shrill voice.

"There's the John I know. Listen, I have a surprise for you."

The voice sounded cheery as it came out of the device on the wall. John looked around the room, scared. He didn't know what this meant. Was the room going to explode into a fiery inferno? Would poisonous gas be released in his room, ending his life? Would he be forced to crawl into a tiny box until he was squeezed into hundreds of tiny pieces? John shuddered and curled into a ball.

"Now, now, John. Don't be shy," chuckled Herbert. "Check your mail box."

John's eyes shifted to the side of the room with the drop box. It looked unchanged. He hadn't heard or seen any movement in the room. Nothing could be in thre.

"Are you always so precautious when receiving gifts?"

John crawled out of bed and hobbled over to the box. He grasped the small handle and pulled it open slow, revealing the small round stick at the bottom. He reached in, half expecting it to bite him, but it didn't.

It remained the small, round stick it had always been. He lifted it into the bright, white room and realization flooded over him. He knew what this was. He had seen a lot of these before. It was a screwdriver.

"Ah, nothing like a good set of tools is there, John?"

"Am I supposed to stab myself?"

"Dear god, boy, don't be absurd!"

John studied the tool. It was small and about as round as a hot dog. The handle was red and shiny, nothing like anything he'd seen in a long time. Above the handle was the flat, metallic top. It was a standard screwdriver.

"Well, John?"

"Well, what?"

"Do I get a 'thank you'?"


"Well I never." Herbert muttered this as the intercom went silent.

John wasn't alone anymore, though. Something felt different. Why would they give him a screwdriver? John was tempted to put it back in the box - it couldn't bring anything but bad - but he couldn't.

He felt connected to it. They were too foreign objects in a place they had no business being and he couldn't abandon it. He knew he would never be alone again. John curled up in bed with his new friend and went to sleep - suspicious, but thankful. It was the best sleep he had since he got there.

John woke up feeling much more refreshed than usual. The deep feeling of emptiness was still present, but it wasn't as prominent as before. John got out of bed, firmly grasping the screwdriver, and walked over to the drop box. He opened it and, to his surprise, he found two pills.

Overjoyed, John quickly grabbed one and wolfed it down in a matter of seconds. Though it had the consistency of chalk, his senses went wild. His stomach felt full again. He was content.

He picked up the second pill and was about to casually pop it in his mouth just as the intercom cracked and Herber's perky voice cried through.

"Morning, John! How was breakfast?"

"Good. Why's there two?"

"Breakfasts? No, no silly. It goes breakfast, then lunch, then dinner."

"Shut up. Why are there two pills?"

"Oh, that! I'm glad you noticed, to be honest. Sometimes, the little things are the most important."

John fidgeted. It was unusual for Herbert t be so casual, but this was two days in a row. Something was going on and it troubled him.


"Well, you made such a fuss about yesterday's pill not being there, we thought we'd give you two!"

"Why?" John asked again, this time a little louder. Now that his stomach was full, he was a little more confident.

"It's only fair, John! We missed a day, so today we had to give you two to make up for it. It's simple, really."

John didn't want to believe him, but everything in his head told him he wasn't lying. He couldn't argue. There wasn't anything to argue. It was simple, like Herbert said; he was just repaying what was owed. It was the right thing to do.

"Thank you."

"Oh, you're very welcome, John. Very, very welcome."

Herbert said this in a flat tone. He was more his regular self, no longer the cheery giver he was a minute ago. John put the extra pill in his pocket. He would save it for an emergency, just in case.

John then took his screwdriver and returned to bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about what would become of him. Would he stay here forever? Had he aged at all? He couldn't remember anything of before he came here. He didn't even know his own name until that first, "Hello, John."

For all he knew, he never had a name. He was just a blip in society who slipped through the cracks. He believed this because he hated the alternative: he had a life, a family and friends.

There were people who have been missing him. They probably would have had a funeral for him by now. No one would still be looking for him. This depressed John greatly, so he went back to thinking he was a nobody.

John lied there some more until he had an idea. He would start his own history and he would record it in his room. He grabbed his screwdriver and pressed it to the bright white walls. He wasn't sure what they were made of, but he prayed they would scratch.

He pushed down with pressure and a horrible screeching noise echoed throughout the room, but there was a small mark where the screwdriver had slid. John could write. He chisled away for a few minutes until he had something he was proud of, right in the center of the wall he had written. "My name is John Nobody."

It wasn't much, but was a start. He wasn't sure to what, but it was definitely a start and John was proud of it. He wished he had someone who could admire it with him, which made him think of Herbert.

He loved Herbert more than he ever had. Herbert had given him the screwdriver and, in essence, his sanity. John, for the first time in weeks, was thinking clearly and rationally. There was more to life than just survival. There was thought, feelings, curiosities. It was wonderful. John wanted to thank Herbert more than anything else.


Cracking. "Yes John?"

"Can I see you?"

"No, John."


"It's against the rules, John. Go to sleep."

John shuffled uneasily in his bed. He wanted to press further, but he didn't want to annoy Herbert. He tried closing his yes, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.


"Yes John?"

"Thank you."

There was an unsettling silence. Something was wrong. Someone must have found Herbert and slit his throat. He was more than likely lying in a pool of his own blood and now John was truly and utterly alone. He would starve without the watchful eyes of Herbert observing and commenting on his daily life. John was something now.

"You're welcome. Go to sleep."

John sighed and sank into the mattress. He could sleep easy knowing Herbert, like a mother caring for her child, was always watching and protecting. John quickly fell asleep, content and full of life. He had everything he would ever need: food, company, even rudimentary entertainment. He was a complete man.

John awoke the next morning and set out to work with his new friend after retrieving and consuming the fresh pill. Through the incessant wailing, scratched marking began making words, which then became a full sentence.

"Days I haven't been dead."

This was written off in the corner. There was ample room left just below this, leaving sapce beside one lone scratch. John decided he might as well have a basic understanding of time. He knew he stayed up roughly the same amount of time every day, so that means he should sleep roughly the same amount of time.

Using that logic, he could make a new tick every time he woke up. He used to count the days in the beginning, by when the pill came, but after a while it seemed pointless. There was no point in knowing how long it took him to die, just that he was going to and it was unavoidable.

John felt different now. He had a small amount of joy in his life and he took pride in his new writings. He had a new appreciation for being alive.

After admiring his work thoughtfully for some time, John gently placed his friend on the bed. He then slowly knelt down to the floor, his legs still a little shaky, and stretched out flat. He started by trying to lift himself up a little bit.

He didn't think his arms would support him but, to his surprise, he managed to do a full push up. Confident, he tried again. However, he only managed half of one before his arms buckled and he smashed his face against the metal floor. A little dazed, he pulled himself back up into the bed. He grabbed his friend and curled in close.

He spent the rest of the day dreaming of the things he could now do. He thought about how he had the means to kill himself now, but quickly perished the thought. There was no way he could kill himself now that he wasn't alone. He couldn't just leave like that.

He decided he would live for as long as possible and continue to write, even if it was only a sentence at a time. He was determined to have something unchangeable and permanent in his life. In the writings, he had that.

Crying. John woke up to the sound of crying. He had no idea what time it was. He thought he might be driming, but the crying continued for several minutes. It was high pitched, yet sounded low and guttural, almost as if the person was being smothered.

Scared, he grabbed his screwdriver. No one was going to hurt his friend. He pressed himself up against the corner of the wall, grasping the weapon in one hand and the other firmly clenched into a fist.

He stayed like this for what seemed like hours until, finally, the crying died out. John was shocked. It was the first thing he had heard that sounded even vaguely human for god knows how long, besides Herbert, of course.

"Oh, John. What are you doing up at such an ungodly hour?"

John jumped at the sudden sound being emitted from the speaker. He eased up once he realized the familiar, calm voice belonged to Herbert.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Excuse me?"

"What was the crying?"

"Crying? I think you're a little tired, John."

"Herbert, please. I-"

The loudspeaker crackled and fizzled out. John was left confused and scared without any sort of explanation. Maybe herbert was right. Maybe John just dreamed the noise. However, he was certain he was awake.

Then he thought it might be Herbert playing a trick on him. John decided this was the most logical answer and the best course of action was to ignore it. There was no point in giving Herbert the satisfaction of seeing John panic over a stupid noise. From now on, John would be unshakeable.

After sleeping for what seemed like only minutes, John got out of the small bed and walked over to the drop box. As expected, a small pill was there, awaiting consumption. John complied to the nonexistent request and ate the pill quickly.

He returned to the bed, where he picked up his friend carefully and went to work on adding another tick. After suffering through the terrible noise, John hopped off the bed and onto the floor.

He felt good and full of energy, so he decided he might as well work out. If he was going to die, he might as well look good. So he did pushups for quite some time, until he got tired and returned to his bed.

He would lie there and twiddle the screwdriver between his thumbs, thinking of new things to write. He could never decide on anything he really had the desire to put down, but it got him thinking. It kept him sane.

More crying in the night. This time it seemed louder, more focused. It was almost like it was calling to John. Determined not to satisfy Herbert in his sick game, John remained still and acted as if he heard nothing.

He just listened to the noise while maintaining his regular sleeping position. He did this until the crying finally died down and John was proud of his accomlishment. Content, he fell back asleep.