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ChristmastideThe cottage hearth beams warm and bright,
The candles gaily glow;
The stars emit a kinder light
Above the drifted snow.
Down from the sky a magic steals
To glad the passing year,
And belfries sing with joyous peals,
For Christmastide is here!
Candy Apple Punch
6 cups cranberry-apple drink
3 cups water
15 hard cinnamon candies
1 (6-ounce) can thawed limeade concentrate, undiluted
Combine all the ingredients in a large pitcher. Cover and chill 8 hours or until candies are dissolved. Pour mixture into a large Dutch oven, and cook over medium heat until thoroughly heated
The Creepypast Survival Guide1.Mirrors and darkness don't mix.
2.Actually mirrors are a general "NO", In creepypasta world, there is nothing more sinister.
3.There is zero chance of survival if you look at the thing that no one else can see or answer its question incorrectly.
4.If you are alone at night in a creepy mental institution, take some time to consider what the fuck are you doing there, then, if it is appropriate to do so, leave.
5.Avoid going to places where everyone else who went there never came back or died inexplicably.
6.If someone stops your vehicle at night and asks to come with you, it would probably be in your best interests to politely decline.
7.Killing is the last method of survival, use it sparingly but without fear.
8.WHO WAS PHONE? is always a good thing to ponder. Also who the hell answers a phone while kissing a dead person's sexy daughter. A douche is who.
9.Get a simple .38 revolver. Load it with 2 silver bullets. If you really feel there is no chance to come alive out of a situation,
CreepyPasta- Two years agoYou've been dating your girlfriend almost two years now. You often stay late over the summer and on weekends and arrive home long after the rest of your family go to sleep.
Every night, you drive the deserted rural roads back home from a pleasant evening at her house, but you become overwhelmed by fears that you will arrive home to find your family dead in their beds. Each night, you peek into your sister's room and see she's fine and hear the reassuring rumble of your father's snore as you pass your parents' door.
You chuckle at your silly worries and drift off to sleep. Finally, one morning, you decide to tell your mother about your late-night fears amidst some jovial conversation for a nice laugh. As you tell her, a concerned look comes over her face. She sweeps the hair away from her face as she says,
"Oh honey, you know we were all shot almost two years ago."
You scream as you see the gaping bullet hole in her forehead.
Lost Episode - Boss RossBefore Bob Ross had a career television show, he shot his own home videos from his basement. This was even before he was in the Air Force. His brother, Jim Ross, recovered most of the tapes from Bob's ex-wife's home in 1995 before the fire that burned it down. There was one particular home video that disturbed him greatly, which he describes in the following text.
Most of Bob's tapes were almost generally the same as The Joy of Painting. They were fun to watch as this was an earlier version of his work and he had more of a cartoonish style back then.
I remember the last tape I watched. The video was labeled 'Joy of Painting' so I assumed that's where the title for his show came from. The tape started the same, typical way you'd see on the real show. He was smiling in his basement with a blank canvas and a cart of paints, ready to spill his imagination and make it come to life.
I noticed most of the paints on his palette were of dark reds and blacks; there were no blues, yellows, or any
CreepyPasta- One of ThemAny night, around ten or eleven PM, take yourself to a flat, open area where you can walk in a straight line for two minutes or so without running into anything. Once there, face in the direction you plan to walk, with your arms at your sides and your hands relaxed. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. At precisely 11:09 and 20 seconds, start walking. Be sure to take one step every second - no more, no less. Do not open your eyes, and do not hesitate. Count your steps in your head as you go. On the one hundred and eleventh step, say the word, "One," out loud and stop.
Your breath will catch in your throat and your hair will stand on end. For the next ten seconds, you will be unable to move a single muscle in your body, no matter how hard you try. After these ten seconds, you will be able to move and breathe again - however, you will then start to feel the sensation of cold, metal claws seizing each of your fingers by the base and plucking them clean off of your hand. It will not hur
[Creepypasta] We're expecting.It took us almost two years of trying,two years of waiting, of being let down and two awful years of losing that small ray of hope that was invested in our hearts,waiting to have that little someone that would call me dad and call Michelle, mom. The last time we tried, we were notified that Michelle was not able to conceive a child. I tried so hard to look at the bright side, to cheer her up. But I saw, oh I saw, how the lights faded from her beautiful emerald eyes and how her beautiful smile, it looked so nervous and hopeful, turned into a sorrowful one. She didn't cry, something I expected her to do once she was told.
How I wish that was the reaction she gave, when she was told she wouldn't be able to have children that looked like us. Maybe a beautiful girl with wavy long locks like her mother that would inherit my hazel eyes, or a little boy with her mesmerizing emerald eyes and my ebony hair. None of that would come, it all came down to a silently awkward ride back h
Creepypasta: I Don't Want to be Part of Your WorldCreepypasta: I Don’t Want to be Part of Your World
September 27, 2014
This is Alex Pierce, reporting in his journal on the off chance that this expedition accomplishes anything it was supposed to. Personally, I think this whole thing is a snipe hunt. There’s no way someone could have survived in the Amazon for this long, but reports of a “wild man” in these parts have bolstered the Morrison’s confidence that their son might have survived that plane crash. God, how long ago would that have been? Five, six, maybe seven years? I didn’t read the report, to be honest. Not like I need to. No chance in Hell that he’s anything but a carcass. We’ll go in here, find nothing, report back as such, shatter their hopes and get the remaining half of our payment. All in a day’s work.
There is one interesting thing that bears mentioning though. As the helicopter was touching down I noticed a few contrails of smoke on the horizon, indicating a brush
INFORMATION LEAK~ BRINEARY'S TRUE IDENTITY.INFORMATION LEAK~ BRINEARY'S TRUE IDENTITY.
WHAT IF I TOLD YOU...
This whole entire time, Brineary wasn't originally from Minecraft?
But from an
What I’m saying He’s technically an Alien AI/Entity/poltergeist thing. That Destroys things for the fun of it.
After hiding this since I created ths "Herobrine copy" I finally told you all the truth.
*THE MORE YOU KNOWWWW*
Creepypasta: SombrusThis is a story about two friends. Their names were Ian and Jake. Ian was 25 years old and had red shaggy hair and a few hairs on his chin. Jake was 27 years old, and he had black scraggly hair and wore glasses. They lived near the woods at the bottom south of Australia.
It was a cold, breezy night, and Jake was at Ian’s cabin. While Ian was smoking pot, Jake was looking up creatures from urban legends on his iPhone. He then found out about a creature that he had never heard of. It was called a Sombrus, which was some kind of animal mixed between a canine and a marsupial. “Ian, mate, you gotta see this.” He called over his stoned friend. “What’s up, Jake?” Ian asked. “There’s this monster thing called a Sombrus, which is like, some kind of wild marsupial dog, and it lives in woods, like where we are. Let’s go look for it.” Ian then replied, “You’re pretty crazy, mate. I think I’ll come.” So they packed
Jessie Shorts VI(Obsessions of an Over Achiever)
Jessie sat on Mark’s desk, arms crossed and foot shaking impatiently, more like aggressively,” Dame, how long are you going to stare at that red A?” They were at school in a classroom alone, Mark had the privilege to be allowed to stay in the building after school hours while clubs are going on in other parts of the place.
Mark and Jessie have known each other for only a month. Just with that month Jessie has learned lots of things about Marks life and obsessions. Mark has a goal, it’s to be the top of every class with the word ‘Honors’ or ‘Advanced’ in its name. Chemistry honors, Algebra Honors, English Honors, and so on. He’s been going to school every day when there’s classes, even when he’s sick just so he wouldn’t miss anything important or assignments. But in the beginning of the school year he starte
A Halloween Like None BeforeA Halloween Like None Before
The night of 30 October was scarcely the night that most folk usually celebrated as All Hallows' Eve. Throughout the edge of the town of Salem, Massachusetts, long noted for its former crazed witch hunts and unfounded accusations of black magic. None were ever proven or even investigated.
But despite the shady past in the town, the date in 2013 was more like a new arrival than a revival of old characters. The first upon the scene was a faint, aged and seemingly ruminating figure of a man wearing a high top hat and the dark clothes of mystics and undertakers alike. His gaze was stony and cool, yet indubitably sharp like an eagle. He strolled the back lane of the main road, isolated and unobserved, muttering eldritch words that had no resemblance to any known human tongue. He scanned the doorways and windows of the houses he passed thoroughly. Some windows revealed the glow of electric lights; others revealed the dim glow of a candle.
However, neither a
The Closet Monster Info Dump (1 Year Special)
As many of you know, it is my babies first birthday today! ;v; So you guys get a special information dump on her! ^^
Name: Hailey Nicole Geroto
Creepypasta Name: The Closet Monster
Age: It is unknown, but she claims to be either 14 or 15, but looks ten due to being killed at age ten, her growing halting, being locked in a freeze frame.
Theme Songs: Call me -- Shinedown
Second Chance -- Shinedown
Bio: Originally she had short brown hair, blue eyes, and a blue pendant, but when she was killed by her best friends brother, and his friends, them being a part of a satanic cult, she was labeled as a "Closet Child", children who have been lost in tragic ways, hers being stabbed to death in an old abandoned church. Her looks changed to match those of her 'Master' (The term is lightly used, since she doesn't follow orders, just feeds for him) she gained long, coal black hair, dull, glazed over, greyish pink eyes, and a red pendant. Merlee, her 'Master', took her in, and gave her a second chance.
Am I a Psycho? Why do you scream, it won't do you any good, your legs seem to be broken....
You can't move I see.
Shhhhhh. Hush, or they'll hear you.
Who, you ask?
They will, the voices, they creep through the air, they latch onto your skin.
Do you hear them? I can hear them.
They speak pretty words into my ears. They started out as a small ring, that sharp pitch ring deep in your ears, now, they sound like nails on chalk boards and hushed whispers.
They don't like you.
The fact you can't hear them, it angers them.
I need to help you. You need to hear them too!
I'M NOT CRAZY!
They are there!
But you're looking at me strange, those eyes, don't look at me with those eyes.
I hate those eyes!
Now I don't have to look at those eyes, I like you much better without them, ehehehahahaha!
But you still can't hear!
Let me open your ears, so you can hear them too!
Can you hear them now?
Can you hear them talking, plotting?
You look a bit pale.
The StormThe Storm
That night the seasonal thunderstorm was earlier than recorded for that time; and it lingered longer than usual. Thunder clapped in sundry locations. Lightning flashed with a glow that was, or, to most residents of the town, seemed, untypical of such weather. The roads were not heavily flooded, but the water refused to flow and residents dreaded snakes.
Along the byways, there wears the raucous chirping of crickets and the croak of frogs; but listeners swore that they heard human or alien language. When they reported to the authority concerned, the officer on duty was skeptical. He attributed it to seasonal fear. The date was October 29, only a few nights before Halloween. Nonetheless, the citizens vowed that they heard voices.
"Go home and get some rest," the officer replied calmly.
They walked out and headed for their homes as advised. In the office, the officer and the receptionist chuckled. Then the receptionist said good night
Fact and FancyHow dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind
Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind;
Whose prosy thoughts the joys of life exclude,
And wreck the solace of the poet's mood!
Young Zeno, practis'd in the Stoic's art,
Rejects the language of the glowing heart;
Dissolves sweet Nature to a mess of laws;
Condemns th' effect whilst looking for the cause;
Freezes poor Ovid in an iced review,
And sneers because his fables are untrue!
In search of hope the hopeful zealot goes,
But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!
Stay! Vandal sophist, whose deep lore would blast
The grateful legends of the storied past;
Whose tongue in censure flays th' embellish'd page,
And scorns the comforts of a dreary age:
Wouldst strip the foliage from the vital bough
Till all men grow as wisely dull as thou?
Happy the man whose fresh, untainted eye
Discerns a Pantheon in the spangled sky;
Finds sylphs and dryads in the waving trees,
And spies soft Notus in the southern breeze
For whom the stream a cheering carol s
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More