They can’t find the owner of the house
I think i know where they should look..
in keeping with my auditory horror. I’m posting this, and i’m only 2 minutes in.
Listen at least to two minutes.
This is part 1 of a two part song.
The way it cuts off is chilling too.
Another band that does a lot of creepy, unnerving things.
I don’t even know what to call this stuff. I’m not sure it’s music. Auditory horror? The sounds of madness?
Disneyland can wait
maybe one day the world will be disneyland
and visiting hell will be novel again
Was that movement?
Did something uncoil in the corner of your room?
deeeeeellliiiciious
TW: This is creepypasta. Do not read the story below unless you really want to be somewhat disturbed.
Note: This isn’t my writing, I just wanted to share it with my followers.
Do you know what a Cordyceps is? I didn’t either until 20 minutes ago. It’s a family of thousands of different types of fungus, grows all around the word in various rainforests and jungles. The awful thing about them is they’re parasitic, they grow on other animals. An ant happens to run into some spores, and then it starts to colonize his insides, starting with his brain. At some point, the ant starts to act visibly ill; standing in place and shivering, or walking in circles. If a fellow colony member sees him in this condition, he will be dragged to the border of the colony and exiled.Then, when it’s almost over, the ant weakly climbs as high as he can up the vines, and locks his body on tight. Finally, he dies, and the fungus emerges from the back of his head, bursting forth like a long and foul fruit. After a short time, the little stalk spews forth its own spores, leaving the mummified and broken ant clinging to the stalk, his eye cavities filled with drying fungus.
I mention this because last night, when I was up on the roof of my apartment complex, I found my brother’s body. He’s been back from 18 months on duty in the Philippines for less than three days. This was the first I’d seen him. My parents called me up the day before yesterday to tell me that he was on his way up. They told me he’d stayed in his room since he got home, and then suddenly got up and announced he was on his way to see me. They thought he was drunk, I thought he’d never made it.
He must have come straight up to the roof and died, by the smell of it. I was just finishing a cigarette, all torn up with anxiety and head throbbing, and when the acrid smoke vanished I caught a whiff of rot on the hot wind. It took me just a few minutes before I’d found him; face down behind the vents and fans. A slimy gray column rose up obscenely from the base of his skull, and a frozen waterfall of roots and tendrils was dangling from his eye sockets and mouth. At the top of stalk was small arrangement of feathery wisps, a white powder drifting idly from it tips.
The spores must have drifting over the north side of the building all day. My side of the building. I came down to my apartment to try to call up the police, and my headache was rising to a feverish throb. I got through the door, and the moment I reached for the phone, pain flared in my head, so bad I almost passed out. I’ve since tried three times and I can never get my hand up on it.
The same thing happens when I try to get up and leave the room; I feel spines of ice tunneling up into my skull and my limbs lock up and shudder.
The ants, in their last moments crawl as high up the vines as he can climb. This is so the spore will spread over more of the colony below. In the end, the parasite controls the ant with an almost intelligent drive. God help me.
The pain is almost blinding now, and a new thought has been rising up rhythmically in my head, like a record skipping. Up. Up. Up. It’s joined by an image of my office tower. It’s taller than my apartment, the tallest place I can think off and although the bulge on the back of my neck is the size of a peach, the skin stretched shiny, and I’m dizzy and my eyes are cloudy, I think I can make it there. Up.
No. I’m sick. I need help.
The building pulses again in my mind. The cold wind. The roof and the sky. These images and concepts dull the pain momentarily as they pass through my mind. I think I can get there. Up. Up.
If you live in downtown Chicago, I would get the fuck out.
Credited to Josef K.
..Haven’t read pasta that good in a long while.
(via crabkiddd)
Why am I afraid of the dark?
It’s Physics. Bloody quantum mechanics. The act of watching something changes it. Think about that. When we look at the world, we change it.
So what’s happening when we can’t observe? If we can’t see, touch, taste, smell, or hear- Is there anything there? Does the tree exist in a forest, if there’s no one there to observe it? Well, interact with it, at least.
I was drinking while I studied for a physics test, some months back. That was a terrible mistake. In a bit of a stupor, I had a thought: What if there’s something else, something other, behind the universe? Something vast but, without shape or form. Something the size of the universe but by its nature impossible to define. Yet our interactions with the world forced this chaos into shape, into definitions. That if there were nothing to interact with the universe, it wouldn’t exist. Something terrible would be here instead.
What if the universe itself is a prison and we are the guards? Always looking, hearing, and feeling. Defining the universe, we keep the chaos at bay.
Some mythology hints at this. Lucifer cast into the pit. Loki chained underground. Gods of evil, of chaos, bound where the light won’t reach. Outside all possible observation. How many religions claim the world was born out of chaos?
Maybe it’s all just the ramblings of an alcoholic. But I can’t get it out of my head.
And sometimes, in the dark, I can almost hear a sound, like the clink of chains.
Another band that does a lot of creepy, unnerving things.
I don’t even know what to call this stuff. I’m not sure it’s music. Auditory horror? The sounds of madness?
Found on youtube with the caption “Don’t listen to this song. Even if you don’t care about it now, you will later”
If you liked my current 93 links, you may like this as well. It’s mostly instrumental til the middle, but.. a bit disturbing, for sure.
This is lovely.
A couple days ago, I posted a rather creepy poem, “I have a special plan for this world”.
Since then I’ve been looking up the author.
Some of his shorts are online, although far, far too few.
I’d recommend reading this if you like lovecraft.
Although the subject and style don’t have that much in common with the Cthulhu mythos, I think you can enjoy that if you enjoy HPL.
