My Diary- Gaia.

Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:29

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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:30

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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:32

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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:35

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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:46

Next: More spooky stories! Yayay :lol:
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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 22:49

(Continued) Scary Stories

The Cell Phone

A couple of months ago, my friend’s cousin (a single mother) bought a new cell phone. After a long day of work, she came home, placed her phone on the counter, and went watch to TV; her son came to her and asked if he could play with her new phone. She told him not to call anyone or mess with text messages, and he agreed.

At around 11:20, she was drowsy, so she decided to tuck her son in and go to bed. She walked to his room and saw that he wasn’t there. She then ran over to her room to find him sleeping on her bed with the phone in his hand.

Relieved, she picked her phone back up from his hand to inspect it. Browsing through it, she noticed only minor changes such as a new background, banner, etc., but then she opened up her saved pictures. She began deleting the pictures he had taken, until only one new picture remained.

When she first saw it, she was in disbelief. It was her son sleeping on her bed, but the picture was taken by someone else above him... and it showed the left half of an elderly woman’s face.
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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 23:02

(Continued) Scary Stories


The Whispers

This is a story I do not often tell. I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they remain unsatisfactory.

When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night for me to wake up and hear “whispers” as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they were just “bumps in the night” and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people’s voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these “whispers” that I would sleep in my mom’s bed with her. It was an added bonus that the bathroom was directly outside of her bedroom door for my late-night tinkles.

I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom’s bedroom was on the second floor). On one such night, around Christmas, I awoke and felt the need to relieve myself. I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase “Look!” and to my astonishment, a red light, almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.

Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Christmas, I KNEW what this light was. IT WAS SANTA!!! How else could he get into my house to know I was being a good boy? I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.

That’s when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father’s (not to say he isn’t masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, “Stop! Right now. Go back up those stairs.” I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH that sent me running back to my mother’s bed where I jumped straight under the covers and stayed there the whole night.

When we awoke the next morning, the poinsettia lights (little Christmas flower lights that glowed red) my mother had put on the railing down the stairs were pulled straight down to the bottom of the stairs, some broken from what seemed like a forceful tear, laying in a single pile. The dry sink in my living room had fallen from the wall. My mother could not explain it! My father was worried we had been the victims of a home invasion. My sister was crying. There was nothing missing, nobody had broken in, there did not seem to be any reason this had happened. And then I saw it, and I kept quiet about it because I was so afraid that I could not force words out of my mouth.

There, on the edge of the wooden dry sink which had been facing up, were three indentations where the finish on the wood had been worn, almost as if in a forceful grip. Something down there had GRABBED IT AND THREW IT DOWN. That was what the bang was.

I was mortified. After that day I never heard a single voice again. I do not like to imagine what was waiting downstairs for me that night, if it was anything at all, but I can tell you that the reality was that something had physically acted upon two things in my house near the bottom of that stairwell.

After this, I had never heard another whisper again. Which is sad, because in some ways I would have liked to thank the man (masculine energy?) that had stopped me from going down those stairs. This happened when I was 7. I am 20 years old now, and because of this incident I am still afraid of the dark. ESPECIALLY shadowy stairwells.
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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 23:05

(Continued) Scary Stories

The Grandfather

My grandfather told me this story about how one time he was sitting in a chair in front of the house, when he heard his wife repeatedly calling him from inside the house. The thing is, my grandmother passed away a few years before that. But he told me that the voice was so pressing that he actually got up to look inside the house, and as soon as he got inside he heard a loud crash behind him and turned around to see that the chair he has been sitting in moments ago had been crushed by the cast iron gutter that fell on it. If he hadn’t come inside the house he would have probably been seriously injured. I don’t know if it’s paranormal or not, but every time I think about it it sends chills down my spine.
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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 23:09

(Continued) Scary Stories

The Crib Shadow

I was babysitting my niece once while I was staying at my brother’s place, and they had the baby camera setup so I could see her on the little TV it came with. I was studying and started dozing off when I heard some whispering and realized it was coming from the monitor.

I initially thought it was some feedback or something, but when I looked at the TV there was a dark shadow near my niece’s crib. I have never been more terrified in my life, but the shadow was clearly there where it had not been before. I ran to my niece’s room and looked around and saw nothing, but I took her the hell out of there. I went back to the TV, and the shadow was clearly gone.

I told my brother what happened and he pulled me aside and told me not to mention it to my sister-in-law because she’ll freak out, but that he had seen that same thing several times now, with the same whispering.

They stayed in that house for about four more years and when my niece was just learning to talk she would tell her mom about her ‘special friend.’ To this day, it scares the heck out of me. When they moved out, my brother told me my niece had become inconsolably sad because she would miss her ‘friend.’ Her mom would tell her she could bring him along but all she would say was that he couldn’t leave the house. We have never to this day told her about that damn shadow, and she apparently never saw it.
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Re: My Diary- Gaia.

Postby Gaia » 19 Jul 2018, 23:20

(Continued) Scary Stories

The Princess

How did The Princess take control of our message board, if only for a few seconds? It didn’t make any sense. Our message board wasn’t a video game. Our message board pulled all its information from the Internet. The Princess was already inhabiting a game at the same time. All the rules we thought we knew, all the things we thought kept us safe had failed us. Could she have done this at any time? Could she do it again? Were there any real limits to what she was capable of?

We looked through all the data we’d collected. We tried to find some common thread we’d been missing. There must have been some way we could have known. There had to be more answers than what we were seeing. And there were.

We finally realized the truth. It was so obvious. The Princess had been in our message board the whole time. She was on every page. She was on every forum list. She’d been staring at us, watching us for years and we never even saw it. She was the banner at the top of the forum. She was every screenshot we’d posted, every video we’d uploaded and every piece of fan art we’d drawn.

Every image of her is her. Every image of her, when observed, gives her power. She’s not a ghost. She’s not a computer virus. She’s an idea. “Living fiction.” She lives off our observation and thoughts of her. When we all watched that stream, banded together and gave her all of our attention all at once, we made her more powerful than she’d ever been before. We made her strong enough to manifest through the images we’d posted on our message board and speak directly to us.

We took down all the images. From what we speculate, it’s enough to simply never look at them again, but we deleted them all just to be certain. However, it may already be too late for us. I’ve been losing contact with other members of the society. I can’t tell if something’s happened to them or if they’ve simply gone into hiding, but at this point only a fool wouldn’t consider the worst-case scenario.

I’m not completely heartless. I know she’s fighting for her survival, now. For her, being forgotten is death. She does what she does in the hopes of keeping her memory alive. To that end, perhaps my telling her story to the world is a small act of mercy. Maybe the thoughts I’ve lent her will ease her pain somewhat. I don’t know, but either way that isn’t why I wrote all this.

What I’ve told you could put you in great danger, but it could also save your life. You’re a target now, and in the months and years ahead she may well come for you, but I’ve also given you all the knowledge you need to keep yourself safe.

Do not try to fight her.

Do not try to talk to her.

Do not try to outsmart or trap her.

Don’t investigate.

Don’t try to understand.

Don’t try to be a hero.

Don’t try to be her savior.

It is my sincere hope that I’ve given you all the answers you want, so you won’t make our mistake and try to investigate further. There is one and only one thing you need to do to be safe:

IF YOU SEE HER, TURN OFF THE GAME!
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