Photo reblogged from leave where you came if you can't stomach bullshit with 139 notes
Source: cancercancercancercancer
Photo with 211 notes
A man and woman went to Las Vegas for their honeymoon, and checked into a suite at a hotel. When they got to their room they both detected a bad odor. The husband called down to the front desk and asked to speak to the manager. He explained that the room smelled very bad and they would like another suite. The manager apologized and told the man that they were all booked because of a convention. He offered to send them to a restaurant of their choice for lunch compliments of the hotel and said he was going to send a maid up to their room to clean and to try and get rid of the odor.
After a nice lunch the couple went back to their room. When they walked in they could both still smell the same odor. Again the husband called the front desk and told the manager that the room still smelled really bad. The manager told the man that they would try and find a suite at another hotel. He called every hotel on the strip, but every hotel was sold out because of the convention. The manager told the couple that they couldn’t find them a room anywhere, but they would try and clean the room again. The couple wanted to see the sights and do a little gambling anyway, so they said they would give them two hours to clean and then they would be back.
When the couple had left, the manager and all of housekeeping went to the room to try and find what was making the room smell so bad. They searched the entire room and found nothing, so the maids changed the sheets, changed the towels, took down the curtains and put new ones up, cleaned the carpet and cleaned the suite again using the strongest cleaning products they had. The couple came back two hours later to find the room still had a bad odor. The husband was so angry at this point, he decided to find whatever this smell was himself. So he started tearing the entire suite apart himself.
As he pulled the top mattress off the box spring he found a dead body of a woman.
Source: fyeahcreepyshit
Photo with 84 notes
The Weeping Woman
Submitted by ridgewaves
When I was younger, I moved to Arizona from Ottawa, Ontario. I was new to the desert, the cute tan boys, and most of all, the scary stories that go along with the lonely roads. Being the curious yuong sprite, I bought ‘Weird Arizona’.
I went straight to local legends and did my studying. I read El Chupa Cabra, The Drowned Faeries, and the worst of them all, La Llorona.
My family and I went on a road trip to Tucson from Phoenix. We were driving, the dead of night, when I had to pee really, really bad. We pulled over to the side of the road where there was dense brush. As I got out, along with my flashlight, I could hear the sound of rushng water. A creek, I supposed.
I told my mom I would be past the brush to use the creek as a lavatory. She offered to go with me, but I said I would be alright.
I went past the bushes, scrubs, and trees. As I squatted down, about to pull down my pants, I hear a soft weeping. I looked for my older sister. No where to be found. “Mom,” I called softly. No response. I turned around, looked across the creek. There I saw a shrouded woman, floating above the water. “My children…” Is all I could make ou.t The rest was spanish. I got really freaked out. I knew who it was. She looked up at me.
I think she extended a hand to me. Then I blinked, and she was gone. Suddenly, I got this weird feeling. Like I wanted to jump in the river and never come out. It only lasted a few seconds. I regained my senses and ran back to my car. I was silent the rest of the ride.
To this day, I remember La Lorona, the Weeping Woman.
Source: fyeahcreepyshit
Photo with 82 notes
Submitted by teenylauren
Five generations ago, my ancestors owned a little farmland down in what is now New Mexico and they prospered fairly well due to good soil and enough water and a copious dose of witchcraft. They did this by asking the local brujas to cast over the land and ensure a good crop for the coming year. In return, they would give some of what they grew and made to them for the year. This worked well for a time, until my ancestors got greedy. The land continued to prosper, allowing them to buy more land, but they didn’t want to give the brujas anything more than they already did. After all, they were a God-fearing family, and really shouldn’t even have dealings with the daughters of Satan, as they were called.
The three brujas who had struck the deal were furious with my ancestors and decided that my ancestor would have to be punished. They laid a curse upon the entire family, and all the children of this family, unto Judgement Day.
My ancestor had recently married and they were blessed with a beautiful healthy son. At night, after the boy was born, he started to hear noises coming from the fields, chanting, which caused him to toss and turn at night. He thought it was the wind or the coyotes or even his neighbors, far away, having a raucous party that carried to his land. In the morning, he discovered that his baby was lethargic and slept late into the day before finally eating and perking up to see his mother.
Every night for a week, he heard this chanting, and the baby got worse. He lost the baby fat from his body, becoming gaunt and starved, and nothing the mother or the father or the wetnurse or the doctor from two towns over which they called could do would make him better. They started to panic and my ancestor became enraged.
He gathered his two brothers and had them stay at his house, pistols at the ready, waiting up for the chanting to begin, waiting to find the cause of this madness. Again, the chanting came out, and they all rushed downstairs.
In the courtyard, the three brujas passed the silent baby in a circle, chanting. Shots were fired, and the brujas vanished into the night, and the baby was taken back to the cradle immediately. In the morning, the three brothers went to a wisewoman from the next town and told her the story.
She told them that the only way to protect the baby and keep it alive, as well as protect the rest of the family from retaliation, was to bury seven male puppies alive, all from the same litter, while saying the Lord’s Prayer. However, she said, that it would only last seven generations, and after that, the spell would have to be recast, or the brujas would return with their anger against the family.
My Christian parents told me this story, and were dead serious in saying that my children would have to recast the spell to protect the family, or the brujas would come back after their children and sap away their life.
Source: fyeahcreepyshit
Photo with 68 notes
He always has watched me..
Submitted by classygirlinatrashyworld
When I was little a strange man would stand outside my window and watch me sleep every night. He was not a ghostly entity or anything paranormal he was a flesh and blood pervert. However, the shadow of him will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. The nightmare is always the same no matter where I may be. I start to feel something heavy on my feet then my chest and something pressing my jaw upwards. This is the worst pressure I have ever felt it feels like a huge hand is blocking me from getting air and my teeth are gonna smash into each other. My eyes are forced closed but I always to manage to open then to a small slit. I can always spot him. Hidden away behind some object his thin figure peeks out. He lets out thick stifled laughter and labored breathes while a grin peaks out under long sharp fingers holding a lit cigarette. He just stares at me with wide moist eyes and puffs away. I lay there frozen and terrified. It’s funny how the past holds on to us.
Source: fyeahcreepyshit
Question with 31 notes
thatgapingnoisevoid asked: I wanted to follow this blog, but then I realized I go to school at night and the way back home is really creepy. I also remembered I'm a pussy. Anyways, I just wanted to say this is an awesome blog, it's really cool (but I won't follow)
Photo with 23 notes
Chambers
Submitted by jimmyinfamy
So I’ve submitted my personal ghost stories before but this one is a dream I’ve had. Usually I never remember my dreams because my sleeping pattern is so screwed up. In my dream me and random people from my life were in my house; everything the same except for all the extra doors. Doors everywhere, laid out in a way that didn’t make sense to the house. Then we started to enter them. Some of us seemingly dragged in, others walking in as if entranced. I was one of the few people left and looked to the room that was my grandma’s room before she died. I ran, threw the door open and dived into it. We were all brought there by this huge brute. I can’t describe him just that he was cruel and rough. He was forcing my friends into these glass chambers. The brute explained that when you enter a chamber you experience a new death. Every time you enter it you will feel death in a new way. A boy from my school got to feel what an arrow through the chest is like. A girl I dance with learned how getting torn apart by a shrapnel bomb feels like. After feeling death you’re bathed in blood. I don’t know why but in the dream I couldn’t wait to get into a chamber. I got to experience asphyxiation with barbed wire. I was about to die when I woke up. I chugged in air, terrified by my dream. Then I felt the stickiness of my shirt collar. I have eczema so I’m used to scratching and a little bit of bleeding but there was a decent amount of blood on the collar of my shirt and the scratches on my neck were deeper than I’d ever scratched in my sleep. I don’t know. Just the dream matched with my neck after I woke up scared me. Paranormal or not… I had shivers.
Source: fyeahcreepyshit
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