what did he do?
just go here its a long read but its worth it to know i will ping u threre
hello ^-^ me was sick
hello
1 Like
hru
good u
anyone here
@DreamBeenFound i want to be sapnap my guy
hiiiii
hiii
want a scary story? @MintyMintz
yas
i have been spreading this around so i will just paste it
here you go @MintyMintz
It Lurks Beneath Your Bridges, Too - my first encounter
It was a beautiful, midsummer evening when I first encountered the creature. The grass was green. The twilit sky was alight with divine fire. The people walking through the city streets, and then down the walking trails, seemed happy, content. They smiled at me as they passed with their wives, children, dogs. And despite my inner turmoil, I forced myself to smile back. It is astonishing how much a smile can hide
My grandmother had just passed, and I was walking in an attempt to settle myself. My hope was that a long trek would help me burn off some of my excess energy; my hope was that by exhausting my body, I would dull the knives in my mind. But as I neared the river valley, having walked already for over an hour, I felt no calmer or more in control than when I had when I first left the hospital.
If anything, I felt worse.
Everything around me seemed alien and strange. The lovely green trees looked like overgrown weedsânoxious, greedy, relentlessly choking out their neighbours. The people I saw seemed sometimes like predatory animals, other times like soulless automata. My own body felt like it belonged to someone else. I could move it and look through its eyes, of course; but it did not belong to me.
The whole world felt like an uncanny dream, insubstantial and slightly perverse.
This waking nightmare of alienation only got worse as I drew closer to the valley. When I finally arrived and peered down the craggy slopes at the wide river, whose dark waters slithered slowly forward like an ancient and titanic snake, my mind was on fire and my body was numb. I was a walking panic attack.
I briefly considered clambering down the steep bank to work up a sweat. Surely that would tether my mind and body together again. Surely that would brighten the dark thoughts that raced incessantly through my mind. But the sun was near setting and I did not want to be lost in the valley when the last lights of day disappeared. So I scanned for a new destination, spotted the old bridge that straddles the valley, and set off.
Many cities have a notorious bridge. The one that spans a chasm or river or underpass at a precipitous height. The one about which legends emerge and circulate, because of all the jumpers. Some speak of hauntings and curses. Others, more pragmatically, talk about brain chemistry and the accessibility of the locale. Most choose not to say anything at all; they pretend no problem exists. The tragedy is that those who know the truth often fall prey before they can pass on their knowledge; either that, or they are shamed into silence by people unwilling or unable to understand.
As soon as I set foot on the old bridge, our cityâs primary platform for desperate jumpers, I heard it. A gentle hum, so slight as to be almost imperceptible. I sensed it was coming from before me and below me; it grew slightly louder with every step I took. It was definitely coming from the river. Yet I also felt as if it were coming from a place below the river, beyond the river, almost from a place beyond time and being.
The hum was dark and low, hopeless and inhuman. It was also hypnotic and soothing; it gave me a peculiar feeling of dangerous calm, like the feeling of taking a strong sedative while inside the cabin of a sinking ship.
As I walked along the bridge, listening to the hum, settling into the feeling, I noticed the last embers of daylight die. The stars winked through the darkening firmament. The hum seemed at one with the approaching night.
I paused where the sound was loudest, in the middle of the bridge. I leaned over the handrail and squinted at the dark waters, hundreds of feet below, trying to locate the source of the sound in the serpentine river of shadows.
Thatâs when I saw it for the first time.
Giant lidless eyes bulged above the surface of the water. They were glowing white spheres with a webbing of thin red veins. No pupils or irises. Blank and uncanny. Like the eyes of those creatures who descended from the sunlit realms into chasms and caves, millions of years ago, and evolved over time beyond the need for sight, but kept their useless, vestigial eyes. I knew in an instant that the eyes could not see me. I knew that the creature was blind. And I also knew that the horrible gape below its eyes, a wide, grotesque mouth, opening onto a void blacker than black, was the source of the strange hum.
I was mesmerized by the abominable entity, its glowing white eyes, its chapped lips and leathery skin, the unworldly sound that came from the abyssal void of its gullet. I strained my ears to hear clearer. I leaned over the handrail to get a better look at the blind and bloodshot orbs. I felt like I was gazing upon some dark and forbidden love. Like I was on the cusp of sating some deep and mysterious desire.
If only I could be closer.
The creature drew me closer.
The hum seemed to hold answers to all of my questions. The eyes seemed to promise me unlimited comfort and peace. Yet I knew that I would never be granted those answers or promises from all the way up on the bridge. . .The only way to reach fulfillment and truth was to jump into the creatureâs maw.
It would be quick and painless. Then it would be lovely. I would join the creature in the calm of eternal silence, together with the void and the hum, in the loving embrace of eternal night. . .
A jolt of anxiety shot through me like lightning. Those thoughts were not mine. They were coming from the outside. Somehow, the creature was invading my mind, infiltrating my soul and turning me against myself. Was it the stare or the hum or the mere proximity of the creature? I could not decide. But I also could not stop listening, nor could I peel my eyes away. I could not move as I felt the creatureâs dark tendrils worming into my brain, insinuating themselves alongside my neurons, tainting my senses and thoughts, taking control.
My true body was frozen in place as I watched a reel of hallucinations projected before my eyes: I saw my body carefully climb over the railing, balance on the edge, and then hop off, into the night; I saw my body sway violently back and forth until it launched headlong off the bridge; I saw my body turn and look at me with blank white eyes, a mischievous smile, before lifting a leg up over the railing, then the other, and then letting go, falling backwards off the bridge and down, toward the gaping maw and oblivion.
I was so caught up in these intrusive and loathsome visions that I did not notice the man who had crept up beside me. I did not hear him climb up onto the roof of the bridge, nor did I hear him shuffle around above me and sigh. I was shocked, then, to see him suddenly fall into my field of vision, as if he had slipped through a tear in the fabric of night. I watched him plummet toward the creatureâs yawn, his arms outspread, silent save for his loose suit jacket flapping behind him.
On instinct I turned and sprinted to the end of the bridge, onto the street.
The night was quiet. The hum had stopped. All I could hear was my hammering heart. Yet wherever I looked, I could still see the blank and pitiless eyes gazing back at me. And I could still feel the dark and alien tendrils squirming in my brain, sending out roots, settling in.
god dam
1 Like
sorry for the langauge
its fine i am not bad but if bad saw that you would die
yea tru tho
earlier my Spanish teacher said what are you on? then continued with the lesson
1 Like
what grade are you in