Call Me Dad:
Seriously, fucking stop it.
I woke up this morning screaming. Fucking shit, the more I think about it, the more it feels real. The video posted a few pages back with the “Audio removed” and stuff made me genuinely frightened.
My house is on the ass end of a small stretch of woods. I don’t ever want to go explore it anymore then I already have.
njbeachbum:
You don’t have to go to the woods. He will come to you now that you are thinking about him…
Sire Oblivion:
Just as Call Me Dad said, the more you think about him the more real it feels.
njbeachbum:
The more you think about him, the more real he becomes…
Mr. Gibbycrumbles:
The more real he becomes, the more you think about him…
Error 404:
until one night, you find a small piece of a loved one on your window sill…
Mooseyfate:
as if to say “get out while you can”…
Millard Fillmore:
But the road is fogged over and your headlights just can’t quite cut through it…
Error 404:
and the talk radio that you play just to hear another person’s voice has started to spit and squeal…
Millard Fillmore:
and the audio begins to cut out and distort as the fog becomes ever thicker…
Error 404:
as you creep along in the intense fog, the static on the radio crackles just enough that you may have just heard a single word, sooon…
Sire Oblivion:
Then a crackling breathing is heard coming through the car speakers. You flick the switch but it grows louder and encompasses you and comes from everywhere. Then it slowly dies down and begins to pinpoint itself… away from the speakers.
You realize it’s coming from the back seat.
Call Me Dad:
It happened again.
I was driving home from my friends house last night out in the middle of nowhere. She lives right in the middle of the woods and her house has always scared me. I’ve always associated it with fear, which is no good cause it’s my best friend’s girlfriend’s house. We go there a lot and just watch movies and hang. Anyway, I’m rambling.
The whole time I find it really hard to relax, really hard to just chill the hell out since I’m still a little shaken by the dream I had the other night where I woke up screaming. I’m typically the one who provides a lot of the laughs and conversation when I hang out with this group of friends, so they could all tell something was off about me.
Back to where I started: I was driving home from her house. I’m driving as fast as I can to get out of this area of my little town. I wanna get home, and go to bed as fast I can. I finally get out of the woods and into a school zone about half a mile away from downtown a little after midnight. I stop at a stop sign/intersection/crosswalk/whatever the fuck you wanna call it because I have to, and because there is a man that needs to cross the street.
This is a very tall (6'5"?), skinny (150 pounds?) man wearing a very formal business suit.
I’m scared as all hell. I can’t concentrate, my mouth goes dry and just about lose it. First of all, this scenario makes no sense: I live in a town with a little over 20,000 people in it. It’s midnight, and Portland is about 20 minutes from here. There are no jobs in this town that require such a suave looking ensemble.
Look what you’ve done, SomethingAwful. Fuck you.
njbeachbum:
We didn’t do anything. He has always been in your town, always been a part of your life, you just hadn’t opened your eyes yet. He will open them for you and allow you to see things that you could never see before.
kizeesh:
Because in seeing him, you have allowed him to see you and to find you.
You can’t hide because he can see you. He can always see you now, even if you are reading this, he can see us.
He can see us right now.
Mr. Gibbycrumbles:
And in time, you will learn that you no longer need eyes to see your way in the journey that he will offer you.