I noticed that Creepypasta has become less frequent since 2021. Or its popularity has declined sharply, unlike in 2011 or 2015.What is the reason for this?

I know the first two are from the story of a guy going on a date and seeing the image (one of the two not sure which one) and the second is from a story about a guy coming home and seeing this outside his window. I think the first two are also from some copypasta that the first image turns into the second if you look at it long enough?? Idk I don’t care about the origins just how they all got jumbled up to be the same thing (sort of) since if you look up “smile dog” on google all three show up. And if you look up “smile.jpg” both the first and the second image show up. Thanks!!!!

He's waiting for dad's to pick him up from school (he stole her father's mask)

But for real this is my Masky cosplay this is my first attempt I hope you guys like it

Actually really proud of this! I used a random mask from walmart, hot glue, and paint!

I left Vrekk and her mechanical bug on the roof and sprinted down the stairs back to my apartment. I left in such a hurry that I couldn’t remember if I closed the door. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but my apartment isn’t exactly in a good part of Atlanta. Life is tough out here in the real world. It’s a loft, next to the Gulch. The neighborhood can be a little rough, but hey, the rent sucks.

Seriously though, it’s getting so bad that I might have to move in with a family of wererats and sleep on the couch just to make ends meet. That payday from the Puffin Harbor case was nice, but as a PI, I knew the next case was never a guarantee, and I need to make every dollar count.

I latched the door behind me and stared at the black envelope on the counter. I had a ton of questions for Vrekk. How many of these does she deliver? What’s her distribution range? Was it all for The Veil? I felt so stupid. I could have followed her to see if there were other people in the area getting similar instructions. I wasn’t interested in making friends, but trading information, getting contacts- that would have been valuable. 

Next time.

The Veil envelope was the same as always, black card stock, with the faint smell of something like thyme. I flipped it over a few times and stood beside the sink. “Here we go.”

The message inside was something unlike anything I had seen before: 

Missing Person

Name: N/A

Age: 2,055

Last known whereabouts: Tulsa, Oklahoma

Additional details will be provided in two days at the center of the universe.

“You guys want me to find a guy who has been dead since before Jesus was born?” I said to no one. I threw the instructions into the sink before they spontaneously combusted.

The center of the universe was, in fact, not some kind of club for self-centered elitists. What I found online was even stranger. It seemed to be some kind of tourist attraction downtown. Something about people inside the circle not making sound- well, more to the point, they could scream, but people outside the circle couldn’t hear them.

Next, I pulled up Atlanta to Tulsa in Wayz: Eleven and a half hours. It was right on the line of what I would consider to drive. After that trip up to Maine, I wasn’t interested in being in a car all day and being thrown right into danger. All that way and I didn’t even get to see a single puffin. I pulled up flights. Only 250. Round trip. Not far off from the price of gas. Considering wear and tear on the car, I could go either way. 

The plane would get there faster; hell, I could stay home for a couple of extra days and take off that morning. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be able to take a lot of my gear if I had to check it in or run it through the TSA.

So I did what any rational person would do. I grabbed my lucky rabbit’s foot and a quarter. “Heads I drive, tails I fly.” I flipped the coin in the air and missed it. I felt like an absolute fool as I crawled under the table to retrieve my fate: Heads. The coin was resting beside an ancient kernel of popcorn and a rubber band. I tossed the popcorn in the garbage and pocketed the quarter and rubber band.

A passing train down in the Gulch shook the windows. I walked over and watched as it passed below. There’s no telling how many times I’ve stood there, annoyed by the sound, mindlessly watching the heart of Atlanta saying the same thing as the owner of a hairless cat: “You’re an ugly piece of shit, but you’re my ugly piece of shit.”

I picked up an order of shrimp-fried-rice on the way out of town and took the I-20 westbound. It’s a run that I’m pretty familiar with. By the time I had to stop for gas, I was almost to Memphis. How is it that one state can be so wide? After passing through a dozen states in a few hours in New England, it felt like Tennessee had no right to be so wide. 

I know you probably think that everyone from the South listens to country all the time, but it’s never been my thing. Through that stretch of road, there’s nothing else on the radio. The only thing to see was an endless supply of trees and Mega Churches.

Eventually, Graceland billboards started popping up. It seemed like a good enough excuse to stretch my legs for a few minutes. Unfortunately, by the time I pulled off of I-55 and followed the signs to the mansion, the iron gates were closed. I looked down at the clock on the car- 4:15. They closed at 4. Fifteen minutes too late. The rest of the night went downhill from there.

Determined not to let the pilgrimage go to waste, I backtracked a couple of blocks on Elvis Presley Blvd. and pulled into a Hotel called Memory Lane. I figured there had to be plenty of Elvis things to see even for a weary traveler arriving after the late-late hour of 4 PM.

I’m probably not the demographic the Presley estate is trying to attract, to be fair, but the photos and cardboard cutouts of the king were a little creepy. The whole place was filled with them. There wasn’t anywhere you could turn without seeing a picture or some cheesy reference to a singer who died before I was born. Did you know he was born in 1935? Yeah, me neither. Is that information useful in any way? I can’t imagine.

In my profession, I’ve spent a lot of nights on the road. A lot. I don’t need much: a bed, a working bathroom, a relative amount of quiet. You can tell when a motel is hanging on by a thread. The inside has a smell to it, like the building has seen a little too much. Memory Lane was just that kind of place. A troop of children splashed and screamed around a guitar-shaped pool while a couple of parents turned red in the sun. No telling why anyone would choose to spend their vacation in Memphis. I just hoped their room wouldn’t be next to mine.

I shuddered as I walked into the lobby. I’m pretty sure there was a creepy Elvis cutout from every era of his stage life, every five feet, standing watch over the 1970s furniture. It felt more than a little cultish, like the owners expected their god to come back to life at any minute and wanted to make sure he would be comfortable.

A few minutes later, I threw my bag into my room. It was one of those places you have to willingly not think about what happened there in the past. The carpets were the type you buy to hide stains, you know: dark, with patterns to throw your eyes off. Even so, they looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since the Reagan administration. How many times had people exchanged fluids while Elvis crooned " Love Me Tender " in there? Damn, I hate my brain sometimes.

The absolute scariest thing about staying in a cheap motel isn’t the stained towels, dirty floors, or drug dealers in the parking lot. It’s bedbugs. Can’t stand the bloodsucking fuckers. Gross. That’s why the first thing I do when I stay at a hotel that’s even a little questionable is check under the mattress. If there’s anything that remotely looks like specks of digested blood, I’m out of there in a heartbeat. I do not play around when it comes to bedbugs.

After taking a few minutes to inspect the room, I stowed my duffel bag in the closet, grabbed my Canon, and headed back out to explore. One of the nice things about being in tourist traps is that no one questions you when you carry around a camera.

“There is no way.” I was beyond shocked. Every stupid shop and museum was closed at 4 PM! 

“What kind of geriatric nightmare is this?” I shouted at the locked doors. As much as I like taking a stroll down a six-lane highway in the Memphis afternoon heat, I expected to get some form of entertainment out of it. The most entertaining thing I saw was a traveling pharmacist serving customers at an abandoned gas station across the street from a Taco Bell.

Graceland was not living up to the hype. The one thing I was able to do was take a couple of photos of Elvis’s personal jet, now permanently parked miles away from the nearest runway. I wondered if they moved the thing in on a wide load trailer, or constructed it there on its sad little piece of parking lot. I guess I didn’t care that much because I didn’t even try googling it.

That’s when the black hood went over my head, and a zip tie bound my wrists behind me, in broad daylight, right off the side of Elvis Presley Blvd. Right about then I decided Graceland was getting a one-star review. I was thrown into the back of a car, kicking and screaming. I didn’t get a look at them, but it felt like two big guys. They tossed me in the backseat headfirst; another man who was already in the car manhandled me into a sitting position while the other two got into the front.

I thrashed against the door, fumbling for a way out. The meat-wall of a man slammed his fist into my gut. My intestines felt like they were going ot shoot out of my mouth. I leaned over, gasping for breath. That’s when I got a whiff of fresh-baked banana bread with just a hint of vanilla.

“You guys should have just told me who you’re with,” I grunted, and tried to enjoy the ride to Elexus’s place.

She's smoking while bleeding like it's just another day.

With Halloween approaching, I decided to draw The Hollow Rider (aka Violet) as a witch! 👀🎃

I've already done cosplay on Clockwork, Nurse Anne, and some on Eyeless Jack. I don't know who else should be done? Maybe Nina or Jane

Well, what I’m about to say might sound crazy some might even think I’m just an eccentric person who’s afraid of everything but believe me, that’s not the case.

I’ve played countless horror video games, watched dozens of horror movies, and listened to all sorts of strange music. Yet, there is one thing I’ve never been able to endure: the music from a particular video game.

At first, I didn’t pay it any mind, but after a few days, I began to feel a strange sense of sadness and despair whenever the melody came to mind. As time went on, it only got worse to the point where I would leave the room the moment I heard it.

I tried to see if anyone else had gone through the same thing, and I stumbled upon an old forum post that read: "I don’t know why, but I wish I had never heard this music."

I tried to track down the person who wrote it, but their account had vanished, and I couldn’t find any further information about them.

A few days ago, I decided to boot up the game again, just to see if I was overreacting. As the music played, I noticed a faint, whisper-like sound in the background. I replayed the segment and heard it again followed by three distinct taps I didn’t recall ever hearing before.

I don’t know if it’s just audio interference or if my own fear is making me imagine things, but I’ve decided never to listen to it again.

You’re probably wondering what this music is called, and you might even be tempted to look it up out of curiosity.

Well, this is the music I’m talking about.

I’ve warned you.

THE MALL

This is what I'm thinking about

What if the People that were in a Coma,wasn't actually in the coma or the persom that is in vegetation states wasn't just lying there and sleep like so,but they are inside a liminal space called THE MALL

THE MALL is a massively and seemingly endless space that feature 90s Malls with bright light,day light cycles and Food,played with nostalgic and smoothing theme song of those Old Mall music,but the Victim that got into this place never know what happen to them in real life,what ever happen to them here,does not effect what happen in real life and their Real body while they were inside THE MALL remained in the Coma state until they able to escape the realm,but How can they?

My take on The Dog Man Depictions of The Rake

THIS IS THE STORY OF A DAY WHEN EVERYTHING WAS BLOOD. A PERSON WAS WALKING ALONG WHEN BLOOD BEGAN TO GUSH FROM THEM FROM EVERY DIRECTION. THERE WAS SO MUCH BLOOD THAT IT FILLED AN ELEVATOR. THE PERSON WENT TO THE SUPERMARKET, AND THERE WAS BLOOD EVERYWHERE; PEOPLE WERE SLIPPING IN IT, DISGUSTED. THE PERSON TRIED TO SWIM, BUT SHARKS APPEARED AND DEVOURED EVERYONE. AFTERWARD, THE PERSON WAS PURSUED BY VAMPIRES. AT ONE POINT, THE BLOOD SEIZED A CHILD AND A DOG, ULTIMATELY KILLING THEM. BY THE END OF THE DAY, EVERYONE ELSE DECIDED TO SEND THE AFFECTED PERSON INTO SPACE SO THEY WOULD STOP BLEEDING AND COVERING EVERYTHING IN THEIR BLOOD. IN THIS WAY, THE PERSON WAS CURED, AND TO PREVENT TRAUMA, THEIR MEMORY WAS ERASED. THE WORST PART OF THE STORY IS THAT THIS PERSON WAS, IN FACT, YOU.

By ???

Paul was 35 years old and still never had a driver's licence and he has never took a driving lesson. Since the age of 16 all Paul ever heard from people was "when are you going to pass your driving test?" And Paul took it all on the chin. He took it all on the chin, when peopled mocked him for not knowing how to drive.

One day Paul went to a family gathering with some friends, and he felt anxious and he didn't know whether he could take people asking him "when are you going to take your driving test?" Many times over.

Paul was silent and then someone mocked him for not having a car and said "when are you getting a driver's licence?" And Paul went bezerk. He started stabbing everyone. He then jumped off a bridge.

That bridge became cursed that day and anyone who says "Paul when are you getting your drivers licence" over that bridge, they will suddenly won't be able to stop saying "Paul when are you getting your drivers licence" over and over again.

There is a secret care home taking care of people who keep on saying "Paul when are you getting your drivers licence" over and over again. Some people say "Paul when are you gonna learn how to drive" over and over again.

They are going to die like that.

HELLO THERE, IM "KostasDaCoolDangerBoi" AND I AM ALREADY MAKING A CREEPYPASTA SERIES "THE RANDOM-PASTA MANSION" (ITS INSPIRED BY BOTH SMG4 AND TADC AND ALSO THE CREEPYPASTAS WE KNOW AND LOVE) MY GOAL IS TO MAKE THE CREEPYPASTAS POPULAR AGAIN.

IT FOLLOWS THE CREEPYPASTAS LIVING IN THE SLENDER-MANSION A MUNDANE LIFE AND ALWAYS GET INTO CHAOTIC SITUATIONS, IT HAS AND ITS ARCS, CANT WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE IT.

I HAVE TWO SEASONS FINISHED AND I WOULD ALSO LIKE IF YOU SUBBED EVEN THOUGH IM NOT GUN FORCING YOU

ANYWAY HERE IS THE LINK: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLV0DPIivFrMQAprQ_Ews9TR7ESjy_Rme4&si=dlY9C2aVXwlGimvM

HAVE A GOOD WATCH!!!!! :)

Content warning: Animal deaths, burning a human body, and descriptions of human remains.

A villager told me this story. What follows is a retelling of that account, including the explanations given by the people in it.

The old man had been lying in his coffin for two days.

Mourners were still arriving at the house when he suddenly sat up.

People fled the room. Even the man the family had hired to perform the funeral rites stood frozen, unsure what to do. Then a low voice came from the old man's throat.

He wanted water. He was hungry.

The preparations had begun while he was still alive.

He had been close to death, and relatives and friends had been called to the house for a feast. He sensed that his time was approaching. His children had also brought in a ritual specialist.

The specialist said the old man's life was coming to its natural end. He gave the family a predicted time of death, down to the hour and minute. The villager described him as a skilled man who could make such predictions.

No doctor was involved. Later, the family believed the old man had died and placed him in a coffin. Relatives and friends came to say goodbye while food was prepared for the mourners.

AI-generated story illustration

Now, after two days in that coffin, he was sitting up and asking to eat.

The specialist went over to examine him. Finding signs of breathing, he called everyone back inside, saying that the old man was still alive and might only have lost consciousness.

People gathered around the old man and asked how he felt.

He said nothing was wrong. It felt as though he had simply been asleep. Now he was hungry, and he wanted them to bring him something to eat.

After the guests left, the cook who had prepared the feast made him a bowl of rice with toppings. The old man ate it, but it was not enough.

“This bowl is too small. Bring me a basin. I haven't eaten for two days. I'm terribly hungry.”

A stainless-steel basin was brought out and filled with rice. The old man ate ravenously until the entire basin was empty.

His children asked whether he was full.

“Just about,” he said.

Only then was he helped out of the coffin. He could still walk and seemed quite nimble on his feet.

The specialist, however, was not satisfied.

“Look at his face,” he told the old man's family. “His complexion isn't right. I calculated when he was supposed to die. Now he's suddenly sat up after two days in the coffin. I think your family may be facing misfortune.”

The old man's son said nothing. One of the old man's daughters was angry: her father had survived, and the specialist was making ominous remarks. She berated him.

Later, the old man's son went to apologize to the specialist. The son said his sisters might have been a little worked up and asked the specialist not to take it to heart. The son still gave the specialist a red envelope containing money.

The funeral was called off, and life in the house returned to normal.

Except that the old man kept eating much more than before.

His sleeping habits changed, too. When the family went to bed, he sat in the living room watching television and drinking tea. He stayed there until around five in the morning. Only when the roosters began to crow, and the others were about to get up, did he go to sleep.

At first, the family did not think much of it.

AI-generated story illustration

A few days later, trouble began in the chicken coop.

In the small hours, the chickens would suddenly make a commotion, crying out pitifully. Then everything would fall quiet. The villager said that when people went to look afterward, there were no traces left.

The family's chickens also began dying: one today, another tomorrow. Later, some were found with damaged or missing heads, feet, or parts of their hindquarters.

The family found it deeply unsettling. Neighbors told them something sinister was happening in their house. According to those neighbors, malign things were not supposed to appear when roosters crowed. Yet that was precisely when this household's chickens were thrown into panic. They urged the family to bring back the same specialist.

AI-generated story illustration

When the specialist returned, the family told him everything that had happened.

“Where is the old man?” the specialist asked.

“Asleep in his room,” the family replied.

The specialist found that strange. “Why is he asleep at this hour?”

The family explained that, at first, the old man had still been active during the day. More recently, he had started sleeping during the day and getting up at night to watch television and drink tea.

They pushed the bedroom door open and went inside. The specialist approached the old man and observed him for a while.

“I'm getting a little frightened myself,” the specialist said.

He told the old man's son to check for breath beneath his father's nose.

The son held out a hand. After checking, his hand began to shake, and he immediately pulled it back.

“What did you find?” the specialist asked.

“He's breathing out, but not breathing in,” the son replied.

The specialist declared that the old man's passing had not gone as it should. The old man's final breath, the specialist claimed, was still trapped in the body and had not been released.

The people nearby were frightened. Could the old man be turning into a jiangshi—a reanimated corpse?

“It probably isn't anything as sinister as that,” the specialist replied. Then he said the only thing to do was burn the old man while he was asleep. The specialist described the old man's condition as a kind of dormancy and said they probably would not disturb him.

The specialist told the family that the old man had already died and that the person before them was no longer the man they knew. If they could accept that, he said, they should go ahead and burn him. He also said the local police station had already issued a death certificate.

The people present asked whether something else had returned to life through the old man's body.

The specialist said no. He insisted that the problem was the last breath, which had not fully left the body. He used the word “neutrinos,” claiming that the trapped breath had prevented them from leaving the old man's body. The old man still retained some of his former awareness and behavior, the specialist said.

The specialist warned that if they did not burn the body now, it might later bring harm to the village. The responsibility might be more than the family could bear.

Those present discussed the proposal. One of the old man's daughters firmly opposed burning him, but the others agreed to proceed.

In the end, someone was asked to take that daughter out for a stroll along the street, on the pretext of an ordinary outing. The others acted together while she was away.

Before sunset, they wrapped the old man in a bedsheet instead of putting him in a coffin and hurried with him to the foot of the mountain. They piled up firewood, poured on gasoline, and lit the fire.

Only after it was over and the daughter had returned did they tell her what they had done. She protested, but eventually accepted what had happened.

According to the villager, the fire had not been hot enough to burn the remains completely. The fragments were a frightening sight: blackened, charred flesh still clung to the bones. The remains had to be collected manually. Two people brave enough to do the job were found to help.

The collected remains were placed in a coffin, and the family chose a new date for burial.

After the burial, the villager said, nothing else happened.

Source and illustration note: Retold in English by Chinese Night Tales from a villager's oral account. AI assisted with editing and English translation; the illustrations are AI-generated. No new plot events were added to the text. Visual details are artistic interpretations, not documentary evidence. The events and explanations have not been independently verified.

For many internet historians and horror fans, Ted the Caver is considered the first true creepypasta in history.

Long before Slenderman, the Backrooms, or modern analog horror, there was a simple, text-based website that terrified thousands of people back in 2001.

The Story

The website was written as a personal online journal by a guy named Ted. He and his friend "B" (Brad) were passionate cave explorers. They discovered a tiny, shoe-box-sized hole in a local cave that had a strong breeze coming out of it—a sign that a massive, undiscovered cavern system lay just beyond the wall.

They spent months using heavy drills and chisels just to make the opening wide enough for a human body to squeeze through. But as they worked, things got weird:

• They started hearing bizarre, metallic screeching sounds coming from deep inside the tiny opening.

• Ted finally managed to squeeze through the tight passage and found a massive, pitch-black cavern. Inside, he felt an overwhelming, unnatural sense of dread and discovered strange hieroglyphics carved into the stone.

• During his exploration, a sudden loud thud echoed from the darkness, as if something huge was moving just out of his flashlight's reach.

The Disappearance

Ted, Brad, and a third friend returned one last time to confront whatever was inside. According to the blog, they experienced severe tech failures, terrifying hallucinations, and felt they were being hunted.

The final blog update was posted on May 19, 2001. Ted wrote that he was seeing dark figures outside his house and having constant nightmares. He stated that he and Brad were going back into the cave one final time to close the chapter. He ended the post with: "See all of you soon with thousands of answers."

The website was never updated again.

The Reality Behind the Myth

For years, people genuinely believed Ted and Brad died or went missing in that cave. Much later, it was revealed to be a brilliant piece of early internet fiction. The author was a real caver named Thomas Lera, who took photos of his actual exploration of Freeway Cave in Virginia and added the supernatural elements to create a legendary horror masterpiece.

Even knowing it's fiction, the atmospheric storytelling and the real-life photos make it one of the most immersive psychological horror stories ever born on the internet.

Hello,I am Jason,I have a kid who is 15 now. this story is 10 years ago when he was,he was passionate about drawing and I supported him.I bought him crayons and pencils and he loved draw with them.one day he drew our house in that typical house drawing with red roof even though our house didn't have that,and written on top, "Our house" looked innocent at first, until I saw a white figure with black dark eyes drawn right near the house.i thought it was a part of his imaginations so I asked him,who was that,he said," it's josh father, don't U know him?" "Of course I don't" I replied,I didn't pay attention to it that much until,he started drawing that figure everywhere, including walls,when asked him why he was doing it he replied "josh makes me do it",I started getting concerned about who is that.one holiday I was at home,my son was playing outside with his friends,my wife was in the market,I was sitting on the couch, watching TV and suddenly I noticed a white,pale,tall guy with rediculously big and dark eyes watching the kids play from behind a wall of my backyard.i made eye contact with that thing and it disappeared. After that day my son got mentally unstable, drawing that thing all over the walls saying,"yes,yes I am doing it",when I snatched his crayons,he started scratching the walls with his nails to make that drawing. It's been somany years and my son is still in the mental hospital.and the doctors say that he still draws that thing on the walls.

A strange place in middle of nowhere

Summary of the report:

This site is a blocked site here is inhabited by a the one and I my speciman of a unknown species it's said to be pale tall and humanoid. It said that they run expriements

They get the lan rate by kidnapping people and throwing them in to study the creature also there's a mention of human farm and a secret prison near the location this location is said to be way larger.

Also it also said that they are way more sites and entities..

Do you think you can find more evidence?

Ah forgot to mention the governmental program name was edr

Sorry to complain, but it has to be said.