These are creepy stories I wrote for people into that sort of thing to copy and paste wherever they like. if you want to copy and paste this creepypasta, double-click a story to select it.
Sometime in the mid 1980's, all the hot sauce packets from a Taco Bell location in Saginaw, Michigan started being found filled with blood. The blood was never identified, and no known samples still exist from the restaurant. The location closed fairly shortly after the incidents started and no investigation or DNA testing was ever done, but a couple of the former employees remember a coworker that practiced Satanism being fired around the same time the blood-filled packets began to appear.
At an interstate highway rest area just west of Holland, Michigan, there's an old vending machine filled with an assortment of random, off-brand/no-name snack items, and with bars over the front window. It's not plugged into any power source and doesn't appear to have been used in ages, despite the apparent freshness of the treats inside.
For some reason, though, those with the unfortunate birthday of February 12th seem drawn to the vending machine when near. They always seem to try to break into the machine through the front window - often severely injuring their hands on the front bars and thick plexiglass window. Most give up after being dragged away by loved ones, but an unfortunate few have been found by state troopers with severe injuries and blood loss after their futile, crazed attempts.
Once each year, a city bus will appear somewhere in Grand Rapids, Michigan at 3:33 AM displaying garbled nonsense on the route displays. When the doors to the bus open, no driver appears to be on board and the voiceover system announces "This is route three three three".
Nobody I know has ever boarded the bus, but there are rumors of friends of friends who knew someone that did - and hasn't been seen since.
In the mid-1990s, a series of defective voice chips turned up in plush toys from the carnival-type games at Michigan's Adventure near Muskegon, Michigan. Upon hearing the garbled, Satanic-sounding noises emitting from the toys, children up to age 12 would often experience nose bleeds and their eyes started tearing up. Park representatives have since recalled and taken back all of the affected toys, which have been destroyed.
My friend Adam lives out in the suburbs of the town I'm from, and we'd hang out with a few other friends and play video games and cards on occasion.
Once, while using the restroom there, I heard leaves rustling outside and saw the bushes move. The warped glass didn't let me see much, so I shrugged it off and mentioned it to Adam after I finished up.
"It's probably my short Mexican neighbors," he said. "They're always goofing around outside and they sometime come into our yard a bit." But when we looked outside, all we saw were a couple of creepy but normal looking garden gnomes out there.
Since then Adam hasn't seen his neighbors in person - only noticing their car gone or back again, lights on, lights off. And those gnomes... never in the same spot when he sees them.
There is a dollar store in West Virginia that sells mostly worthless junk - much of it actually worth less than typically dollar store fare. However, one of the items in the store is supposedly worth $26,438 at last check - but the original owner who thought up this game died in 1994. His wife subsequently sold the store to the current owners. To this day none of them know which item is the one worth the ungodly amount of money or if it is still in the store at all.
Few people know about this, and those that do always try to buy tons of merchandise hoping that one day something they buy will be appraised and be worth thousands of dollars.
It's suspected that, as always happens in these cases, the item will be bought by someone who does not know the story and simply decides on a whim to buy it and take it home.
In 1957, construction crews repairing a set of bridges in North Dakota found a stretch of highway completely drenched in blood. Off the side of the road, the body parts of a young man in his late 20s were found littering the plains, some up to 20 yards away from the road. All of the body parts were accompanied by copies bloody tire marks and strewn dirt. None of the victim's fingerprints or any other identifying features could be found.
Due to bridge outages, it took more than 3 weeks for officials to make it to the scene and gather proper evidence. What they found was completely baffling. Not only was the particular stretch of road was inaccessible due to bridge outages from flooding, but the area was surrounded by dense forest - impassible with a car or truck. To this day, no one knows the victim or his murderer, nor how either came to that stretch of road or how the murderer departed.
There's a coffee shop in St. Charles, Minnesota with a nice friendly atmosphere, free wifi... you can even watch the beans being roasted through a window near the back of the store.
Around the back side of the store there's a small opening for a basement, but it's locked. The previous owner had it unlocked and tried to go down into the darkness to investigate, but was never heard from again. It's been locked ever since.
A friend of mine lives in Chicago, and on a recent road trip to attend a wedding, I spent the night at his place. That evening we went out around his neighborhood and looked for a good place to eat. He picked a restaurant he'd never been to before - a new experience for both of us.
It was a dive with a walk-up counter and a few indoor seats - other patrons drifted out and ate while walking or sat at bus stops or on the curb. Everyone was eating the same thing - an unidentifiable meat in a steamy tortilla wrapped in tin foil. Something about the meat was odd, but we gave it a shot.
Halfway through his burrito, my friend bit down on something hard. He looked at the jagged, bit off end of his dinner and pulled out the offending piece of metal. It looked like a surgical hook of some sort. Going back into the restaurant, my friend and I tried bringing it to the attention of the cooks, but none of the staff could speak English. Dejected and disgusted, we threw away the rest of our burritos and headed elsewhere.
On the way out, we couldn't help but notice an ambulance parked in the alley behind the restaurant. It's back doors open, the inside dark and empty.
If traveling through the tip of the thumb of Michigan on a night with a full moon, stop at McGraw County Park. The gate will be closed but you can park in front of it. Bring a set of black clothes and change in the change rooms.
When you come out, there will be an old man with olive colored skin and curly dark brown hair and a mustache selling hot dogs in a cart. If you order one, the man will thank you for your patronage and apologize for your loss saying "I'm sure the wake will be nice." One of your relatives - not necessarily someone close but still someone you know - will have been murdered that night.
Be sure to change back into your other set of clothes, because if you drive away while still dressed in the black clothes you'll be pulled over by state police and arrested for the murder of your family member and the clothes will be covered in their blood.
Somewhere out in the middle of Kansas where there's little else but a stretch of lonesome road, there's a cell phone tower about 24 feet from the road. You can get great reception from this tower if you're near it. 5 bars of signal and all that. Call anyone you like - you'll hear them loud and clear (assuming they have good reception too).
Call anyone but 911. They won't be able to triangulate where you are based on the tower signals. Why?
Because the cell phone tower doesn't officially exist. It's not in any computer system or on any maps. There are no records of it connecting with any current phone systems. No phone company, person, or agency admits to placing it there, and it isn't connected to any visible cables for data transmission or satellite dish access or electricity. It's just a tower that sits there relaying your calls.
Up around the northwestern bit of Michigan's lower peninsula, they tell folks not to go into the waters of Lake Michigan after sunset. They tell you this for good reason. Not because it's dark, either.
It's actually bright. Brighter than the 4th of July fireworks some nights. It's whatever is controlling those lights that you have to watch out for.
There's a diner in Independence, KY that has used the same menus for nearly 70 years. The menus have been updated to include many new dishes and accommodate new prices, but on the last page remains a remnant of the original menu - the chicken stew.
Every attempt at removing the item or changing its price (30 cents a bowl) has failed.
No one at the diner knows how to prepare the dish - which isn't necessary anyway. Anyone who attempts to order the dish inexplicably starts to faint midway through the sentence.
When awakened hours later, the victim feels no ill side effects - except he/she squawks like a chicken and coughs up a single white feather before resuming normal speech.
The feathers are unremarkable and the diner now keeps them if visitors don't want them - there's a wall literally covered in them and is truly a sight to behold.
Ever wonder why some pencils roll off the table faster or more often than others?
Some of the trees in South American rain forests are actually intelligent beings capable of speech and limited movement. Loggers typically wear headgear that blocks out loud noises like that of chainsaws and such, so they don't notice the screams of the trees as they are cut down.
Some products made from these trees are more prone to accidents than others - possibly the trees trying to get revenge from beyond the grave or trying to get back home.
It is thought that about 426 of these trees remain today.
There's a small motel just outside of Las Vegas, Nevada that has 26 rooms with cable and HBO, faded wallpaper, 70's era fixtures, and a pool.
The pool is empty, but every year on the night of August 31st, you can hear splashing coming from the pool area if your window is open. But if you look outside, nothing will be there - no water, no people, no nothing.
Once on a trip to southern Ohio in the late evening with two friends, we passed under an old rail bridge. After passing through the bridge, we kept seeing familiar looking monuments and landmarks and scenery. Eventually we came to a town - the same one we had passed hours ago on the way to the bridge. Somehow we ended up going into and out of the same side of the bridge despite not turning around.
According to locals it happens a lot to outsiders and the road beyond the bridge is haunted. We took an alternate route and found a nice hotel for the night.
That night everything felt kind of weird. We all felt somehow backwards from going through the tunnel and coming out the wrong side. After not being able to sleep all night, we decided to go back and try driving through again.
Upon again exiting the wrong side, we finally felt right again for a few brief seconds, until in the rear view mirror I saw a cloaked figure with pale gray skin and big black eyes standing on the bridge.
We drove away as fast as we could and vowed not to return.
A few weeks later after we'd settled back down back home, I logged onto my bank's website to check my account and pay my bills.
There had been a warning on my account about a possible fraud charge. I took a look at the charge, and couldn't believe my eyes. The motel we stayed at was listed on the bill, but the name of it was spelled completely backwards! My stomach churned as I read it again - I rubbed my eyes at least twice just to be sure.
To make things worse, the check image the bank had uploaded was not a scan of a check at all.
It was a photo.
A photo of a cloaked gray being with big black eyes.
Two days later my bank inexplicably removed all traces of the deemed fraudulent charges. All attempts to investigate further into the situation result in bank representatives denying any existence of the charges at any point in time and hanging up on me.
In the tourist town of Frankenmuth, Michigan, there's a little girl who has been seen by various restaurant and shop staff every day for as long as anyone can remember. Her attire is that of a typical youth from the 1950's. Each day she greets various staff, but says "Help, I can't find my parents!" Most of the staff, a bunch college students hired from around the area as temporary summer employees, help her by calling their company's security or finding another staff member for help, and by the time they look back the girl is gone, occasionally catching a glimpse of her running off before getting lost in a crowd.
Save for the savvy few who stick around long enough to know better, most try to help the girl. But there are a few who have actually gone with her outside to look for her parents. Those employees are typically found the next morning, drowned in the fountain at the center of town.
In northern Colorado there's a Chinese restaurant that serves only Chinese food. Cause you know - a lot of Chinese buffets have American food for little kids and crap. But I digress. This place serves only Chinese food.
One day some college kids were there and when asked what they wanted to eat, one of the guys jokingly said he wanted a pizza. Everyone laughed except the impatient waitress, but he ordered something off the regular menu and the friends waited for their food.
When she came back with the first two plates of food, the guy joked around again and said "Hey, where's my pizza?" The woman looked irritated and walked off.
When the second two plates of food were delivered, the guy was about to start his meal but again decided to ask "When is my pizza gonna be ready?" The waitress stormed off and returned 2 minutes later with a large pepperoni pizza covered in thick gooey cheese and rich tomato sauce.
The guy stared in disbelief and then thanked the waitress. As his friends giggled at him he reached cautiously for the pizza. He ended up eating the pizza - his friends not having any because they thought maybe the woman spit in it or something.
The waitress and staff of the restaurant didn't talk at all to the group for the rest of the night. When the bill came, he wasn't charged for the pizza. When the friends left and headed home their separate ways, there was a car accident involving this guy crashing into a highway median and flipping the car.
The injuries due to the accident would not have been severe, but he was found dead nonetheless. The official cause of death was ruled to be starvation - even though his friends had witnessed him not 30 minutes prior eat an orange chicken platter, 4 helpings of fried rice, and... a pizza.
Every 3 years, a child goes missing from the town of Lake Odessa, Michigan. Most families with children keep their kids under careful watch during these times, some going as far as keeping them home and out of school for weeks until the situation is over.
The disappearances always come after several weeks of shadowy and cloudy formations and figures appearing in Jordan Lake. Locals who typically fish in the lake do well to stay away from it around these times, just as a precaution. But to this day, when the shadows arrive, the people of Lake Odessa expect trouble. And before they can even react, sometimes days, sometimes weeks later, the shadows disappear along with one of their own.
In the middle of the nevada desert is a small nondescript wooden shack containing a ticket dispenser like those found at the DMV or a high-traffic deli counter.
Those who take a ticket may only take one - another will not separate itself from the machine. Each ticket has a number from 1 to 7 but the numbers are always random - never in a conceivable pattern.
The ticket bearer never seems to lose the ticket no matter how hard he or she tries - until their death upon which day the ticket simply vanishes and becomes lost.
The number on the ticket usually presents itself in many forms throughout the bearer's life. Furthermore, each bearer that has died to date has died on the day corresponding to their ticket; 1 for Sunday, 2 for Monday etc.
The number has also presented itself in other aspects: a bearer of a ticket 7 had 7 children even after repeated failed attempts at birth control, but an 8th was never conceived. A bearer of a ticket 2 always won $2 on the lottery without fail. A bearer of a ticket 3 was never able to move without her new apartment number also being 3. Although she thought at first she was doomed to apartments, she was later successfully able to move into a house on her city's 3rd avenue.
There are 3 diners in the United States - 1 in Minnesota, 1 in California, and 1 in South Carolina. If you go to one of them during the lunch rush and ask the right waitress for "the best soup of the day the chef has ever made", she will instruct you to follow her into the kitchen. Upon arrival she will throw you into the pot of soup upon the stove and you will black out.
When you come to, you will wake up in the bathroom of one of the other two diners - just in time for dinner.
The ban on Cuban products wasn't necessarily political in nature. In 1925 US government scientists found that certain products found transported from Cuba, espcially prized Cuban cigars, bestowed upon the user various properties including incredible fortune, luck, strength, or longevity - hence confiscation of all such items when possible.
It is rumored that the special items have been traded to tourists from an unremarkable white sailboat with no known or recorded markings. On the one occasion government workers attempted to pursue the vessel and photograph it, the boat easily escaped capture and the digital camera elicited only corrupt data.
Recently I started biking to work once in a while - for exercise and for saving gas money. I hate biking back home after evening shifts though. My bike light is small and there is a stretch of road with virtually no lights and little to no traffic at night since its only a couple farms and a few factories at the end with trucks delivering there once in a while.
On one particular Monday evening it was muggy out and I was making my way back home down this road. About halfway between the traffic light near work and the factories at the end of the road with lights nearby, it got so muggy and humid and warm that I had to stop and get off my bike for a second.
At that second I turned and looked around and staring RIGHT at me were two glowing green eyes from the side of the road.
I pedaled my ass out of there as fast as I could until I was within the safety of glorious light.
I started getting sweaty and it felt humid again, even with the cooling breeze from pedaling so fast. I looked to the left (which was my right when biking the other way) and saw it - a big scarecrow with dark green eyes.
I felt uneasy so I sped up a little - I pedaled as fast as my legs could carry me.
I got a bit of sweat dripping down my face. As I moved to wipe some of it from my eyes, for a split second I saw the scarecrow's face reflecting in my handlebars! I blinked and it was gone...
I have a story for you /x/. I don't think I'm crazy but a lot of people do. Here's what happened to me today.
I work at a library at a university. It's not too busy but not dead quiet either. There were people talking and goofing around and working on class assignments - nothing unusual.
But at exactly 5:55 PM, I suddenly heard everything stop. Everyone was completely quiet and moving very slowly. Not like eerily slow like time warp, but like they purposely didn't want to attract attention - like they were sneaking around. I looked around and the only people who seemed normal were myself and a coworker named Laura, who is a "library specialist" who is trained to handle a lot of the services we offer and all. She seemed to be going on as normal at her side of the desk even though our other coworkers, Pat and Paul, were quiet and still.
I turned to look around - everything was so creepy and still and quiet - but then I heard the library doors open.
In walked a frail looking old man with an unremarkable black tuxedo and a plain, dull, average face, but two things noticeably stood out from this gentleman:
He walked slowly up to the counter, fixated on Laura and seemingly uninterested in me. I got a chill down my spine. This guy creeped me the fuck out. He set the briefcase down on the counter and opened it.
A huge fucking bee was inside.
This thing was easily the size of the briefcase if not larger. It looked like any other bee except big and hairy - almost like a bee teddy bear toy of some sort. But it was ALIVE and it buzzed loudly and vibrated at the most sickening and ungodly rate, like a vibrator or something.
He took the bee out of the briefcase and held it out, and Laura looked up slowly. She suddenly said "Oh darling, are these roses for me? They're BEAUTIFUL!" and took the bee from his arms and cradled it like some vibrating furry baby of doom.
The buzzing from the big bee kept getting louder. I vaguely remember seeing Laura leave with this man as he took her by the hand and walked her out the door. Even through my fear I wanted to follow them - to help her or figure out what was happening. It was the maddening buzzing sound that drove me to shut my eyes and cover my ears and grit my teeth and wish it all away.
Suddenly it all stopped. The library was back to its normal hustling and bustling. I looked around - Laura was really gone. But I had to know for sure what happened. I asked Pat and Paul where Laura was. The reaction I got was one of puzzlement.
"Who is Laura? What are you talking about?" They acted as if she never existed in the first place. It's like none of it happened at all!
I am so confused, still now. But you can see tell tale signs if you know where to look that this really happened. Laura isn;t on our schedule at work anymore - vanished completely. But now Saturdays and Sundays - when she used to work - the staff is reduced to only a lab staff member and a reference librarian - no library specialist. I didn't know Laura that well but I'm gonna try to track down her friends and family and see if they remember her.
And please PLEASE if any of you hear a story like this somewhere else or if you see Laura or this BEE KEEPING OLD MAN please tell me - tell /x/ - tell the world!
There is a small town in rural Indiana with a single traffic light. This traffic light usually behaves as normal - green, yellow, red.
In the hours leading up to some of the world's more recent big disasters, the traffic light starts quickening it's pace until eventually it displays all colors at once on every side until the disaster is over.
Residents are aware of this behavior but rarely talk about it for fear that someone would want to destroy or dismantle it for investigation.
Twice in the town's history, the traffic light has been struck by lightning while in this phase and lost all bulbs due to a power surge. When this has happened, predicted disasters have been lessened to the point of nonexistence and witnesses report seeing angels in the sky in the hours after the event, intently watching the traffic light as if to be guarding it.
I have heard that if you visit the capital of your home state during bad weather, and carve the initials of someone you hate in a tree on capitol grounds, three days later that person will draw blood somehow - whether it be a papercut, car accident, or otherwise.
There is a stretch of road in the heavily wooded area between Port Austin and Caseville, Michigan that is devoid of houses; vacant even with the desire for property right on the water of the Saginaw Bay.
Locals say the road is best traveled during the day. At night, several truckers and a few other weary travelers have seen shadows lingering along the edges of the highway, but none have stopped their vehicles due to the fast speed and near-blind curves of the road.
The one building along that road is a motel. With semi-modern accommodations, the motel is a lone oasis along the road there. Visitors sometimes talk about hearing unusual noises or seeing unusual things out of their windows, speculating about everything from bigfoot to yeti to aliens; but in the end they never complain to the owner.
There's just something calming about seeing that older gentleman who owns the motel, toting around his rifle and keeping watch. I think he prides himself at keeping the shadows and the human world separate.
Most people believe that the fire in Centralia, PA, was started by miners. Not everyone buys the story though, especially not the families staying there. They believe a different type of accident started the fire, and public officials closed off the area not only due to fire hazards, but due to the population boom of a certain species in the area, and the need to keep it contained.
On August 8th, 1973, a subway station in New York City, and the public's memory of it, completely disappeared. It's former location is not known, although some urban explorers traversing through old subway tunnels have happened upon an old station that wasn't listed on any modern maps - in pristine condition. Working lights, clean restrooms, brand new maps, the day's newspapers stocked in vending machines... the works. Unfortunately, the explorers never seem to find the station again, and always forget their cameras or end up with blurry, inconclusive photos.
Subway officials deny all queries about the station.
There's a seldom open bookstore in a remote town in northern California that sells common books.
But the books aren't exactly what you expect. Although the cover looks like the actual book, each one describes the time, method, and place of the death of the book's author.
But the bookstore is still seldom open. As far as people can tell, you can only go there once - and if you know about it it will never be open when you try to visit. And if you do buy one, everyone you show it to will see the actual book - not the record of the author's death.
The man that owns the bookstore is a clean cut guy in his mid 30s with short to mid length black hair. He lives in town but doesn't talk much. Most of the town's residents have seen him at this age for decades - leading many people to believe he doesn't age.
Some of the townsfolk have been able to give him gifts when seeing him around town and have had success getting him to open the store to them after such gifts.
Some of his likes are fresh garden grown vegetables, comic books, music (he has a record player, tape decks, and a CD player - as well as a newer laptop), fine cigars and wine, and postcards from around the world.
Near Brookings, South Dakota, there's an old farm that has been vacant for decades. The farmhouse is wholly devoid of all furnishings, except for the kitchen. The kitchen is decked out in typical 1950's kitchen furnishings, except that everything in it has been painted completely orange.
No one can trace back the ownership of the farm or who ever lived there, except that the property within several hundred yards radius is owned by the federal government.
In 1943 a small island with an old lighthouse inexplicably appeared in the Florida keys. Within it are housed drawings and preserved skeletons of over 200 species of previously unidentified fish.
To this day only 1 of the species has ever been found alive - it was found in 1996 near a remote part of the Chilean coast not frequented by tourists or other outsiders. The other 199 or so species have not been found in the wild, and scientists have little hopes of DNA extraction from the extremely fragile skeletons.
To add more to this puzzling mystery, a man from Brookings, South Dakota came forward and said that he had several living specimens of at least 7 of the fish from the lighthouse living in a pond in his property. Although the gentleman inexplicably knew every nook and cranny of the lighthouse and island, upon examination, none of the fish in his possession matched those displayed in the lighthouse - which came as an absolute surprise to both he AND the researchers involved. To this day the man still believes the species of fish he has kept in his pond reside somewhere on the walls of the lighthouse as drawings and skeletons, although no matches have been made.
In some older Coca Cola vending machines that offer cans, it's said that you can produce a scalding hot can of Coca Cola which turns ice cold after burning a human being. By entering exactly $6.66 intg the machine. Although the machines do not take pennies, after $6.65 is entered a single penny will produce the can in question.
A Coca Cola employee stocking such a machine tried it and succeeded, but upon checking the machine no product was found - nor was the money spent.
It is said that in Glen Rose, Texas, an old bank vault underneath the city contains a slot machine from the 1800s that contains a key given to Abraham Lincoln by an unidentified being bearing resemblance to a gray alien.
Even if you found the machine, you would have to get all three 7s to line up to retrieve the key.
And to do that, you would need the arm of the slot machine, which has been hidden seperately from the machine itself. It's whereabouts are unknown but rumored to be in either Dallas, Texas, New Orleans, Louisiana, or Walla Walla, Washington.
Although the obvious choice would be the furthest away, those in the know believe that it's in New Orleans, Louisiana and that Hurricane Katrina was orchestrated to provide a cover for a search and recovery of the arm.
In Kentwood, Michigan, you can take the back road behind the airport and see some beautiful scenery at night. When the stars are out and the airport lights are on, the view is amazing.
If you don't see the stars out, and the airport lights begin to dim as you drive on, turn back. Everyone you meet who knows about those back roads will tell you to turn back. One night, a friend of mine ignored those warnings and kept going.
He decided to take a late night drive to clear his head and decided after picking up some snacks at the grocery store to drive out through the back roads. As he drove, the loud metal blasting through his speakers started to fade, and the lights outside the car started to dim. He kept going, even with no stars or lights to guide him, and his own headlights fading quickly.
The car slowed to a stop, dead. Quickly turning to panic, my friend kept trying to start his car, but to no avail. The air around his was dead silent.
But through the blackness behind him, he could hear the "tap tap tap" of footsteps, slowly growing louder as they neared him.
Tap tap tap. Closer and closer, but still he could see nothing. He locked his doors and pulled out his cell phone.
Tap tap tap. No signal. The sound was getting even closer.
Tap tap tap. He closed his eyes and kept them shut as tight as can be.
Tap.
The next morning he showed up for class quiet and pale as a ghost, and while walking through the parking lot I noticed a new, large scratch in the metal on the driver side door. To this day he has never told me the rest of what happened out there, but now he never goes out alone at night.
In 1993, a schizophrenia patient who formerly worked as a lunch lady snuck into a factory that manufactures TV dinners marketed to kids. Upon donning the same work clothing as other employees, nobody was the wiser about her presence - that is, until she got hold of some sort of cutting tool and started removing some of her appendages.
She died of blood loss before she even made it to a hospital, and was buried shortly thereafter. Most of the appendages were recovered, and a few were found later on in meals that went on to be sold. A couple of fingers were never reported or found.
Big Lots is known for carrying closeouts of random, obscure, niche brands and products. But if you ever happen to find yourself there and come across a bag of chips with Russian writing and an eerie-looking clown giving a thumbs-up, don't buy it. We haven't been able to track down any living person who has bought them, and a certain government agency is looking to keep it that way.