Chitchat The Scariest Thing You Can Imagine

[King Of Imagination]

What I want for this is very simple. I want you to, from the darkest depths of your imagination, to create the scariest scene you can imagine. Be as descriptive and gory as you want. No pictures, links, songs, or anything other than writing. Be original, don't copy others' ideas, or take from things like creepy pasta.


Mine:


You want something scary? Imagine this; Ahead of you, nothing but darkness, and silence.


From that silence comes a quiet growl, low and gutteral. It slowly raises in volume as you assume it grows close, and closer with silent steps. Far past where you assume the growl would reach its peak, it still grows loader, to almost deafening.


You know it has to be right on top of you now, but you can't see it.


Suddenly, you feel a cold, wet sensation on the back of your neck. You touch it. It's sticky, like saliva. You look up slowly, and there, above you, is a terrifying sight. A creature comprised of naught but bone and muscle tissue.


Its maw, with rows upon rows of teeth, opened wide, with a long, thin, spiked tongue moving around wildly, as if trying to lick its no existent lips. It has spines all along it's back, the color of blood.


Its claws are dug deep into the cieling, and its head is turned at an unnatural angle. It stares down at you with hollow, blank eyes. It drip drool on you as you stand there, staring.


You want to run, but you know that the second you move, this creature with jump down and tear you open, slowly and mercilessly tearing out your organs until you either pass out from the pain or bleed to death.


Suddenly, a light comes on, and covering the ceiling are these strange creatures, all staring at you. You know now that your own death is imminent, and, in the eyes of the first, you see yourself being torn apart by them. You succumb to your fear and run, and they pounce. Blood sprays everywhere, and you are no more.

 

[El Phantasmo]

I don't find fear in things like that. More a distanced curiosity and wonder "What's that?", "How's that work?" and the like. The dark, odd noises, freaky things. I don't think that stuff holds much fear for me.


But the thought of harm coming to my 2 year old son, me not being to help him, me not even being there? Those things petrify me. I'd bitch-slap Cthulhu. I wouldn't want my boy to come to any harm. Weird/Dark/Sinister etc aren't scarey. Your offspring potentially being harmed or you losing them? Soul-freezingly petrifyingly horrific nausea and that sinking feeling in your gut where it feels like your soul is dropping out your rear....

 

[Circus]

Not realizing there is a step and you walk forward and it feels like you're walking off a cliff.


A lego carpet.


Always running out of toilet paper.


My student loans.

 

[Generi]

^Student loans, hell that is the scariest thing in the world. ¬.¬


Except, perhaps, wasps. Wasps wearing Crocs, with socks.


Your parents telling you, "We're not mad. We're just disappointed."


The polite scorn of a Canadian.

 

[J0ker]

Scorpions


Your favorite team losing the championship game/series


Wal-Mart people


Seeing a cute woman who turns around and has a butter face


People not seeing the funny side

 

[Lux___Wolf]

In the middle of the night, your bedroom door open, light in the hall behind a silhouette.


Someone watches you. Is that your uncle? What is in his hand?


A pair of scissors, with bits of hair and flesh. Uncle, no.


Your throat tightens. You can't speak as the shadow draws near.

 

[Valfyr]

(The occult, the mythical, the mysterious can all be scary in their own right, but my money says there's no terror quite like losing control. It is pretty long but the details make it, so here it is. Criticism, constructive and otherwise, is invited.)


Bad Trip





The air is becoming awful, a sickly sweet humidity that drenches your body in a sticky sheen of sweat. What clothes that touches your skin soaks and clings, forcing the feverish heat within to intensify where it connected. Beginning to gasp through your breathing, you set the pipe beside empty bottles and cough. They had said it was strong, promising through grins that the high would last the night. Truth or lie, the alcohol assured it would. The last few hits had made the thrumming of your heartbeat into an aching that went from sternum to throat, vibrating each with every beat. You decide through wordless thoughts you won't have anymore. If the sweating wasn't bad enough, the churning, swirling sensation in your head was only becoming more intense. Strange, unsolicited thoughts come as quickly as they pass, as formless as they are pointless, fragments and threads that went nowhere. By instinct, you stare ahead at the street through the blurring lag of your vision like you might a work of art, searching for meaning and pattern though inarticulately. A realization strikes, dulled by the increasing sway of your mind, that your thoughts do not come or cease at your will; You no longer control your thoughts. Uncomfortable, heart quickening its beat, there is an increasing desperate moment of focus. The sensation of a weightless vortex within your head is building more and more intense. Forcing focus, you look at your wrist. The time "08:14 pm" glows a dull green.


Too much smoke, too fast, it was still catching up. You close your eyes, now somewhat urgently willing focus and control. The void yawns silently, deepening, drawing thicker around you in depth and control. An intense weight and current, all thoughts surrender utterly to the sensation of spinning back and over. Fear flushes your body as the sensation builds exponentially, as if your head were pulled back against a waterfall that flowed from every direction at once. Your eyes widen quickly, any actions taken now driven by instinct. Trees, cars, the street all shimmered like reflections in water as the image and your head roll back. The staccato thrumming of your heartbeat is painful, pumping battery acid through clenching veins either side your neck. Panting, the great pull of the void softens as eyes opened widely stared intently ahead. They grasp for a point of reference, an anchor, stability. The chill that creeps from toes through ligaments and up your spine is like freezing water, forcing a tense, cold sweat. A tight blink becomes a nod, and the grit of concrete against hair is not enough to draw you back from the void's renewed embrace.


The sensation becomes manifest and seizes. Raw, roaring sound building. Like a body within a tire, conscious as it begins to spin. Shifting in weight, hard pressure on the left half. Panic. A duration. Movement. The tire spins faster. Intensity. Consciousness falling round and back. Up side down. Hanging. Panic. Sweat. Churn. Falling. The body seizes. Intensity. Whimpering whispers, gasps. Aching. Ringing in ears destroying thought. Panic. A duration. Hands grasping, squeeze grey matter. Tears, hot. Shaking. Vibrating. Deafening ringing roar. Shuddering pain. A duration. Intensity. Wall of noise. Tire spins faster. Eyes widen, all a blur, new angle. Green glowing. Squeezing pressure through head, focus, sight. Numbers and letters:


"08:22 pm"