Creepypasta speed dating
The first thing he noticed about her was her mesmerizing green eyes and long, dark hair; he was also intrigued by her classic black dress, which seemed oddly formal, even for a dating event. Despite this haunting funereal look, she was far from the brooding type, and instead came across as very funny and outgoing, with a girlish laugh that made him smile instinctively. This cheerful demeanor proved remarkable, considering her tragic history: The disease was quite prevalent in her family, and her husband ultimately blamed her for their deaths; his bitterness had led to a messy divorce.
Drawn to her strength, kindness and positive outlook — not to mention her strange but undeniable beauty — he accepted her invitation for a first date, which turned out to be quite a success; they both expressed the desire to meet again soon. Romance quickly blossomed, and they began a serious relationship. Months passed, and he decided the time was right to ask her to marry him.
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He had previously come clean with her about his poor financial state, and she in turn revealed that she was fairly well off, and would love it he moved in with her. She accepted his proposal, and he left behind a tiny studio apartment for her cozy two-bedroom house. When his miscellaneous boxes began to pile up in the living room, he offered to stow some of the less important material in her basement until they had more time to get organized.
As strange as that sounded, he agreed and eventually forgot about it, assuming she was a bit of an obsessive about keeping the house in order. But one night while she was away, his laptop suddenly crashed, and he needed to unpack his older, still-working model so he could transfer backup files and finish an important project.
The only relatively clean boxes stored there were his own, so it was no problem locating the one containing his old computer. There were four unfamiliar files installed in a new directory… and all of them appeared to be AVI videos.
After plugging the video recorder in and hooking it up to the TV, I inserted the first videotape and pressed play. The video was extremely shaky and grainy. In the darkness, I could just barely make out the figure of a man tied to a chair. Another figure stood over him, wearing a black mask and dressed from head to toe in shiny black leather. A chill ran down my spine as I realized the figure was holding a large axe. He screamed in pain as the figure delivered more and more blows with the axe.
I watched in utter terror, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. My wife was standing at the door, dressed in a black leather bodysuit. In her hands, she was holding a large axe. The next door neighbors must have heard my terrified screams and called the police. Four officers burst through the front door. They managed to tackle my wife and subdue her before she killed me. Then, they rushed me to hospital. Of course, there was a big trial afterwards.
My wife was found guilty and the judge gave her the death penalty. I was present at the execution. Just before they threw the switch on the electric chair, they asked her if she had any last words. Then, she giggled like a little schoolgirl as the executioner pulled the lever and electricity surged through her body.
Five minutes later, she was pronounced dead. Years later, I still have nightmares about her. While I was in the hospital, I met a wonderful woman. She was my nurse and, over the weeks and months, we fell in love. She lost an eye and three of the fingers on her left hand in a car accident. Despite all that, she is certainly the most loving and caring person a man could wish for.
Inside, she has a heart of gold.
Last Summer, we got married and moved in together. She has helped me a lot. Whenever I read the newspaper, she turns the pages for me. Whenever I have an itch, she scratches it for me. In a way, serves you right but i liked the twist at the ending and the fact that he actually has a reltionship with a not so perfect nurse. All murderers have that giggle. And I think he kind of deserved it!
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Besides I love being single and single people, they are really the best people. He should have just kept a dog or cat to keep his company! But I feel bad for him at the same time. Also, allow me to note: Being homosexual is not something to hide or be ashamed of. Have a nice day. That is like the best story EVER!!
Who likes stories about people being like stalked and stuff? That mans 1st wife is a loony toon crazy. OMG I love this website! OK I think I better shut up now!?! Wut uh I dunno. There were some serious lookers in there, and I swear my pants shrunk a couple sizes at the sight of some of these dresses.
8 Days of Halloween – Top 5 CreepyPastas
The speed dating started. The first girl I sat down with was quite young; a 22 year old mother of three. She had made a lot of mistakes in her life, and seemed far more than I could handle. Right off the bat she told me about how she was four days sober from methamphetamine and was looking to settle down with a nice man who didn't look like a walrus.
I spent the next four minutes making general small talk, quite literally fearing for my life. Once that buzzer sounded, I rocketed out of my chair with the speed of a gazelle. The young woman seemed offended.
8 Days of Halloween - Top 5 CreepyPastas - WTFGamersOnly
But honestly, what did she expect? The next woman was way too old for me. I had thought that these events were age regulated and had different meetings for people in different stages of life. I'm no pervert, but the whole idea of taking her shirt off and seeing two runny eggs nailed to the wall did not appease me.
My decision was finalized as soon as she brought up her grandkids; I can hardly handle one generation of young ones, much less two. I actually asked her if she needed help getting out of her chair after the buzzer sounded Again, another dark look. I was batting 0 for 2, but such pitches were ones that I would gladly let the catcher have.
The next woman seemed much more appealing. She was 26 and studying to be a nurse at a local hospital. She loved kids but had none of her own, which was a relief to me. She seemed well kept and stable, and wasn't a bad looker either. No lie, my eyes did wander a bit south a couple times during the meeting. She either didn't notice or didn't care, as she never pointed it out. I asked her if she'd like my number as the session ended, and she consented. I flipped open my phone and entered her number as she read it out. Smiling at her and thanking her for her listening ear no wonder I had been single for so long While doing so, I closed my phone by accident and realized that I never saved her number, so it was lost forever.
For the love of The next table was empty. If I wanted to sit and stare at a wall, I would have stayed home. Nothing really to say here. This is where the story begins getting dark. The woman I met at the next table was the most interesting of all, but not in a bad way. She had long, flowing dark hair and green eyes.
She had this cute smile and man, what a tight body on this one. Black dress, black shoes, black everything. For someone dressed in such a gothic manner, she had such a bubbly personality. Everything I said made her giggle, and I felt like a king just talking to this girl. She was 27 and currently unemployed. She was married to a husband before, but he had left her after their two children died of leukemia. She told me that the cancer was entwined with her lineage, dating back as far as the eighteenth century; therefore, in numerous fits of emotional rage, her ex husband blamed her for giving the children cancer and left.
Too pained by the loss of her entire family, she moved to the city a few weeks ago and was living on unemployment, unable to continue working at her job due to the crippling depression and panic she suffered as a result of her abandonment. Despite the torment in her life, she never seemed depressed about it. Either she was incredibly optimistic about life or she was one of the best actors I had ever seen; either way, I was willing to take a shot. I asked her if she'd like my number.
It turned out that she had some bad meetings at this particular convention herself, and wanted to take off to do something more fun. She tossed me an invite and, seeing as I was a lonely 32 year old man, she didn't have to ask twice. I never understood what she saw in me over all the other guys. I was beaten and broken with no aspirations to better my current situation.
Maybe she understood how I felt, considering all the pain she felt herself, and decided to get to know who I really was under this cocoon of emotionless insecurity. I sensed a thread of compassion intertwined between all that stress and trauma, willing to lend an ear to anyone that felt the same pain as her.
I was truly transfixed by her presence, drawn to her character. I had never felt like this before. We decided to go to a pool hall. Apparently she used to be a regular at another pool hall by her old house, winning local tournaments and making a name for herself, and she wanted to check out the scenery here. I wasn't too shabby at the table game myself, so I was excited. Every shot she made was perfect; the balls just sank into the pockets like each pocket was a black hole just waiting for something to trespass into its field.
Out of the seventeen games we played, I think I made around 23 shots. She just kept running the table. It was funny, because she kept apologizing for being so good. I waived the apology and complimented her on her skill, causing her to giggle more. Every time she laughed, I fell harder and harder. And, to be honest, I was always excited when the cue ball landed on my side of the table.
You know, 'cause she bent over to take her shots, as many pros do. We left after that. She said she had to get home as she had some errands to run, being new in the neighborhood and all. I agreed, since I had a facebook application that I had to update obviously I didn't give her that reason.
Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Passing up an amazing girl for facebook? I couldn't believe it, I had actually scored a beautiful woman. Weeks and months passed on. We continued to talk and eventually began regularly dating. The relationship moved pretty quickly and it seemed we were truly matched for each other.
After about seven months of dating, I asked her to marry me. I popped the question on the seventeenth, as that's how many games we played on our first date. She found that so romantic and flew into my arms, screaming yes to the skies. Things were finally looking up. I moved out of my shitbox apartment and into her home. I always admired the cozy feel of her two bedroom ranch house.
Something perfect to start a family in. As I was moving my final things in, I noticed how much of a mess I was making, with my boxes of stuff and all. I apologized and motioned to the basement to finish moving my things. Her face instantly darted to mine.
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In a hurried and almost frantic voice, she assured me that she'd take care of the rest of my things and that I should relax. It was a bit odd, sure, but she had been through so much excruciating sadness throughout her life that her having a psychiatric illness is something I expected.
I complied to her request. The next few months were great.