Where you guys finding your creepypasta these days? I hate the

When I was about twelve, my great-uncle John came from Ukraine to visit us in Canada. He had a lot of stories, but this was the one that stood out.

In the late 1960's, John was traveling by train from his village to another to visit family. He had to change trains at one point, and was dropped off at what amounted to a platform and a hut in the middle of nowhere. There was no one else at the station, and other than a dirt road that led off into the surrounding woods, there was nothing there.

He waited for some time, but no train came. It was winter and getting colder and darker, and just about the time he started worrying about a place to stay and some food to eat, an old woman appeared out of the twilight.

She asked if he was waiting for such and such a train, and when he said he was, she said it wouldn't be along until the following day. She asked if he needed a bed for the night, and offered him a meal and room at her house, which she said was about an hour's walk from the station.

Lodging with locals was more or less the standard when traveling in this part of the USSR, and great-uncle John wasn't looking forward to a hungry night on a cold platform, so he was glad to accept her offer. He took his suitcase and they set off together down the dark road into the forest.

It was more than an hour away -- more like two -- and by the time they arrived at the woman's small, two-story house, John was tired and hungry. They went inside and the woman lit some oil lamps and warmed some borscht for them. It was the first time John was able to see the woman clearly, and he was a bit startled to realize that the old woman was actually a man. Not wanting to pry, and to tired to care, John finished his soup and asked where he would be sleeping.

>>19002977

She led him up the stairs to a tiny room with a window that contained a single bed and nothing else. He thanked her, they said goodnight, and she closed the door. Then she locked it, leaving him in the dark.

Somewhat creeped out by this, John called to her, but she didn't answer and he heard nothing else. Figuring he would deal with it in the morning, and that she had probably done it by mistake, John set his suitcase down and laid on the bed, deciding to make the best of it and get some sleep.

Before he could fall asleep, though, he felt the urge to pee, and got out of bed, hoping to find a chamber pot or something he could pee in. He got onto his hands and knees and began to feel under the bed in the darkness, thinking that's where the pot would be if there was one.

Instead, he found a body.

"Nope," great-uncle John said, and went right to the window to see if he could exit the room that way. It was nailed shut.

He knew that if he remained in the room, he was probably a dead man. But if he broke the window and tried to get out that way, there was a good chance that the "old woman" (and who knows who else was there) would hear him and come into the room before he could get away.

So he did the only thing he could do. He pulled the body from under the bed, heaved it onto the mattress and covered it with the blanket. Then he got under the bed and waited.

>>19002981


Sure enough, about an hour later, he heard footsteps coming slowly up the stairs and then toward the room. The lock clicked, and the knob turned slowly. In the gloom, John saw someone move toward the bed. Then he heard several terrific and sickening thuds. The person had bashed the body on the bed with a large crowbar, which they then dropped onto the floor right in front of John.

There was silence, then the person went out of the room, and the door was shut again. The footsteps when down the stairs, and then there was silence again.

John moved out from under the bed, took the crowbar and was able to slowly pry the window open. He didn't say, but I imagine he was shitting bricks the entire time. When the window was up, he threw his suitcase out, then dove through himself, not caring what was below him, only worried about what was behind.

He landed without too much injury, and began to run into a field behind the house toward some lights in the far distance. It turned out to be a highway with some military and transport trucks on it, and John was able to get a ride to another village where he could catch a train.

He didn't bother reporting what had happened to the authorities, since at that time in the USSR, there was a distinct chance he would have been the one who got into trouble. He just thanked God he escaped and decided that the next time he traveled to visit relatives, he would take another way.

>>19002942
Some things on the SCP wiki seem pretty decent to me.

Sorry to hijack your thread OP but maybe you /x/philes could help me. I'm looking for this creepypasta, a really old and short one, where the main character is this guy who likes to wear a white mask and stand in people's lawns at night to freak them out. On one of these nights a person wearing the same type of mask as him comes out of the house he's trying to spook and he runs away. The story ends with the other masked figure asking (paraphrased) "why are you running away? Aren't we the same?"

I swear to god that I've read this story, but I can't find it anywhere. It almost feels like something my mind's made up at this point.

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>>19005418
here you go

>>19005585
You're a saint.

>>19005585
damn that's a great one

short and sweet is the only way to read pastas, I'm not reading some shitty college kid's thirty page story about skinwalkers

>>19006467
The only skinwalker story I liked was about this hitchhiker wearing old timey clothing, like from the fifties hat and all.
The rider didn't say anything for a few miles, just lay with his hat covering his face. Then suddenly said "stop the car ".
Rider ran into the woods, driver thought he was using the bathroom or something but after ten minutes or so he got impatient and left..
While pulling off the side of the road and getting up to speed he saw rider.
Rider walked into the road and started running, then started running on all fours at grest speed. Driver got away.


Anyways, these stories usually suck especially when they mention "reading stories online " and being Navajo or being on a Navajo reservation.
I like the above story because it's just a stranger. And he doesn't shape shift. Just runs on all fours.
Subtly seems to be lost in contemporary creepy pasta.

>>19006508
I like that pasta too anon, and that one was brief if I remember right. Creepy pastas are the modern urban legends, or at least fulfill the same purpose. If someone on reddit wrote a story about the babysitter and the man upstairs it would start with five paces of backstory describing the town, the financial and social reasons she's babysitting instead of being out with friends, the relationship between her parents and the kids' parents, and he'd call about fifteen times with interludes describing how the babysitter called her boyfriend and he came over and then spend another two pages filling us in on their relationship.

>>19005418
Speaking of skinwalkers creepypasta, I've been looking for one that I think is relatively well known.

It's about a city kid that goes camping with his cousins in the country, but a shapeshifter infiltrates their groups and just... Hangs out for a while. Every time the shapeshifter did thing there was the smell of burnt blood in the air and when it tried to mimic speech it sounded like a cat meow-talking.

It says "Stop playing around man, let me in" or something.

Love these quality threads... I need moar please anons