This happened to me 9 years ago, I’m 36 now.

>be me
>27
>live in Belfast but gf’s from Armagh
>she invites me down for the weekend
>“nothing ever happens here lol”
>except boredom and Catholic guilt
>decide to go anyway
>she’s working Friday night so I head out for a walk
>rural AF
>fields, woods, the smell of slurry and silent resentment
>see a wee dirt trail off the main road
>no sign, no reason for it to be there
>obviously I take it>because I’m an idiot

>sun going dow
n>trail winds through trees, then opens up into a weird clearing
>dead quiet
>no birdsong
>circle of flat stones, looks ancient
>centre of the circle = statue
>looks like a horse rearing up
>except instead of a neck and head it has…tentacles>not like squid tentacles
>more like massive coiled limbs, covered in Celtic knotwork
>wtf.jpg
>thing is old
>covered in moss but the shape is still intact
>some kind of forgotten god maybe?
>reminds me of the weird stuff I read once about Armagh being a spiritual centre in ancient timeslike, pre-Christian>older than the druids even

>Armagh = "Ard Mhacha"
>named after Macha, goddess of war, sovereignty, death, etc
>place used to be a big pagan hotspot
>people would come from miles to do rituals here>Christianity shows up, turns it into a “holy city”
>but before that, proper occult shit went down
>human sacrifice, animal skins, hallucinogens
>the works

>>cont

>start taking pictures of the statue
>get a weird feeling
>like it’s…watching me
>no eyes, no face
>just coiled limbs
>but still feels aware
>hear something behind me
>turn around
>see a group of people in long robes entering the clearing
>fuckfuckfuck

>they don’t look surprised to see me
>just kind of…disappointed
>one of them gestures
>I freeze
>don’t know if it’s fear or something stronger
>they start chanting
>not Irish
>not Latin
>language makes my teeth itch
>like something wrong with the sound
>like the meaning is under the sound, slithering
>they circle the statue
>place offerings at its base
>skulls
>blood
>what looks like a baby goat, still twitching
>statue begins to…change
>the moss peels off
>the limbs shift
>not stone anymore
>flesh
>squirming
>wet

>that’s when I realise
>they’re not worshipping
>they’re feeding it
>one of the robed figures turns to me
>lifts hood
>it’s my gf

Fuck this greentext shit, can’t be fucked keeping it up.

She didn’t look surprised. Not at all. She looked… content. Like she’d been waiting for this. Waiting for me to show up. Her eyes were darker than I remembered, no light behind them — just that cold serenity you see in statues of saints and serial killers.
"Don’t be afraid," she said. Her voice echoed weirdly in the clearing. "You’re part of this now."
I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t listen. They felt numb. Heavy. The chanting rose behind me, thrumming like a second heartbeat. I turned to look at the statue — no, the thing. It was fully alive now. Half of it still resembled a twisted, powerful horse, but the upper body undulated with thick limbs that coiled and uncoiled like eels in oil. It had no face, just a yawning vertical mouth, ringed with ridges and teeth.

It smelled like the sea. And rot.
One of the robed figures brought a bowl to my lips. Thick, dark liquid. Tasted like iron and mushrooms. I gagged but swallowed, unable to resist. My vision blurred. The world pulsed.
I saw things then. Things buried beneath the hills of Armagh. Bones. Circles of salt. Deep wells that reached into blackness. I saw people dancing in firelight, skin painted with spiral symbols, eyes rolled back as they offered blood to gods with no name.
And I saw myself, among them.
When I came to, the clearing was empty. No statue. No blood. Just birdsong again, and the morning sun peeking through the trees.
I never seen my gf again. She wouldn’t answer my calls. Her house was empty. The neighbours said she moved out years ago.
I’m happily married now, with 2 kids, but sometimes, late at night, I hear the chanting again. Not outside — in my head. Like something waking up in me.
Something old. Something hungry.

>>40511548
super fun anon i liked it

i TLDR's most of it but i got the high notes

i would lay off the embeleshment
(made my teeth itch or slithering)

pick one it feels overbaked ect

same with a ton of it but its very very good


instead of your part of it for instance

go first person

I knew you were special

or something even that feels forced i guess

"im just so happy your finally here"

and make it more volentary because you dont resist people dont act like that

I wanted to drink the liquid it felt so right even though a part of me was screaming not to like laying my head on a pillow after a long day the sweet embrace was irresistible

i like the idea of your GF pretending she does not know you better than disapearing also


7/10 would reccomend

>be me
>22
>city kid, photography student
>roadtripping through Appalachia for a uni project
>looking for “forgotten places”
>end up in some no-name town in West Virginia
>no cell signal
>map just says “Hollow Pike”
>perfect mood
>sun going down
>see an old white church, boarded up
>steeple’s still intact
>cross missing
>get closer, camera ready
>notice weird symbols carved into the wood
>not graffiti
>older
>walk around back
>find a trail through the trees
>follow it
>comes out to a clearing with stone pillars
>at the center is a pile of sticks and bones arranged like a nest
>take a few pics
>snap a twig
>freeze
>realize the forest is silent
>no crickets
>no birds
>just wind
>hear a clicking sound behind me
>turn
>see five people in handmade clothes and animal masks
>deer, fox, crow, something with too many teeth
>they’re just standing there
>"Y’all ain’t supposed to be here after dark."
>voice is a whisper, but I feel it in my chest
>they surround me
>chanting something low and wet-sounding
>air feels thick
>one of them lifts their mask
>no face
>just skin stretched over where eyes and mouth should be
>run
>no clue how I find my car
>drive with hands shaking, dirt road bouncing
>get to a diner an hour away
>ask if they’ve heard of Hollow Pike
>waitress pauses
>“Hollow Pike burned down in ’62. Church too.”
>says there’s nothing out there but woods now
>check my camera
>all photos are gone
>except one
>me
>in the nest
>as they lean in

Lets fucking go!

>be me>26>doing odd jobs in rural Oregon>cheap rent, no neighbors>nearest town is 12 miles out and barely functioning>landlord says “don’t go near the creek after dusk”>laugh it off>assume it’s local meth-head warning
>one night power goes out>full moon>grab flashlight, decide to check the breaker outside>hear humming coming from the woods>not mechanical>like a dozen people singing the same off-key note
>follow it>because I have the curiosity of a white guy in a horror movie>reach the creek>see figures kneeling in the water>hooded, motionless>chanting that same note
>creek’s only a foot deep>they’re submerged up to their shoulders>not moving with the current>just... there
>one of them stands up>taller than human>limbs too long, skin pale and slick like a frog>no eyes, just holes>mouth opens sideways
>humming stops>entire forest goes silent>creature points directly at me
>flashlight dies>no moon>can’t see anything>but I hear the water rushing toward me>not footsteps>just the sound of the creek moving wrong
>run>trip twice>feel something wet brush my ankle>make it inside and slam the door
>house stinks of moss>floorboards damp>look out the window>nothing there
>next morning>creek is dry>like it was never there>ask the landlord again>he says, “There ain’t been a creek on that land since the ‘40s.”>says last tenant wouldn’t stop humming>disappeared one night
>sometimes I still hear it>low, broken, just outside the window>there’s no water anymore>but something’s still crawling through the dirt to find me

Grandmother was from Armagh, she was superstitious af. I'm convinced our lineage descends from ancient witches or druids; probably from the pre neolithic, spirits have haunted us for years. I've always had psychic premonitions. Vivid dreams of psychopomps, swastika's, elk's. My Grandmother and mother have passed on now but I've had her come to me in my dreams and try communicate with me. Truth is I was in Belfast last year for the first time to scatter some other my mother's ashes in our ancestral homeland. It was a clusterfuck but I hope to return this year..

I've read books on this ancient place and I have a 'blood obligation' to scatter my mother's ashes somewhere in Armagh. All I Know is some of my ancestors were married at the cathedral and a few may be buried nearby, I feel a connection to something pre Christian. My Grandmother was a peculiar woman, I can only describe her as a pagan soul wrestling against Christian dogma.

That's all I have the add.

>>40512581
You had one job

>>40511520 (OP)
thats probably Odin's 8-legged horse Sleipner, aka 'Slipper'
>inb4 celtic not norse
paganism is a single religion, always has been. it is *the* religion. the which actually applies in reality
the 8-legged horse is obviously not literally a horse with 8 legs, the guy's name is not literally Odin, the guy is not necessarily even a guy at all probably, but these are all symbolic of something intrinsic within nature. theyre employed in this way to make it more palatable for normies.

to better understand the concept, just as an example. at the beginning of the Silmarillion, Eru Iluvatar creates the Ainur, and they begin a great song. But one of theirs is not beautiful like the others, and is repulsive, a discord, but continues nonetheless fucking up the sacred music anyway and ruins the whole ensemble. This Ainur was Melkor, whose name when in Middle Earth was Morgoth, the Master of Sauron.

Eru Iluvatar then uses the song, even with its imperfection, to create Arda (the world in Lord of the Rings)
you see the Sacred Music is both metaphorical and a microcosm for the entire history of Middle Earth, and the story of the process of its existance. it starts out beautiful, a peaceful utopia, then came Melkor's contribution to the Music - Morgoth's coming and the war with the elves of the first age. his defeat, the rise of sauron and fall of numenor after that, sauron's defeat, resurgence, destruction of the ring etc.

>>40513186
i should note its an important distinction to identify this phenonomon the esoteric/noticer side, as opposed to being on the exoteric/normie side and who literally thinks in terms of marvel movies

its also important to note when said normies coopt this structure despite having zero understanding of what its for or why its employed, and then proceed to try to conceive of their own version, in a sort of oneupsmanship. i.e.
- dionysus rode in on a donkey? ---> yeah well our guy rode in on TWO donkeys

heres a better example:
- there was a great flood once, a long time ago? ---> well a man got on a boat with two of every animal

at this point there is still some plausible deniability possible, that there was a pagan truth underlying, and its not meant to be literal, i.e. an 8-legged horse

but then, when it goes:
well a man got on a boat with two of every animal? ---> well heres a whole genealogy for our messiah tracing his ancestry back to the literal man who literally was on a boat with literally two of every animal

the moral of the story is, to always be mindful of the distinction between these two dynamics.
~ what is not literal but is symbolic of something which is fundamental or applicable to the nature of reality - i.e. the natural science that is 'paganism'

~ what is literal (or not) and not actually applicable to something fundamental or applicable to the nature of reality, the function of which is to 'mar' that perfection, because its of benefits a small minority - i.e. abrahamism, the syballine oracles, the oracles at delphoi (acc. to Herodotus), etc.

when its the former (and its actually legit) youll recognize it in some form as something you know, and often even recognize it through other mediums, i.e. the hero's journey

when its the latter, youll see alot of gematria levels of schizo hoop jumping and revelation tier interpretations of things in order to force their application, in order to legitimize one's beliefs - aka spiritual semitism

Bumping for interest

>>40512788
I'm from Armagh myself, born and bred. Although many would call themselves Catholic, if you really study the cultures qwerks like: covering mirrors at wakes, hiring fortune tellers to contact the dead, ancestor worship, praying to relatives spirits, fear of upsetting Fae (aka cutting down the wrong tree) it's anything but traditional catholicism. If you mentioned ghosts or fairies to a priest he'd but calling the exorcist... Armagh is an old place, the roots go deep.

>>40511520 (OP)
>be me
>tell chatgtp "write me a creepy story in 'greentext' style starting with ">be me" "

lol you guys have so creative thought with AI now days. It's all so tiresome. AI has successfully destroyed everyone critical thinking and creativity.

>>40512788
IM A ANCIENT NORDIC ViKING TALL WHITE!

>>40513618

Thanks for sharing man, this resonates with me and my family being Catholic and all. My grandmother would tell us about the bashees and other folk stuff. What's crazy is I wanted to name my daughter Navan, and I'd never even knew the place existed at the time, we decided on another name eventually but the blood memory is strong. I really hope to visit yours and mine ancestral city soon..

Hell yeah anyone else have Ireland greentexts?

>>40513618
Post is calming.

I'm from Argentina, basically everyone I know has a grandparent with a story about duendes (gnomes)

Here in Argentina the most well known is the "pomberito", a lot of farmers leave offerings to him so he doesn't steal children.

A lot of people think that the cases of missing children in rural areas are for human trafficking (which is true in some part) but there's a lot of anecdotes of unexplainable things too, that may rule out human trafficking in some cases.

The pomberito is said to have backwards feet, so when he walks sends people the other way from where he came

He's an asshole, but there are other types of duendes which are more benevolent or just mischievous without being dangerous

There's also "dirty" and "clean" ones. These are less known, but the dirty ones can be repelled by throwing water and them and the clean ones by throwing alcohol at them... Or pissing on them, that also works.

Like a year ago a kid named Loan disappeared on some rural area, probably because of human trafficking, but they got her grandma on the news saying that the pomberito abducted him.

fun

>>40517989
we call them manlets now

>>40511520 (OP)
the posts were too long and i did not read them

>>40513186
>Sleipner
bae caught me

>>40522019
>the tallest man in that chart is barely 1'3"
It takes a special type of stupid to look at that graph and think it would have any value whatsoever to save and repost.

>>40522206
and now i know how big your monitor is

>>40522421
Found the retard that fell for it.

Bumping for more stories. Why can't we be 2014 /x/ again...

>>40523400
Because we know the supernatural is real, and how it is real, so any uninformed story won’t work as well

>>40511520 (OP)
the lengths of your contributions exceeded my maximum capacity. therefore, i did not consume them.

>>40528622
Same same
I’m different but felt the same