I need to get this out, here is is


> be me
> 18, freshly dropped out of high school
> parents disappointed, whatever
> living in a tiny town in Alabama, population like 900
> nearest Walmart is 40 minutes away
> nothing to do but drink, hike, or go insane
> spend most of my time in the woods or online
> used to hike this trail behind my grandma’s property
> old, barely-used firebreak trail that led into deep woods
> called “Devil’s Gut” by locals
> nobody ever explained why, just told kids not to go too far
> which obviously meant I went as far as I could
> always felt weird back there but peaceful
> like time slowed down
> fast-forward to one weekend in late October
> nights getting cold, leaves all dead
> bored out of my skull
> decide to do a solo hike into Devil’s Gut, bring my camera, GoPro, some jerky, water, flashlight
> tell grandma where I'm going, she gets this real serious look
> asks me if I have anything with iron on me
> “like, an iron rod?”
> she shakes her head and just gives me a rusty old railroad spike
> “keep it in your boot. Don’t let it go.”
> old people are weird.tiff
> shove it in my boot anyway and head out
> woods are quiet, still, but something feels off
> birds go silent around 2 miles in
> sky’s overcast but not dark yet
> find this part of the trail that dips into a hollow I’ve never noticed before
> smells like mold and stagnant water
> like something long-dead under wet leaves
> hear a sound like a baby crying
> okay.mp3
> look around, nothing
> just trees, fog, and leaves
> something clicks in my head and I freeze
> the woods are too still
> like the kind of stillness you get when a predator is nearby
> suddenly feel watched
> camera starts glitching
> screen tears and pixelates for like 2 seconds
> GoPro just dies completely

(image unrelated)
cont 1/?

>>40629870 (OP)
> light wind blows, hear whispering
> can’t make out words, just garbled nonsense
> voice sounds like it’s *inside* my head
> start heading back fast
> but the trail doesn’t look right
> trees seem wrong, taller and twisted
> tree trunks look burned at the bottom, like they were in a fire that never happened
> hear rustling ahead
> see a deer standing in the middle of the trail
> its eyes are *completely human*
> like, full whites and irises staring back
> blinks slowly
> then it stands on two legs
> fight-or-flight kicks in and I bolt
> run for what feels like an hour
> the woods never end
> start to think I’m going in circles
> everything looks the same
> smell that moldy death scent again
> see something up ahead
> looks like an old hunting shack
> half-collapsed, roof missing, moss all over it
> inside is just a mattress, rotted and soaked
> walls have carvings in them
> looks like symbols, spirals, and a name over and over again: “CORA”
> then I hear the crying again
> but now it sounds like it’s *right outside the shack*
> flashlight flickers
> shine it at the door
> see a face peeking in
> not a human face
> pale and sunken, no nose, just two holes, jaw is dislocated and stretched
> eyes are completely black
> it just *stares*
> can’t move
> whole body frozen like it’s holding me in place
> it opens its mouth, but instead of sound, I just feel pain
> pure, sharp pressure in my ears and chest
> suddenly remember the railroad spike
> force my arm to move, pull it out of my boot
> as soon as I grip it, the thing *screeches* like metal being torn
> light explodes, it’s gone
> woods go quiet
> find the trail again like it was never gone
> get out of the woods shaking
> grandma waiting on the porch
> doesn’t say a word, just nods and hands me a bowl of hot soup
> “you didn’t throw it away, did you?”
> show her the spike

cont 2/?

>>40629870 (OP)
If you're going to storytime just keep going. No need for consent. But yes continue, please.

>>40629888
> she nods again, says “then it didn’t mark you.”
> never went back into Devil’s Gut
> still have the spike
> still dream of that face
> always watching
> always waiting just past the tree line

>>40629895
> be me again
> it’s been almost a year since Devil’s Gut
> still live in the same nowhere town
> tried to forget what happened
> never told anyone but grandma
> nobody would believe me anyway
> we don’t talk about it anymore
> railroad spike stays on my nightstand
> weird stuff still happens sometimes though
> wake up with dirt under my fingernails
> once found leaves in my bed that weren’t from any tree nearby
> sometimes I *hear* that baby crying again
> even in broad daylight
> once heard it while I was at the gas station
> thought I was going insane
> then I saw a deer watching me from across the road
> just standing there
> completely still
> eyes still human
> even blinked
> one night, mid-September
> get a call around 11PM
> caller ID just says "UNKNOWN"
> don't answer it
> they leave a voicemail
> just the crying again
> then static
> then my name whispered in that same garbled voice from the shack
> chills.exe
> delete the message, turn off phone
> not even 10 minutes later
> get a knock on my window
> not the door
> the window next to my bed
> flashlight’s already in hand
> go to peek through blinds
> see *me* standing outside
> same hoodie, same face, even holding my flashlight
> except the smile is way too wide
> jaw is loose, unhinged
> eyes too big, like stretched
it lifts the flashlight up and shines it at the window
> but it’s not a flashlight beam
> it’s just complete *darkness* pouring out
> like it was *replacing* the light around it
> back away and grab the spike
> by the time I look back, it’s gone
> window has a smear on it
> like a handprint, but longer fingers, six of them
> tell grandma the next morning
> she just sighs and says, “I think it remembers you.”

3/?

>>40629920
> week later, things get worse
> dreams every night
> always in those woods
> but different
> trees are black and twitching
> sky is red and humming like a broken TV
> keep seeing that shack
> but now it’s clean
> fresh
> inside is a woman sitting on the bed
> long black hair covering her face
> whispers to me
> “it’s waiting for a name”
> wake up screaming
> decide to research “CORA”
> ask around town, mostly old folks
> most shut me down
> one old guy who used to be a forest ranger says the name rings a bell
> says there was a girl named Cora who went missing in the 1940s
> her family lived near Devil’s Gut
> whole family vanished over the course of two weeks
> house was found abandoned, table still set for dinner
> one of the searchers apparently came back talking about “a pale thing that spoke in her voice”
> guy laughs like he doesn’t believe it, but his eyes say otherwise
> before I leave, he says “if you see her, don’t speak your name. She feeds on that.”
> later that night, get another call
> this time it's from *my own number*
> pick up like an idiot
> no sound
> then a low static crackle
> then my own voice:
> “you left the door open.”
> sprint to the front door
> locked
> but there’s *muddy prints* on the inside of the doorframe
> don’t sleep that night
> grandma starts burning something in every room
> says it’s “sweetgrass and iron shavings”
> won’t let me sleep alone anymore
> she sets the railroad spike above the front door
> starts whispering prayers in a language I don’t recognize
> she says, “you need to end it. You have to give her a name.”
> plan to return to the shack
> prepare this time
> flashlight, real iron crowbar, salt, phone, spike
> grandma gives me this old locket
> inside is a picture of a little girl
> she says, “if she sees this, she’ll remember.”
> don’t ask questions
> just take it
> hike out into Devil’s Gut again
4/?

Bumping for something other than a narcissistic schizo thread.

>>40629870 (OP)
Would.

fuck 4chan with their 2,000 character limit. >>40629938

> everything feels *worse*
> trees are too still
> sky feels lower
> every step sounds like it echoes for miles
> find the shack
> it's not ruined anymore
> it’s been *rebuilt*
> new wood, fresh paint, clean white sheets
> step inside
> no dust
> smells like lilacs and copper
> same woman is sitting on the bed
> black hair, pale skin
> can't see her face
> feel cold and nauseous
> pull out the locket and hold it up
> she lifts her head
> her face isn’t monstrous
> it’s just *empty*
> like she hasn’t been a person in a long time
> starts crying
> says “I forgot who I was”
> show her the name: CORA
> she whispers it back, once
> the room shakes
> walls start bleeding
> her skin cracks like porcelain
> black ichor pours out
> but she smiles
> “thank you for remembering me”
> she shatters like glass
> everything goes *black*
> wake up just outside the shack
> except now it's collapsed again
> just like the first time
> like nothing changed
> but the air feels lighter
> the forest feels normal
> no whispering, no crying
> walk back home in silence
> grandma meets me on the porch
> asks no questions
> just hugs me and says, “it’s done.”

> still sleep with the spike nearby
> but the dreams stopped
> no more crying
> no more calls
> sometimes I think I see something just past the trees
> a shape
> watching
> but it never comes closer
> I think it’s her
> and I think she’s *grateful*

5/?

>>40629991 >>40629970
Would also

> be me again
> a few months have passed
> life's been… calm
> no more crying at night
> no whispering in the woods
> grandma seems at peace for the first time in years
> even stopped keeping the spike above the door
> feels like whatever haunted Devil’s Gut finally let go
> I almost feel safe
> almost


> one night I’m cleaning out my room
> decide to finally put the railroad spike away
> feels like a relic now
> wrap it in a rag and stick it in a shoebox in the closet
> next morning, I wake up and feel… wrong
> like I never actually slept
> bed is damp
> not with sweat—like actual wet dirt
> sheets have leaves in them again
> but these aren’t fall leaves
> they’re black
> brittle
> curl inward like they’re hiding from something
> go outside to get air
> there’s a *hole* in the backyard
> wasn’t there before
> perfect circle
> maybe four feet across, no bottom in sight
> smells like the inside of the cave from before
> cold iron and something rotting
> grandma comes out, sees it
> face goes pale
> she just says, "you *put it away", didn’t you?”

> I nod
> she walks back inside without a word
> starts packing bags
> tells me we’re leaving
> now
> no arguing

> whole house feels heavier
> lights flicker even though it’s daytime
> walls creak like they’re breathing
> as we pack, I hear the crying again
> but now it’s deeper
> lower pitched
> like something pretending to be a baby
> it laughs between cries
> we drive for hours
> end up at some old church in Mississippi
> middle of nowhere, even worse than our hometown
> she knows the priest
> they talk in hushed voices for like 30 minutes
> he keeps looking at me
> like he’s not sure I’m fully human idk
> finally tells me to sleep in the chapel, under the cross
> “if it comes, you’ll be safe here”
> grandma sleeps in the car
> I lie down on a cot in front of the altar
> doze off eventually

6/?

>>40630024

> wake up around 2AM
> whole chapel is dead silent
> cross on the wall is upside down
> doors wide open
> smell that copper mold again
> she’s there
> not Cora
> something else
> too tall
> wears her *face* like a mask
> but it doesn’t fit
> eye holes don’t line up
> mouth opens sideways
> it crouches at the edge of the cot
> stares at me
> says in that garbled voice, “you named her. Now name me.”
> scream and grab the iron spike from my bag
> stab it into the thing’s shoulder
> it doesn’t scream
> it *smiles*
> “you think iron ends me?”
> whole chapel explodes into darkness
> wake up outside
> just… laying in the field next to the church
> everything looks fine
> chapel cross back to normal
> but I know it wasn’t a dream
> spike is still covered in that black, sticky ichor

> priest won’t speak to me after that
> says I brought something old with me
> calls it “The Hollowing”
> says it was sealed in Devil’s Gut a long time ago
> not by people, but by something older.
> says when I gave Cora a name, I created a gap
> names are power
> and 'she' wasn’t the only thing down there
> says Cora was just a vessel
> she didn’t want to be part of it
> but whenn she died in those woods, it latched onto her
> twisted her
> but when I gave her back her name…
> she left
> and the thing underneath had no one left to wear
> now it’s looking for someone new
> someone who 'knows the path'

> we try to go back home
> but it’s not there
> literally
> like our town never existed
> road ends in a collapsed bridge
> no GPS signal
> even the maps app just shows blank green space
> like the forest grew over everything
> drive to the nearest gas station, ask about our hometown
> guy behind the counter just laughs
> “Devil’s Gut? Ain’t no such place. You pullin’ my leg, boy?”
> ask about Cora
> he gets real quiet

7/?

(image not related)

>>40630059

> he mumbles, “some names shouldn’t come back”
> then walks into the back and never returns

so yeah,

> we live on the road now
> don’t stay in one place more than a week
> grandma says it’s the only way to keep it confused
> keep it chasing shadows
> but sometimes I hear it catch up
> it knocks on motel windows
> it leaves handprints on the mirrors
> it whispers through payphones even though I never dial
> always the same question:
> “Will you name me?”
> grandma died two months ago
> peacefully, in her sleep
> left me a note:
> “Don’t name it. No matter what it looks like. No matter who it looks like.”

> now it’s just me
> and the thing in the woods
> but it’s not in the woods anymore
> it's *everywhere* I go
> sometimes it looks like grandma
> sometimes it looks like Cora
> once it looked like me again
> but it’s taller now
> longer
> like it's learning how to wear me better
> tonight, it didn’t knock
> it came through the door
> and asked again
> “What’s my name?”
> and God help me
> for a second
> I almost answered

> alone now
> been months since grandma died
> drifting from place to place
> no home, no friends, no real identity
> just the spike
> the road
> and the thing that won’t stop following
> no matter where I go
> no matter how fast I run
> it finds me
> it’s smarter now
> used to knock, now it whispers through *people*
> met a girl at a diner
> cute, funny, easy to talk to, yall would like her
> talked about horror movies and music
> felt almost normal
> until she leaned in close
> and whispered, “you look tired. Want to tell me my name now?”
>fuckme

> stood up and walked out
> she didn’t follow
> but when I looked back, *every person in the diner* had her face

> decide to go back
> not to Devil’s Gut
> that place’s gone now
> but to where it started

8/?

>>40630100

> the shack
> the hollow
> the wound in the world
> even if the land’s been wipd off the maps
> even if the town is forgotten
> I remember
> and that’s enough
> drive toward the forest
> roads twist
> sky gets darker the closer I get
> clouds don’t move right
> trees lean toward the car
> like they’ve been waiting
> eventually GPS cuts out
> but I keep driving
> let instinct guide me
> and finally, I see it
> not a town
> just a clearing
> fog swirling like it’s breathing
> and in the center:
> the shack
> fresh
> rebuilt again
> waiting

> walk inside
> railroad spike in hand
> everything is still
> like time’s been paused for me
> bed is made
> mirror on the wall
> candles lit, even though I didn’t light them
> air smells like iron and lavender
> and it is there
> sitting in the corner
> cant see its form
> just a shadow in a shadow
> keeps flickering, like static trying to take shape
> sometimes it looks like grandma
> sometimes like me
> sometimes like something with *no face at all*
> it speaks, but not with a mouth
> just a voice inside my skull
> scraping at my thoughts
> “You carried me. You fed me. You remembered. Now finish it.”
> “Give me a name.”
> I laugh, not sure why but maybe because
> because I finally get it
> it’s not just haunting me
> it’s part of me
> I brought it back
> not because I was brave
> not because I was chosen
> but because I listened
> when I should have run
> when I gave Cora her name
> I made space for something else
> a hollow
> a vacancy
> and now it wants to fill it

> “What happens if I do?”

9/?

>>40630126

> it smiles
> I don’t see it smile, I feel it
> like warm blood running over my spine
> “Then we are one. And the hunger stops.”
> “For a while.”
> spike in hand
> feel it heat up
> iron still hurts it
> but pain isn't enough anymore
> it feeds on identity
> on recognition
> it wants a name
> and names give *power*
> so I give it one
> but not my name
> not grandma’s
> not Cora’s
> just a word that means **nothing**
> gibberish
> a void
> “Your name is 'Null.”

> thing recoils
> screams without sound
> shack starts collapsing
> walls rot instantly
> mirror cracks and leaks black smoke
> the shape flickers
> tries to latch onto me
> but the word holds
> “Null”
> an absence
> a non-being
> not real
> not remembered
> not named

> everything goes dark
> wake up on the forest floor
> trees around me normal
> birds chirping
> sky blue
> sun rising
> walk back to the car
> no weird shadows
> no whispers
> for the first time in years
> it’s gone

> go home
> real home
> house is still there
> grandma’s room untouched
> her photo still on the dresser
> back to a life I thought was lost
> but sometimes
> when I dream
> I see a mirror
> and something behind it
> something flickering
> something without a face
> scratching the glass
> trying to remember

> but it can’t
> because it has no name

> and I don’t speak it

10/10

virus in this thread bros don't open

Good thread, kinda spooked me last night

>>40630059
>(image not related)
I don't think so

>>40629870 (OP)
good thread bro gave me a lil spook

Great story! Isn't "The Hollowing" kind of a name though? Or maybe it's fine he called it that since it wasn't aware, or it's more of a title, or something

>>40629870 (OP)
>living in a tiny town in Alabama
Stopped reading there. Too horrifying to continue.

good thread

>>40630145
Good thread OP, very entertaining. Reading this I felt a bit like in the earlier days of internet, when real people used it.

>>40629870 (OP)
Imagine taking your dick out and nutting over this creature

>>40629870 (OP)
finally some OC

>>40633333
holy quints
based horny anon

Holy shit, great image. I don't even remember the last time I was spooked by a picture. Maybe at 8-10 years old? 35 this year and OP image is fucking unlocking some core memory of being a naive kid and feeling some of that primordial fear.

Please anon write this as a novel or short story. Unrelated but funny to me:
> be me, nerd
> chuckle at faceless being being defeated by dereferencing NULL
> anon did you really segfault that being?

Nice greentext... too bad that it's clearly fake( and corny as hell too)

>>40633333
Witnessed

classic shit. the first half of this is really great stuff. preferred the cora story to the second half but atmosphere was good even if the null bit felt a little anime. you should tell more stories

Cool story

This is the only /x/- feeling post on x
10/10

>>40633333
:|

>>40635266
I don't think so, /x/ isn't just for scary greentexts

Test

>>40629870 (OP)
good creepypasta but I feel like you could've ended after 5, I dont think the story need the whole like second arc.

>>40635725
im sorry anon but you cant argue with those digits.

>>40630024
>>40630126
Where are these images from? This one >>40630126 is especially disturbing.

>>40635807
/x/ used to be filled with wayyy more alien and monster stories like this before the the dumbass psuedo scizho threads about crystals, religion and holu calendar dates took over.