7th June 2011

Post with 16 notes

Heed the Channeler

Heed the Channeler

Her warnings do not come needlessly. I brought this pain upon myself.
Fear was never something I gave in to, it was fun, exhillirating. Horror movies, psychological thriller novels, gorey comics, everything dark and twisted appealed to my morbid interest. For a while.
I would sit awake all night reading terrefying short stories online, scaring myself witless. But something didn’t seem right about the ones I was reading. They were real, somehow. Movies and books, games and everything else seemed to pale by comparison.
These stories were written by others out there, like me, and my blood ran cold to read them.
it was their experiences in other media that got to me. These people, awake all hours of the day and night, trying to tell their stories, who had been haunted and tortured by things unimaginable from the most unlikely sources. I couldn’t leave it alone. I had to know everything. Read them all, see them all.
Pokemon, the games notorious for their strange glitches, slightly upsetting themes and massive popularity amoung children in the 90s seemed to be the hive as it were. Everyone had, to some extent, been exposed to Pokemon at a young age. Nobody was blissfully unaware of the franchise.
But now it seemed, as those old pixelated worlds got update and re-released, some of the original “spirit” was lost.
In an attempt to go back to childhood and find it, lots of us picked up our ageing gameboy systems and went back to the old pokemon worlds. Most of us did anyway. Some lucky soulds found their battery had run dry or files had become corrupted. They were saved. The rest of us got sucked back in, and even fewer of us got back out.

My game began to glitch after defeating Sabrina. With the psychic type master defeated, an eerieness settled over everything. I remember Lavender Town and the pokemon tower, but nothing unusual happened there the first time.
A small trip back to grind levels a bit was when I got my first warning, and I didn’t even know it was one at the time.
“ZOMBIES!”
That Channeler would fight me every time I spoke to her. The others remained defeated after battle, but not her.
“ZOMBIES!”
“ZOMBIES!”
“ZOMBIES!”
It was a bit of an eerie glitch, but at the time it just ment extra training to me.

During this play through I kept reading the stories I found online. People were having serious troubles out there, or had some wild imaginations, some of them were quite unbelievable and badly written but they got points for trying.
Or so I told myself. Even the silliest stories rung true a little. There was something I wasn’t quite seeing. And I wanted to see it, desperately wanted to see and know everything about it.
I imitated the stories as they were. Captured the same pokemon where possible and gave them the same nicknames, in an attempt to bring out the horror a little more.
Because I was using these new ‘scary’ pokemon, my team was weaker than before and for the first time in this play through I blacked out.
The pokemon centre music played and the screen lit up again.
I was in the Pokemon Tower. That slow music crawling up my spine. Then the oh-so-familiar text box appeared:
“ZOMBIES!”

Accompanied by a crackly version of Ghastly’s cry.

I took to listening to the old soundtracks on my ipod on a daily basis. My whole world was paced along to the mourning marches of lavender town and tower, the burnt tower from Gen2 and even Hoenn’s Mount Pyre theme music.
It was slow, and soothing. The high frequencies made me feel a bit nauseous at first, but once I got sed to them they were very comforting.

Continuing to search online, there was a lot of talk of other people doing as I did to maufacture tortured pokemon, or testing the Lavender Town Syndrome theories. Those involved seemed evenly split between those who thought nothing bad would happen, and those who warned against it. There was a ‘channeler’ online. A random pokemon fanatic, I had no doubt, but there was something about him.. or her. Like the stories, the channeler was unbeliveable, but somehow completely legitimate.

Some nights, I couldn’t sleep anymore without some of my chosen pokemon music playing.
Some morning’s I’d wake up to my pillow covered in blood from a nosebleed, and crippling pain in my head. My soothing music made it subside though and kept the pain away.

In my game, things were going fairly normally. I’d taken to nicknaming new pokemon after groteque things or famous murderers and torture tequniques. I liked it that way.
By Cinnabar island, everyone that spoke to me just said:
“ZOMBIES!”
More and more were accompanied by the strange screaming noise. It sounded less and less like Ghastly the more times it played.
But I pressed on, fascinated, and I suppose, too far in to turn back by then.

The Channeler online would reply to questions ambiguously, and seemed to know a lot about pokemon. The Channeler in my game just said ZOMBIES. Perhaps that was all that was programmed in for her.

It was all she could say, but it was still a warning.

One day, I woke up and my ipod’s battery had run flat during the night. My face was sticky with blood and tears. My ears were ringing with varying cries of pokemon.

It was disorientating, I couldnt see, hear, anything. Nothing felt real, my body was tingly and numb. There was a person at the door of my room, someone I know.. or knew.. but can’t place. She stood completely still, staring at me, screaming. The world blurred as the ambulance came. The paramedics too, stood stalk still with their mouths hanging to their chests, screaming.

They still do it now. The doctors that come and go from the room never talk to me and I never see them talk to each other. Every day the same procession comes by, they stop at the end of my bed one by one and let their mouths hang open and scream and scream and scream.
I can’t leave this place.
The longer I stay here the more distinct each scream becomes. They are all cries of my pokemon. Every screamer that comes to me, howls with the pained cry of pokemon I willingly tortured.

They wont read what I write, and they wont look at my laptop screen when I’m allowed one. So, I can’t tell them what to do for me.
They just stand there, in front of me, beside me, next to me, and scream.

ZOMBIES

Tagged: pokemon creepypastacreepypastapokemonhorror

15th December 2010

Post with 22 notes

Flames of Life

Flames of Life

by *WarriorKloneomon on deviantart

Once I took a trip to the store,
Just to get groceries and nothing more.
But something caught my gaze,
It was a plush that stood out in the haze.
Charizard, the beast of flames,
They were prone to have those names.
I begged for it until my mom gave in,
I squeeled and threw the toy in our bin.

Once we arrived at our abode,
I switched into my creative mode.
Me and Charizard had many adventures,
In my room and yard to even the dish washers.
We both had so much fun,
Playing all day out in the sun.
But our absolute greatest plunder,
Is when I stopped to stare at him in wonder.

I noticed a slot in his back,
I unzipped it and found a pack.
It was filled to the brim with candy,
Well, wasn’t that quite handy?
Awfully hungry and completely wore out,
I thought to myself without a doubt:
Don’t want this candy to go to waste, hey,
Might as well eat this and call it a day!

Read More

Tagged: charizardpoempokemoncreepypasta

24th September 2010

Post with 6 notes

Don’t Look

by ~Nonparael on DeviantArt

This has always been a quiet town. As of late, it’s been quieter still. These days, people are reluctant to leave their homes.

It started off harmlessly enough. In fact, when it began, no-one would realise for quite some time that it even had. People began to suffer from increasingly severe headaches. Children were affected the most. My wife was one of the people affected, I myself did not notice any ill effect, and did not make the connection until much later.

I would guess that it was roughly a week after these headaches started, that anyone first noticed something was amiss. The first body found was a young boy, I couldn’t say for sure but I think he must have been only 12 years old at the most. Looked to be suicide.

That was just the start. From that point on, people started dropping like flies. Most fell into some manner of coma; some were suicides, as with the first case, while a small few seemed to have died outright, of no discernible cause.

What was more baffling still, was that there was little rhyme or reason to those affected, no common thread tying these people together.

Though concerned, of course, I had my own job to do, and thought I could do little else but leave the matter to those that were qualified to deal with it.

When I returned to my home not three days from the first death, however, I changed my mind.


- - -


I daresay whoever is reading this can guess at what awaited me. I would request your understanding that I do not wish to dwell long on this particular detail. Suffice to say, my wife was not waiting for my return, to greet me in our usual fashion, nor will be again.

I now had a personal stake in events, and understood all too clearly the terrible reality of the situation. With this, how could I possibly sit by and hope that someone else would resolve the situation? No, I had to do whatever I could.

The public, understandably, were quite reluctant to divulge any information to me. I cannot blame them for that. Slowly, I began to piece together the events of, by this stage, the last couple of months.

The first indication that something was wrong, I realised, was the headaches. These still persisted, and typically, when they were at their worst, someone would suffer in some fashion soon after.

However, those suffering from the headaches, and those that were dying or falling from consciousness, were two different groups. Sometimes overlapping, but it was still clear that one did not lead to the other. So rather than being the cause, I can only fathom that these headaches are a sign of the presence of whatever is doing this.

The second thing that caught my interest was the state of the victims. In almost every case, regardless of the eventual outcome, the victims show signs of self-inflicted injury. Even those patients that have survived, albeit remaining, still, unconscious, show signs of this.

The final piece of information that I have managed to gather, and the detail that has been by far the most difficult on which to persuade people to speak, is as follows.


Only 10 hours prior to the first death, erratic behavior was observed in a variety of electronic equipment. Key amongst these, in my opinion, are that through radio and other audio emitting devices, a heavy static and garbled noises have been experienced [Headaches seem to have been especially severe in those to have heard this.], and that there have been claims that a shadowy figure was seen crossing TV monitors, against a backdrop of static. Of the latter, I have only been able to gather second-hand accounts. Only a couple of months ago, I would have dismissed such fanciful tales, but with the town’s atmosphere as it is, with all those that have suffered, I find the idea that there is some connection to these events quite plausible.

It is only now, that I come to write this, that I realize that in the past few weeks, many of the people I have spoken to have left their TVS and radios switched off, unplugged, or seem not to own one at all.


- - -


I’ve seen it! The shadow they spoke of!

I was at the hospital, attempting to find out if they had observed any change in the comatose victims. My, I must profess, unsuccessful, attempts at interrogation were interrupted by a sudden, harsh burst of static. The nurse fled immediately, but I, instead, sought the source of the noise.

The screen that would normally display the patient’s vital signs was the culprit, now only a flurry of snow upon it. Against my better judgement, I did not avert my eyes, and so, continued to look on as I saw an indistinct, shadowy figure pass from one side of the screen to the other. Once it had passed, the noise subsided, and the original display slowly flickered back into view.

This is it, the cause of these events, I am sure of it. And now, having seen it. My fate. Is it, perhaps, the same?

You may be familiar with how, if you gaze upon a bright light, an image of its shape will remain once you close your eyes. That shadowy figure, in this manner, remains with me now, as I write this. It has not faded.

Worse, it does not remain still. Since I first saw it, the figure has imitated the first few steps of the figure I saw in the monitor. But now, I know, it has become aware of me, and is slowly turning in my direction.

If I could keep my eyes open, perhaps I would be safe, but everyone needs to blink. My eyes may only close for a fraction of a second; too briefly for me to even see how much progress that figure has made but I know, all the same, that it’s progress is unstoppable now. Perhaps if I took a longer look, the figure may not, by now, be quite so indistinct. Perhaps, if I had the courage, I might be able to offer some insight as to the identity of this killer. But I dare not. I do not know how close it is to me now.

I don’t know how much time I have left, but I must tell all I can, in the hopes that someone may succeed where I have failed.

You may have figured it out by now, you, who are reading this, but the injuries sustained by the previous victims…In almost all cases, the injuries were to the eyes. Some died in the attempt, but those who now lie in comas are the ones that succeeded in destroying their sight. Many that died showed signs of trying, as well, but I can only imagine they were not quite fast enough.

I…do not have the will to attempt it, I can only hope what I write here will, in some way, help to end this.

Do not look upon ANY manner of screen.

No matter what happens.

Do NOT look.

It’s close!

It’s he









- - -


‘Kadabra, Pokédex entry: Leaf Green – It emits special alpha waves from its body that induce headaches just by being close.’

‘Kadabra, Pokédex entry: Diamond – If one is nearby, an eerie shadow appears on TV screens. Seeing the shadow is said to bring bad luck.’

Tagged: pokemon creepypastapokemoncreepycreepypasta

Source: nonparael.deviantart.com

12th September 2010

Post with 13 notes

Gold’s Time of Dying

by *TriforceMythHolder on DeviantArt

Dying…

I am dying…

Please don’t leave me alone…

I want…one more chance with life…

Don’t worry…

I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU.

“Where am I…” Gold mumbled as he opened his eyes. There were five Unown dancing around him and laughing gleefully. The trainer bolted to his feet and stared at the five alphabet pokemon, wondering what they were so gleeful about.

L

E

A

V

E

“Leave?” Gold mumbled. He looked around, searching for an exit, but there didn’t seem to be any. With a shock, he realized he was not at home. This place was unlike any area he had ever seen before. He was fenced inside a large square with a tall pillar in the center. The Unown began to circle him, taunting him. Gold tried to recall how he got in this creepy place but his mind was blank.

Worried for his life, Gold checked his pokeballs. To his shock there was only one pokeball in his possession: his Cyndaquil. Normally he kept a whole team with him and his starter Cyndaquil had long evolved after he fought gym leaders. By the time he was a champion, it had become a Typhlosion. Pokemon don’t unevolve…so where did this Cyndaquil come from?

Maybe it was a baby of his Typhlosion. That had to be it.

Upon further investigation, Cyndaquil seemed to be on his last breath of life. Gold searched his pockets for any stamina medicine, but his bag was empty. This was odd…he always had at least twenty different potions and healing items in case of an emergency. Was this some kind of joke? Or was he robbed?

“I’ve got to get out of here…”

The Unown began to laugh again. Gold pressed Cyndaquil to his chest and looked around the room. The fence was entirely closed. There was no way in or out of it. Gold studied the pillar in the center and, to his biggest surprise, found a set of stairs behind it.

“Maybe I’ll find another way down…” Gold mused as he walked up them.

The Unown followed him, annoying him with their calls and their continuous lining up to spell out LEAVE. But what else was he suppose to do?

The room he entered was utterly dark. Thankfully he had a fire pokemon in his arms. He ordered Cyndaquil to use Flash and the room lit up. Gold screamed in terror.

The room was blood coloured. There were strange sounds coming from the hall in the south…like more Unowns. The room was a setting in hell itself, Gold figured. He turned to go back downstairs but the stairs had vanished.

“Just where am I?”

Gold grabbed his pokegear. The map function was always accurate and maybe a little music would help chase away the freaky sounds. But his pokegear was blank. There was no clock, no phone function and no radio. His map was blank and only showed three question marks, indicating the map had no idea where he was.

Scared out of his wits, Gold began to run. The Unown kept following him but he didn’t care. He had to get out of here…for his sake and Cyndaquil’s. His Cyndaquil was extremely weak and needed a doctor right away.

The more Gold ran. the darker the room became. Finally, he reached the end of the hall. To his disappointment, there was no stairs or door. Only a sign. Hoping it would give him a clue as to where he was, Gold read the sign.

TURN BACK NOW.

“Sure, I’d love to,” Gold grumbled. There was a loud rumbling sound and Cyndaquil uttered a weakened cry before going limp in Gold’s arms. A sudden pain gripped Gold and he screamed. The dark closed in…

When Gold awoke, there were six new Unown hovering over him. They seemed to be saying something…

H

E

D

I

E

D

“What? No!” Gold yelled. He tried to stand but he had no feeling left in his arms. The light suddenly came on and a sad melody began playing. The Unown helped Gold to stand and Gold looked down at himself. He realized why he had no feeling in his arms…because his arms were gone.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Gold yelled. “First I’m trapped and now my Cyndaquil’s dead and my ARMS ARE GONE! WHO’S SICK IDEA IS THIS?”

YOU MADE HIM USE FLASH WHEN HE WAS TOO WEAK

YOU KILLED HIM

Gold realized he appeared to be in a graveyard. Freaked out and wishing he had his arms back, he started to run around until he froze. Something was pulling him under. The dark moved in…

Red. Everywhere. Gold thought he was back in the blood red room from before, but he was wrong. This room looked like the first room he was trapped in, but so so red. He felt something wet drip from his eyes and attempted to rub his face on his sweater. To his shock, his legs were now gone as well and he had turned white. The liquid dripped off his face and into his sweater. It was red, just like everything else.

Gold realized he was crying blood.

Five new Unown swirled around him. They were followed by a red Celebi who flew up to Gold from the side. The five Unown lined up and Gold read what they spelled out.

D

Y

I

N

G

“I’m…dying…?” Gold guessed. The red Celebi nodded and faced him. Gold could hardly suppress a scream. The red Celebi seemed to be torn in half. One green eye stared at him, one hand pointed an accusing finger, one small foot kicked around in the air, supported by only one wing.

I SAID I WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU

NOW COME WITH ME

THERE IS SOMEONE WAITING TO MEET YOU

The red Celebi motioned for the Unowns to move so the five pokemon picked Gold up with their Hidden Power and started forward. Gold shuddered, feeling colder than he had ever felt in his life. He wondered who it was waiting for him.

At first Gold thought he was alone with only the pokemon around him. But as they ventured further down this creepy hall, they passed a bunch of mangled humans that were pale like Gold. They didn’t speak but they did follow Gold and the six pokemon with their hollow gazes. A sudden realization dawned on Gold. These people were all trainers…and famous ones at that. They were all either Champions or former Gym Leaders or members of the Elite Four. But no matter how much power you had in life, it doesn’t help you escape your inevitable death. And now it was Gold’s turn in hell’s waiting room.

He really was dying.

YOU SEE ALL THOSE TRAINERS THERE

THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE THE BEST

THEIR PARTNERS DIED ONE BY ONE

AND THEN IT WAS THEIR TURN

A figure stood up ahead. His back was to Gold and he was as pale and ghostly as the others were. The Unowns hovered behind Gold and the Celebi flew in front of him.

HE WAS MEANT TO BE THE BEST

AND HE WAS

UNTIL YOUR TIME CAME

The figure turned, revealing the legendary trainer Red. Gold stared at him in shock, seeing how much time could change a person. He first met Red on top of Mt. Silver so many years ago but that was when they were both young and powerful. Now they were long forgotten…

Without a word, Red sent out his Pikachu. It looked powerful but so sad and lost at the same time. Celebi hovered in front of Gold, awaiting an order.

I WILL MAKE HIM PERISH WITH MY SONG

Pikachu struck itself, lowering his speed but raising his offensive and defensive stats. Gold didn’t think it was possible for Pikachu to learn Curse but this wasn’t an ordinary battle.

“Perish Song.”

Pikachu ran at Celebi, striking the one side that was there but Celebi hardly flinched. The song was still in affect. Warily, Pikachu ran at Celebi again, putting all his sadness into one attack. Celebi recoiled, hardly holding on. But Celebi smirked and flew at Pikachu, stealing some blood from him and using it to heal itself.

“Pain Split…”

Pikachu shot a strange look at Celebi, making it freeze. The song came into effect and claimed Celebi first, making it vanish. Pikachu soon followed, fading out of existence. Who had won? Gold looked up in question at the boy who was once his idol and saw that Red no longer had a head.

The darkness came…

Gold opened his eyes to find himself back in his bedroom. He looked around, wondering if this was a joke but it was his actual room. His PC, radio and TV were all there. Had it all been a dream? He couldn’t wait to get downstairs and see Mom!

He tried to move but there was no feeling left in his body. Six new Unowns lined up and faced Gold with a freezing glance.

N

O

M

O

R

E

“No more…” Gold mumbled. “No more…” He looked down to see what the Unowns meant. His body was gone. All that remained of him now was a head. He, Gold, was soon to be no more.

The Unown made his head float and Gold reflected on how pitiful he seemed to be. This was the end of his life. Memories of his earlier years came flooding back to him. He wasn’t really an eleven year old boy, but an old man who had more than enough of life to satisfy himself. He had traveled through five regions in his life: Johto, Kanto, Hoenn, Sinnoh and Isshu and had collected eight badges from all regions, resulting in forty badges total. He became an idol to pokemon trainers everywhere. And now, at the end of his life, he was granted one last chance to go back to being an eleven year old boy and say good bye to everything.

His first pokemon was his Cyndaquil. It seemed fitting he got to see his old friend at the beginning again as well. Gold tried to smile but it was becoming painful to move. He let the Unowns lead him down the stairs and to the first floor. There was no Mom, of course. She had been dead for a long time. They went through the door into a world of darkness and didn’t stop until they found Gold’s body…as it was before this all started.

All arms. All legs. Normal colour. Gold looked upon his body sadly before whispering, “Good bye forever…Gold…”

It was time to go. The body vanished into the darkness. A haunting chill surrounded Gold and he heard an evil sounding laugh echo from all around him.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

IT’S YOUR FUCKING NIGHTMARE

He was back at the graveyard. The large grave he found himself in after Cyndaquil died turned out to be his own. He was no more. His head had vanished. He was truly a ghost of the past now. His badges were gone…presumably given to his family or buried with him and stolen by grave robbers. The gym leaders he won them from were all long dead as well.

Six new Unowns circled the ghost with a final message. Gold whispered his last words sadly before closing his eyes forever.

“I’m dead.”

REST IN PEACE GOLD.

Tagged: pokemon creepypastacreepypastafanfictionlost silverlost golddark pokemon

Source: fav.me