When I awoke, my first thought was that I should have brushed my teeth the night before. My mouth was sticky with tar and the filth of sleep. I opened and closed my jaw regretfully, smacking my tongue as I did so. That was when I noticed the bump that had formed on the roof of my mouth. I chalked it up to poor dental hygiene and tried to put it from my mind.
But, as is so often the case when we try to ignore something, the bump kept interposing itself on my thoughts. My tongue would touch the welt of its own accord, morbid fascination overpowering self-control. By nightfall, it had neither reduced in size nor become any easier to ignore, so I took a closer look.
Shining a flashlight at a mirror, I was able to put a face to the annoyance. It was, as I’d surmised, little more than a red bump on the roof of my mouth. It was smaller than it felt and reminded me of nothing so much as a zit. The idea repulsed me, but lacking a better explanation, this is what I regarded it as.
The damned thing kept me up at night and distracted me during the day, while seeming to grow ever larger. It took on a whitish hue and seemed to be filling with some fluid- mucus perhaps, though I could think of it only as pus. After the third day, I’d had enough. Reaching my fingers into my mouth, I felt around for the bump. It was slimy and seemed to slide from my probing, but I eventually seized it between two nails and squeezed until the membrane burst.
There was an awful foulness in my mouth, like decay, and I spat and rinsed it away as best I could. A portion of the blister’s contents had stuck to my forefinger and I saw it was a cloudy, murky white stained by an off-yellow hue. More a gel than a liquid, I wiped it off in disgust at what had been pooling in my mouth.
Less than a month later, it returned. The same spot had swollen up during the night and it looked whiter than ever, with bare redness at its inflamed edges. There was no pain, just a curious numbness and I disposed of it as I had the first. Still unable to get past the zit comparison, I wondered if maybe I wasn’t doing myself some harm by not allowing it to heal on its own. When it returned in a couple weeks, I resolved to just let it be.
I scrubbed my mouth day and night, but the canker grew. My tongue touched it in horrified disgust, but still I restrained myself. When it had nearly tripled its original size, my resolve crumbled. I got the flashlight once more and yawned wide into the mirror. I found the bump had become a hemisphere nearly an inch long. It was pasty white except for where veins throbbed across it. The membrane was taut with the ooze within and at its center, there was a black dot.
As I lowered the flashlight, the mirror showed me that the dot grew larger as the light receded and I had to choke back the bile that rose to my lips. I took the sharpest knife I had and stabbed the eye growing in my mouth, feeling only numbness as it, staring silently at me, burst.
A mysterious doll possessed by the spirit of a child has captured the curiosity of people across Japan for decades. The legendary Okiku doll, named after the girl who long ago used to play with it, is a 40-centimeter (16-in) tall kimono-clad figure with beady black eyes — and hair that grows.
The Okiku doll has resided at the Mannenji temple in the town of Iwamizawa (Hokkaido prefecture) since 1938. According to the temple, the traditional doll initially had short cropped hair, but over time it has grown to about 25 centimeters (10 in) long, down to the doll’s knees. Although the hair is periodically trimmed, it reportedly keeps growing back.
It is said that the doll was originally purchased in 1918 by a 17-year-old boy named Eikichi Suzuki while visiting Sapporo for a marine exhibition. He bought the doll on Tanuki-koji — Sapporo’s famous shopping street — as a souvenir for his 2-year-old sister, Okiku.
The young girl loved the doll and played with it every day, but the following year, she died suddenly of a cold. The family placed the doll in the household altar and prayed to it every day in memory of Okiku.
Some time later, they noticed the hair had started to grow. This was seen as a sign that the girl’s restless spirit had taken refuge in the doll.
In 1938, the Suzuki family moved to Sakhalin, and they placed the doll in the care of Mannenji temple, where it has remained ever since.
Nobody has ever been able to fully explain why the doll’s hair continues to grow. However, one scientific examination of the doll supposedly concluded that the hair is indeed that of a young child.
Good page to follow on facebook for ghosts, horror, and other creepy stuff
Gozu (Ox-head), also known as Cow Head, is a Japanese urban legend about a fictional story called 'Cow Head'.
Supposedly the Cow Head story is so horrifying that people who read or hear it are overcome with fear so great that they tremble violently for days on end until they die.
One variation involves a teacher who tells a bored group of school children the story, resulting in both children and teacher becoming catatonic and losing their memory.
Other variations include the detail that no one is able to retell the story since they die after hearing it.
The Cow Head story was rumored to be an unpublished piece from sci-fi writer Sakyo Komatsu, but there is no evidence to link the author to the legend.
A Ukrainian folktale called Cow’s Head does exist, about a woman who receives good fortune by offering food and shelter to a disembodied cow’s head that visits her one night,
There is also a 2003 film called Gozu, directed by Takashi Miike, neither of which are linked to the urban legend.
sorry i haven’t been updating, i have been struggling with depression, but i’m a bit fine for today
I’m making a little list of scary stuff for those who don’t want to sleep tonight. No [untagged] jumpscares, promise.
Let us start with the most popular scary stories which actually had an impact, though small, on me and my iron nerves:
So according to the story posted on reddit, the person who called this number experienced some very traumatizing things. Basically it’s a number that asks you if you would like to “remodel” and basically kills the person you choose to “remodel”.
At the end the guy himself was scheduled for “remodeled”
I thought it was some sort of stupid, urban legend someone made up to get attention but then I read through the comments, and the people who actually called the number faced the same thing.
I’m going to remain skeptical and say it’s just a plumbing/electric company and people are just hyping it up.
But I can’t know for sure. Nor do I have the guts to actually call the number.
Are you guys brave enough?
Now i know what to give an asshole if they ask for my number
^THAT WAS THE MOST PERFECT RESPONSE TO MY POST.
R.I.P SIXPENCEEE BECAUSE I JUST DIED
but in all seriousness, here are some testimonials thus far people have given me
If you call this number you will hear exactly as the story says, that’s a guarantee.
But like I said in the beginning of the post I’m pretty sure it’s just a set up, so don’t worry guys.
Never the less, this really scared me.
DAMN for a joke, this guy put SO much effort into it. 10/10, best horror prank ever.
Also I found out the original writer has a tumblr
Send him some love for this perfect creepiness.
by reddit user badfakesmiles
I guess I have moved on enough to tell this story.
One night, while I was preparing dinner, I left my mom to sit on the rug and watch T.V.
My daughter, Ariel, was 7 months old at that time, and was sleeping upstairs in her crib. When I left the kitchen to invite…