Uncanny Valley/Liminal Spaces/Urban Legends/Creepypastas

[Barry Poppins]

Carmen Winstead

Hi, my name is Carmen Winstead. I'm 17 years old. I am very similar to you. Did I mention to you that I'm dead? A few years ago, a group of girls pushed me down a sewer hole to try and embarrass me. When I didn't come back up, the police came. The girls said that I had fell and everyone believed them. The police found my body in the sewer. I had a broken neck and my face was torn off. Send this message to 15 people after you listened the whole message if you value your life. A boy called David received this message. He just laughed and deleted it. When he was in the shower he heard laughing. My laughter. He got really scared, rushed to his phone to repost this message, but he was too late. The next morning, his mom entered his bedroom and all she found was a message written in his blood saying "You will never have him back". No one has found his body yet because he is with me. A girl called Charlotte received this message and she immediately sent it to 25 people, 10 more than required. I still watch over every second of her life to make sure that she is safe and to keep her and everyone close to her out of danger. Send this to 15 people in the next five minutes if you don't want your fate to be the same as David's. Your time starts, now. The story is true, you can research it on Google.
​

---

Pretty iconic Web 1.0 copypasta meant to scare people into sharing the story, so enjoy.

 

[Barry Poppins]

Enjoy this incredible work by Jared Pike, the original creator of the "liminal pools" photos

 

[Barry Poppins]

​

The timber wolves around French Creek had gotten out of hand. There were so many wolves, the farmers could not stop them from killing their cattle and sheep. So the state put a bounty on them. It would pay a hunter $10 for every wolf pelt he turned in.

A butcher in town named Bill Wilson thought that was pretty good money, so he stopped working as a butcher and began killing wolves. He was quite the shot. He was good at it. Every year he killed over five hundred of them. That came to more than $5,000. It was quite a bit of money in those days.

After four or five years, Bill had killed so many wolves, there were hardly any left in that area. So he retired, and he vowed never to harm another wolf because wolves had made him rich.

Then one day a farmer reported that a white wolf had killed two of his sheep. He had shot at it and hit it, but the bullets didn't have any effect. Soon that wolf was seen all over the countryside, killing and running. But nobody could stop it.

One night, it even came into Bill’s yard and killed his pet cow. Bill forgot about his decision to never harm another wolf. He went into town the next morning and bought a young lamb for bait. He took it out into the hills and tied it to a tree. Then he backed off about 50 yards and sat down under another tree. With this gun in his lap, he waited.

When Bill didn't come back, his friends started looking for him. Finally they found the lamb. It was still tied to a tree. It was hungry, but it was alive. Then they found Bill. He was still sitting against the other tree, but he was dead. His throat had been torn open.

But there was no sign of a struggle. His gun hadn't been fired. And there were no tracks in the soil around him. As for the white wolf, it was never seen again.