“I Feel Fantastic”

Tara the Android, a robot with a blonde wig, moves around creepily and sings, “I feel fantastic,” over and over again. There are TONS of theories behind this, including one where the video’s creator is a murderer, and this doll is wearing the victim’s clothes. Um, THE FUCK?

—Alyssa Cass, Facebook

Link to video


I don’t generally post my work to this blog but I actually did something really cool over the past four weeks in my special effects makeup class.
Basically my idea was a rejected Disney character from the steamboat willie era, whose creator sold his soul to bring her to life and she’s been roaming the basements at Disney studios for almost 90 years.

((For @sixpenceee 🙃🙂🙃🙂))

The Edge

When I was growing up, I always thought life was like a video game. I did everything I could to keep up the illusion: doing homework was like completing a quest, talking with friends was like navigating branching dialogue trees with NPCs, and making it to the podium at graduation was like killing the final boss.

I kept these fantasies to myself and didn’t think much of them until little details started standing out. Sometimes I’d be walking along a trail in the woods and my eyes would gravitate towards a tree that looked just a bit blurrier than the others. Other times I’d be talking with my parents and the conversation would seem off, as if their responses were just vague enough to make sense if I had said something else.

“Mrs. Bainbridge gave us way too much work tonight!” I’d argue. “Homework is important, son,” Dad would say. “There’s no way I can finish this project on top of baseball practice!” I’d yell. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Dad would say.

I grew skeptical. I started testing the universe to make sure it was real. One by one, the pieces of the puzzle that I thought I had solved became detached. One afternoon, I punched my best friend Aidan straight in the teeth. His face recoiled a bit, but then snapped back into place, his big smile unfazed.

“Want to play Smash later?” Aidan said immediately after, grinning from ear to ear.

The next day, I tried to get my parents to say my name.

“Come down for dinner, honey!” Mom called. “How was your day, sport?” Dad asked. “Elbows off the table, dear,” Mom said.

This went on for the rest of the night. I couldn’t remember the last time my parents ever said my name.

Looking back on it, I should have just accepted it. It wasn’t hard to live my life as the game intended. I could have been happy if I had drowned out all the red flags. It’s too late for that now.

Yesterday, or at least I think it was yesterday, I decided to push the game to its limits. Right before school I stole my mom’s keys, got in her truck, and drove. It didn’t matter where I was going, so long as it was somewhere new.

Eventually, the road got less familiar. I was entering the wilderness. In a half-hour, I had reached the city limits, beyond the thick canopy of trees that isolated our town from the outside world.

Except…there was nothing. The road ended there. The land just stopped. Everything was blue. Up, down, and out into the endless expanse. It was all blue.

I stood there on the precipice, wondering what my life had been up until that moment. I wondered what it could be. I took my first step into the blue unknown. I started to fall.

In those final seconds, the scariest thing I could imagine was living a life that someone else had chosen for me.

But now?

I’m still falling.


“5 movies that define me (part 4)”

1. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) dir. John Hughes

2. The Breakfast Club (1985) dir. John Hughes

3. Easy A (2010) dir. Will Gluck

4. Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003) dir. Quentin Tarantino

5. The Roommate (2011) dir. Christian E. Christiansen

Creepypasta #1077: Look, Up In The Sky!

Length: Short

When I was growing up, I pretended to be a superhero once in a while. Didn’t every kid? It was fun to daydream about accidentally gaining superpowers, then to imagine yourself flying around and shrugging off bullets while punching out bad guys. Unfortunately, when it actually happened to me, my powers didn’t come from radioactive bites, freak lab accidents, or mutant genes.

No, it was the cape. The damned cape.

The cape fell from the sky inside a meteor. Although nowhere near the scale of a dinosaur-killer, the rock was still a big one, and even after smashing into the desert it was surprisingly intact. My team went to investigate the site, and we had just started taking preliminary measurements when the meteorite split apart like an egg. There in the center was a scrap of cloth.

I can’t explain why I tried to touch it. I just knew the cloth was calling to me. As I reached out my gloved hand, the crackle of the Geiger counter faded away, and the warning cries from my team became muted, like sounds heard underwater.

Then the cloth pounced. In an instant, it curled around my wrist and pierced my hazmat suit, and time seemed to stop as it touched my bare skin. I felt it raiding my memories, absorbing everything it found. Then it slithered up my arm, wormed its way around to my back, and embedded itself into my shoulders.

At that moment, I became the world’s first real superhero.

It’s been a pretty good gig so far. I’ve stopped thousands of criminals and saved many more lives. I tackled natural disasters, then graduated to stomping out terrorists and warlords and evil dictators. The cape’s power is unlimited. Nothing can stop me.

But all along, the cape has guided my actions. Through our bond, I learned it was created billions of years ago by aliens who hoped to spread peace throughout the galaxy, and with me as its tool, it has accomplished this goal here on Earth.

The trouble is, the cape is growing restless. Since its sole objective is peace, and peace has come, its only option now is to broaden its definition of peace.

For instance, the people of this city are currently throwing me a parade. But the cape thinks their noise is not peaceful. It longs to quiet them. And that little girl, throwing confetti? That girl is littering. Littering is a crime. My burning eyes tell me the cape hungers to slice her apart with my heat vision.

Every day it gets harder to restrain the cape’s urges. I would destroy the damned thing if I could, but I can’t. It won’t allow me. All I can do is smile and wave, while inside I’m thinking obsessively about the meteor which brought the cape to Earth.

The cape prevents me from telling anyone, but I know the truth.

That chunk of rock was all that remained of the last world the cape visited.

Credits to: IPostAtMidnight