nyuuzyou/wikis huggingface dataset:
It's Called Creepypasta for a Reason

So, I'd bet that next to everyone that knows of Creepypasta just think it's a silly name.... well they're wrong.
Let me set the scene for you; it's 1154. Everything is extremely simple in life, and now we made the first pasta ever. Its the very first piece of pasta made, but who made it? Well he is known by the name "The Creepy Pasta Maker" because he was a pasta maker. But pasta was made differently when it was new. And don't worry I'll get to that. But the Creepypasta maker stalks people, much like other urban legends. But he is the worst of them all.
What the Creepypasta maker did was stalk a random victim, and then got them ready. He got people ready by scaring them in any way possible, but without showing his face. First thing he does is start using anything that has to do with food in, all when you're in bed trying to sleep.
Then the next morning you'll find food on your dinner table. But sometimes you just have missing food, nothing much. But then when he thinks you're ready he'll make you pasta and put it on your dinner table. When you go to sleep that night he will wake you up and butcher you. Then he will make you into pasta. And no one would be the wiser. And he stalks people to this day.
I'll give more info about The creepy pasta maker as I learn more of him.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:EVIL FOOD
Category:Old Shit
Category:Shortpasta
It's Just a Game

Derek was an ordinary man. He had many friends and was Making more. Though when he was younger, both he and his brother loved video games. They would play all day and through the night of they could, but no longer. They were grown men, well at least Derek was.
But soon, his brother followed. It was surprising for Derek to find out that his brother was getting married. His older brother never seemed to give up games for anything. He sent most of his games to friends, but gave Derek his DS.
It has been years since Derek had held a game console and the feeling was somewhat odd. He had no games, so he went out looking for some. Since he didn't care of the quality he went looking around in at yard sales.
After a couple of hours, he found a whole box of Game Boy and DS games. Derek thought it was a good deal and bought them all.
At home, he looked through this box. It had everything from Mario to Sonic. While looking, he found a game with no label. It didn't look like the label was torn off. It looked like it was never there.
That didn't matter. It's just a game. He had other games to play. But as much as he tried, he couldn't get back into games again. After an hour or two, he looked at the blank cartridge.
The game had no title, it just said press start. Then he saw the profile screen. The game only had one profile and it was used. He saw the picture and the face there seem familiar. He didn't care. He overwrited the profile. It asked him three times if he was sure. It felt weird pressing yes the third time. Menacing really.
Then it went to a new screen. It prompted him to make a new character. It was a long time since childhood and his imagination was gone, so he made the character look just like himself and called Derek.
It was a life sim, something he never was into before, but for some reason, he felt compelled to keep playing.
He kept playing and didn't stop after the night. He wanted to stop but he couldn't stop playing. He started to lose himself, not in a way of madness, but he lost control of his mind. It grew darker as he played. It's just a game.
Brady noticed that Derek was missing two days later when he went to his house. He was nowhere to be found.
After the investigation, Brady got his DS back. He noticed the cartridge had no label. He turned on the game. He saw Derek's profile. The picture looked just like. All well, it's just a game.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Vidya games
Category:YOU'RE NEXT
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
It's Just a Rumor... Right?

There was once an old mansion two blocks away from my childhood home that I used to live in back in San Francisco. Nobody had ever lived in that mansion, or at least not since my first memory of the place.
It was built before I was born. I was around six or seven when I heard a rumor that it was haunted, but I was never really interested in haunted houses or ghosts at that time.
Yet, I was curious about whether it was true or not.
Every day for a number of years, I walked by that mansion (Of course, I wouldn't just stroll by that mansion without a legitimate reason. I'd walk by to go to the store and other places.), and every time it piqued my curiosity.
I was still skeptical at age fourteen, but by that time I had gotten interested in the paranormal. I never believed it was haunted or anything, but I did wonder why it was never demolished. As the days went by, my dreams were becoming unusual.  I kept seeing myself murdering other people for absolutely no reason; friends, families, strangers.
There was this one dream that scared me the most. I dreamt about a fair that was going on in my school. Students, teachers, and parents were there, having fun. I thought I would finally have a "normal" dream, but I was mistaken. I had a thirst for blood.
In the dream, I was looking for the bus driver. When I finally found him, I asked him to follow me, because we needed to talk about something.
I brought him to a parking lot behind the school and told him to get in an unlocked car that was in front of us. As he entered the car and closed the door, I showed him a small remote with a single, large button on it, and pressed it. I smiled, stepped backward a few paces, and watched him scream as the car exploded. I proceeded to walk away and acted as if nothing had happened.
I saw my friends and a teacher with a radio listening to the announcer saying, "This just in. A man was killed in an explosion in an elementary school parking lot. He was in a car when a bomb planted in the engine went off, completely obliterating him."
I faked a look of concern and said "Well, that's just sad..."
I awoke from that dream, wide eyed and terrified. "Why is this happening?" I thought. I realized that it was 1 A.M and decided to lie down and rest, and try to calm myself.
"It was only a dream." I said to myself.
A few minutes later, I started to get hot, so I kicked my blankets off of me. By the time I was nearly asleep, I felt my blanket being pulled up to my face. I sat up immediately, throwing the covers off.
I then saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked at a light coming from underneath my closed door and saw shadows moving around. There were no sounds of footsteps. Scared, I covered myself with my blanket and had hoped that it was a dream. It wasn't.
When I woke up, I felt calmer. Strange, I thought. When I walked by the mansion on my way to school, it was being demolished.  Ever since then, my dreams became a lot less strange.
"It's just a rumor... right?"
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Dreams
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Old Shit
It's Not Real

Hello... my name isn't important... but what I do is. I'm a killer. I've killed for at least a year. I can't stop... it's exhilarating, seeing someone dead. The feeling of excitement just rushes over me. Picking a victim is fun too. Though, no matter who I pick, they never fight back. I wonder why...
It seems so odd. They just sit there... doing nothing, while I kill them. Do I intimidate them? Or is it something more...? Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Because when I kill, I know I'm in control. Hell, I'm a God!
Or... was, a God. Until a simple sentence broke my dream world... when my mom told me: "Jimmy, stop playing with your dolls. It's not real life."
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Old Shit
Category:Shortpasta
It's Not Yours

Hello all. My name is Kellan. I used to be a person who donated blood, until a nightmare struck me before donating blood.
It was a hot night, I tossed and turned all night. I saw me in a bed with a tube wrapped around my arm. As I was about to give the pint before my nurse turned to me an said, "This blood isn't yours sweetheart."
At this point in my dream, I questioned the nurses integrity. I pricked myself with a safety pin that was on my bag and a infant boy started to bleed out.
I then realized what I was. I was a human voodoo doll. I mean it was destiny, earlier the boys mom said that I was a spitting image of her son. All the while I became skeptical while the nurse said "it's not yours!!" the little kid died in his mothers arms all because I pricked my finger.
It has been a year since that night and I still haven't given blood.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Dreams
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Well, that was pointless.
Category:Old Shit
Category:Shortpasta
It's Quiet

It's 9:00 PM, and your house is so dark aside from the dim glow of your laptop screen.
So peaceful and quiet, almost enough to fall asleep.
But it's not quiet enough to hear the footsteps.
Not quiet enough to have heard your neighbor's screaming 20 minutes ago.
Not quiet enough to hear your front door opening.
Not quiet enough to hear his shallow breathing.
Not quiet enough, to save you from the actual cannibal, Shia Labeouf.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:WHAT A TWIST!
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Memes
Category:Shortpasta
It's War

Conker didn't like war, in fact he hated it. But anytime he open his eye's war was all around him. Conker wiped his face. It was caked with dust blood and dirt. There was an exploshen he winced. He felt his bone's shudder from the mine that had detonated only a few meter's from his position. "Damn" He said. This wasn't what he had signed up for. He never did sign up he remembed. "That SHC bastard!" He spat. He had knocked him out! He had been thrown into this senario before he could get his revenge. Normally he would of gone to kill/fight his foe. But this...was diffrent he had seen zombies, huge bugs, cave men, and even weseals! He had seen war before but now his enemy was armed. He had fought cave men with weapons but these were primative. He gagged as he remembed the terrible smell of flesh leaving bone. Conker's blood red fur blackened "S***!" He cryed! The skorch had come from a tediz sniper rifle. "Damn tediz" Conker said "If only I had started killing this things before.
Conker kept crawling bullets pinged off the ground near him. He cursed as a bullet landed only inch's away. He scramblede up to the roundevoz point. He ran faster then he ever did before. His face turned from relif to fear. He saw his friends all of his fellow soldiers dead. Spread across the beach there blood had made the sand red. He gazed at them for a little while. He shuddered and prayed for those who had died in the charge. He sadly truged foward finding only 1 surivor. He sprinted to meet him. "Look who joined the party." He said to himself. Conker asked "Whats the plan?" the soldier ducked and rolled and said "We blow the place!" "How?" Conker said. But he got no reponce because the SHC soldier...was dead. Conker saw who got him some tediz in the sniper tower. He seached his body soaking his hands in blood. He found a pair of UZI's and a cigar. He lit the cigar popped it in his mouth and loaded his UZI's. He blew the lock on the door. And proceded into the base. He dashed threw the hallway shooting tediz as he went. There yellow blood colored the hallways in a bloody masterpiece. Conker felt sick this was horrible But he reminded himself that they were not friendly. He felt blood seeping from were a bullet had exited his arm. The pain was imense he clenched his teeth but contined on. He saw some tediz docters he fired. He felt pain in his other arm, he saw a siringe fall to the floor. His vision tunneled. He started gasping for breath. He saw bullets tear threw the docter's hitting a fuse. It lite. He fell to the ground. His vison started blacking out. Turning his head with all the energy he had, he glaced were the fuse lead. It was a pile of explosive's enough to blow the island. "Ahhh." He thought vaguely. "Weve won." A large exploshon destroyed the island. It was never seen again.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Vidya games
Category:Pointless Violence
Category:English Class Failure
Category:Stuff Blowing Up
Category:Old Shit
It's a Me, Mario (Copypasta)

Here you can see Mario being sad while sitting on stairs, but something is weird, cuz It's raining inside you can literally see the stairs inside the building, it's Mario's imagination, he is sick he got Schizophrenia, I feel bad for him Mario didn't have a good life like regular people had, Mario is suffering from Schizophrenia, he is screaming but none can hear him, internal screams from the inside, he actually committed suicide once, but unfortunately he can't die he Respawned, Mario is immortal... living for eternity, also in fact Luigi isn't real, it's all made up inside Mario's mind, nothing is real he is crying because he knew everything around him is fake, he keeps saying... 'it's a me Mario'... his real name is Luigi de marcos... he keeps saying that he's Mario but he's not... he even put on a hat with the letter M on it, fucked up reality. That's it.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Copypasta
Category:Wall of Text
Category:Mario
Category:Shortpasta
It's after me, and I can't stop it

I've fled my hometown, changed my number and stolen a 2018 Ford Fiesta, but nothing seems to be working. I uninstalled the Duolingo app 5 days ago, but I still get the notifications demanding me to learn Spanish. On the third day, I heard a window downstairs break and found a brick on the floor. There was a note tied to it saying, "Your time is almost up. Learn the fucking mexican words or else". I don't have the work ethic to dedicate the effort to learn the language, and just accepted my fate. But the next day, when I found the brakes in my car removed after causing a minor accident at a nearby intersection, I realized that I'm afraid to die. In that very moment, I received another notification saying, "It's too late for practice now. Speak the Spanish all you want, I will make sure of tu muerte". I then turned around to see what I swear was a mass of neon green feathers dart behind a tree. I did not sleep that night, and I'm thankful for it. A few hours after I went to bed, the owl appeared in my window, but quickly fled after I drew my firearm from my nightstand. That's when I decided it was time to leave, and later stole a car parked down my street. But I know that my fate is sealed. Because every second I'm not running, he's only getting closer. The notifications from the deleted duolingo app have been getting progressively darker and more sinister. The last one didn't even ask me to practice learning my language. It was just the owl asserting to me that he is God. I know I'll die soon. I've accepted it. Yet I'm still upset that my life has to end because of my inability to learn Spanish.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Copypasta
Category:Wall of Text
Category:I CAN HAZ TRANSLATION?
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Shortpasta
It's been exatcly a day since we thought those Fuckin' reds have won, but as the saying goes, give out don't give in, so the fight isn't over yet

This is the story of Stalin. The reds are the communists of you couldn't figure that out. I remember when i was one my computer. I was MA-STUR-BAT-ING until I saw "Stalin.exe". I was gonna play but my knowledge of the internet told me that it was not very wise to ply any .exe games. I thought it'd be hilarious to send it to my friend Tom. He was such a Sonic moron and he wouldn't buy call of duty like every other 21 y/o. I thought I'd put the game on a disk, change the name to SONIC.exe, and write so shittly to the point where hand-writing was unrecognizable! I stopped talking to him for 2 weeks so he'd get worried. After 2 weeks I wrote him a letter.
"Tom,
I can't take it anymore, I had to get rid of this thing somehow before it was too late, and I was hoping you'd do it for me. I can't do it, he's after me, and if you don't destroy this CD, he'll come after you too, he's too fast for me....
Please Tom, destroy this god-forsaken disc before he comes after you too, it's too late for me.
Destroy the disc, and you'll destroy him, but do it quick otherwise he'll catch you. Don't even play the game, it's what he wants, just destroy it.
Please...
Kyle"
I bet he's gonna play the game and see a penis or something. When he calls me he's gonna freak the fuck out! I'm gonna laugh my ass of! That's exactly what I said before he appeared. Stalin, but a bit different. He looked like the fucking slender man, but you can still tell it's him. He was weezing heavly, telling me that I kicked him out of his final resting place. "Final resting place? The game?" I asked. "Yes you dick, the game!" Stalin replied. He told me I had to find a .exe file for him to haunt or else he'd chop of my cock. He's Stalin you know. I found something he would like, "America.exe".
He was happy. He thanked me and summoned a magical device that would give me 9 billion dollars a day. I instantly got my 9 million dollars, told Staling goodbye, and went off to the store to buy out an entire Walmart. The last thing he said was "The reds will win tomorrow!, Communism is love, Communism is life!"
It's been exatcly a day since we thought those Fuckin' reds have won, but as the saying goes, give out don't give in, so the fight isn't over yet.
America.exe had killed Stalin and deleted it's self like killswitch so I couldn't see anything or play it. But hey I got a magical fucking device that gives me 9 billion a day, so who gives a fuck, right? Oh shit Tom! Oh I think he might have gotten killed by Sonic! Yeah he's dead. Oh well!
Category:File Extensions
Category:Blatant Ripoffs
Category:Sonic
Category:LONG ASS TITLE
Category:English Class Failure
Category:Excessive Profanity
Category:Well, that was pointless.
Category:Trollpasta
It's in My Doorway

I lie awake in the middle of the night. Skin drenched in a cold sweat from the fear coursing through my veins. The heavy breathing coming from the hallway is all I can hear. I don't dare look at what is making the rhythmic sound for I know it can't be good.
Will my life end tonight? Will my flesh be ripped from my bones and my mangled body be found miles from my house, thrown out like yesterday's trash?
I'm living second to second. With each breath I feel closer and closer to death. I'm frozen with an overwhelming sense of dread. I know I should try and escape the confines of my room, but I haven't the courage or the energy. I feel strapped down to my bed with an invisible force, draining me of all energy. My silent words are of no use and go unheard in the unending darkness of night.
I'm overwhelmed with the unknown at this point. I'm forced to turn my head right and face my attacker. As I do the breathing deepens as if excitement has flourished within the beast.
I see darkness. I see my worst nightmares and my karma that has been slowly building over my lifetime. I see the rage in its eyes and the eagerness of ripping me apart. He's evil, pure evil. His hair in crimson curls covers his body, but it's his eyes. His bulging eyes tower over his skull. They pierce through my mind and read every vile thought.
He lunges towards me with all his might and I am still frozen with fear. His hands reaching ever so close that I can feel what's about to come.
It's those two words he speaks as I reach for his stomach that cause my stomach to churn. I squeeze with all my might as his words echo throughout the night:
"That tickles". I succumb to his torture as I am riddled with laughter from his endless tickles. I feel wet warmth pour down my legs and I vomit all over his crimson curls.
I died tonight. From the tickles of the evil crimson doll that is... ELMO.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Beings
Category:WHAT A TWIST!
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Shortpasta
Category:Originally on r/shittynosleep
It's scary... what you'll do for your kids

"Dad?"
I rolled my eyes. Once again Jane, my 20-year-old daughter, wanted to draw my attention away from the important things I had going on in life.
"You know how since mom died six years ago, you've never cooked me a meal, done any laundry, took me to school, held a conversation?"
"What's your point Jane? I'm not your mother OK? Christ alive."
"My point is you're a terrible father."
"Oh fine, Jane. Fine. Boo hoo. Like it's so special to be a great father."
"No, dad, I don't care about that. I was going to say, because you're a terrible father, I was wondering if I gave you $50 would you kill somebody for me?"
Jane pulled out a cool, clean 50 bucks and waived it around in front of my eyes.
"Where did you get that money from Jane? Because if that's my $50 and all I'm doing is killing someone to get my own money back-"
"It's not your money, dad. I made it selling drugs, not that you care. Do you want it or not?"
"Sure, I'll take the job. Who's the target?"
"It's mom. She's not dead. She left you and now lives next door"
"What the fuck? Keep your dirty drug money Jane. I'll kill that scoundrel for free!"
After having said so I got up from the toilet and marched next door.
"Barbara, you liar. You told me you were dead. You're not dead."
"I was dead, David. I am dead." Replied Barbara my wife.
"Bullshit, Jane's just sent me round here to finish you off for $50. That doesn't make fucking sense if you're dead."
"That greedy little drug lord wants her inheritance money early that's all that it is. I'll give you two $50, otherwise known as $100, to flatten her face."
"Goddamit Barbara, if you're dead like you claim she'd already have her inheritance money. It doesn't make sense! I've heard enough. I'm killing you right now."
I put my manly hands around Barbara's delicate living neck and stopped her sucking in oxygen until her brain just literally gave up doing what it does.
Then I returned home and to the toilet.
"There Jane, it's done. Your mother is dead for real now. I hope you're happy."
It was in that moment I remembered that Jane had died last week when I reversed over her parking the car.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:DIALOGUE!
Category:WHAT A TWIST!
Category:Originally on r/shittynosleep
It's the mildew!

My best friend and I were hanging out playing scrabble when she up went to get a drink. I told her I wanted some iced tea. A few minutes later she came back with an odd look on her face and guess what? She handed me lemonade!
I told her I wanted iced tea and she said "you told me lemonade". So I just made it into an Arnold Palmer and kept playing.
Little while later we were playing, she kept making the words "I am" and then "the" and then "mildew". Weird. She didn't smell like mildew, but her bathroom sure did.
During that time is when she went to the bathroom. We had a lot of wine and she needed to pee. I waited for her to come back and noticed something else on the board. She had spelled "shittynosleep". what was she up to? I thought to myself.
Epiphany happened and I went on reddit and searched shittynosleep and found her post. It was about her being taken over by mildew and rotting in her house in the bathroom. I decided to check on her.
When I ran to the bathroom and found her. She was in the shower covered in the mildew. It had consumed her and the walls. It began spreading to the rest of the house. I haven't noticed that even the scrabble board was covered in mildew.
I turned around and saw her...what? She was staring at me saying "mildew...the mildew will get youuuuu".
You guys, I'm so scared. I'm hiding out in her garage typing this using her wifi and it may not last long. The mildew is coming. It's coming for me and for youuuuu!!!
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Inside Jokes
Category:Shortpasta
Category:Originally on r/shittynosleep