Treeman Stories

Horror/Creepypasta one-shot

One scary Halloween night this grumpy man named Chance and he was the meanest grumpiest person in his neighborhood. No one liked him everyone was always having so much fun. Chance was watching all the kids playing outside and having fun he slammed his door in disgust. Chance always was mad. Chance always had nightmares about a doll named Mary she was so scary looking. She had long brunette hair and a long beautiful turquoise dress with blood stains. When he went to bed he had the scariest dream of all of Mary. Chance woke up early in the morning to make coffee. When he turned around to get a cup for his coffee he saw Mary. He tried to wake himself up but it wasn't a dream it was real. TO BE CONTINUED......

In a world were everything has now changed for the good a new evil is rising up to control all of mankind.

50000000,0000000,000000,00000,0000,000,00,0 atoms crowded in space when suddenly . A huge explosion took place, it created something awfully awesome, the earth. A powerful force blew the atoms deep down into a green land The force grew even stronger, and made them crash into a piece of wood. The wood made a big flash that shook the land The piece of wood started walking, talking and breathing

Hola the name's jimmy dean I just wanted to write this cuz I don't really write anything on here anyways. I JUST WANTED TO K!? I'm done talking about this I'm just gonna write the book, yabai.

A team is build little by little, so little did they know of their real destiny that they had to actually become a team and fight for justice and restore peace between the species while also reduce the evilness. They all start by one goal and then another appears. Will they stand a chance against evil? Will they reach all of their goals? Will they compromise as a team? Start reading to find out.

You happen across this handmade diary, bound in leather and held together by a simple strap. It had a smeared "M" on the front cover, and wasn't really in the best of conditions. The leather and pages of the book are tarnished by ash and soot, clearly worn down over the years. Once you free the book from the strap's tight hold, you are greeted with the first page, which read in printed out black font "эта книга принадлежит.." which quite roughly states who the book belongs to, with a line for the owner's name following. At first you see a sloppy name starting with an M, merely five letters long but taking up the entire line. The name is unintelligible, because over it in a darker colour of pen, black or dark blue, is the word, or rather name, Envy. The no-longer messy font is scrawled over the page in a large manner, as if they are trying to cover the old name. You then flip to the next page, and start with the first entry.

I was an actor. A performer. A dancer. An artist. One who excelled in the art of taking on intricate roles. I wore scripts like they were my cape. Embodied concepts like they were the blood in my veins. Brought the dreams of others into reality, spoke life into their fantasies. Made their desperate desire for perfection my persona. And trained my body to sway wherever their captivated eyes motioned. I was everything they wanted me to be and more. I was...A hero made perfect by and for the people.