Transcrito
I'm Terrified of My Sister's POSSESSED Paintings - Scary Reddit Creepypasta
22 de oct. de 2024 ·
19m 59s
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I'm Terrified of My Sister's POSSESSED Paintings - Scary Reddit Creepypasta
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Descripción
A narration of the short story - 'My Sister’s Paintings are Possessed. Now She’s Famous.' Chapter 1: Tracy doesn’t hate people on purpose. She’s not like that. It’s her paintings....
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A narration of the short story - 'My Sister’s Paintings are Possessed. Now She’s Famous.'
Chapter 1:
Tracy doesn’t hate people on purpose. She’s not like that. It’s her paintings. They hate people. I remember her very first one. She was still a kid. She painted a scantily clad woman sitting cross-legged in a field of tall grass, a cluster of threatening clouds looming overhead.
It was quite remarkable; the woman’s auburn hair blowing wistfully in the breeze, as she gazes across the minty meadow stretching over the languid landscape. However, upon closer inspection, something about it was deeply disturbing. For starters, the clouds were moving. It took a while to notice. They’d sift along gingerly, like unholy apparitions, high above the woman in the wayward dress.
My sister was proud of it. So were my parents, who quickly pointed out my obvious lack of artistic merit. Hell, I could barely scribble a stick person, let alone a full-sized painting with blended colors, depth and ingenuity. No one knew how she did it.
Socials:
🔪💜🗡️ Discord - https://discord.gg/b8db8bcD
🤘- https://www.youtube.com/@Father_Nightmare
✖️- https://x.com/FatherNightmare
🏴☠️- https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564920398454
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Chapter 1:
Tracy doesn’t hate people on purpose. She’s not like that. It’s her paintings. They hate people. I remember her very first one. She was still a kid. She painted a scantily clad woman sitting cross-legged in a field of tall grass, a cluster of threatening clouds looming overhead.
It was quite remarkable; the woman’s auburn hair blowing wistfully in the breeze, as she gazes across the minty meadow stretching over the languid landscape. However, upon closer inspection, something about it was deeply disturbing. For starters, the clouds were moving. It took a while to notice. They’d sift along gingerly, like unholy apparitions, high above the woman in the wayward dress.
My sister was proud of it. So were my parents, who quickly pointed out my obvious lack of artistic merit. Hell, I could barely scribble a stick person, let alone a full-sized painting with blended colors, depth and ingenuity. No one knew how she did it.
Socials:
🔪💜🗡️ Discord - https://discord.gg/b8db8bcD
🤘- https://www.youtube.com/@Father_Nightmare
✖️- https://x.com/FatherNightmare
🏴☠️- https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564920398454
Información
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