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@fuckyesparanormal
Cremated remains?
Cathie writes, “This is my brother’s cremated remains, spread from atop a bridge which is about 100 feet to the water below. It was a beautiful sunny day, but this photo is so dark. My daughter was the first to see the eerie image, once the photo was flipped upside down.”
This shows up in picture after
Close-up
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Drawing found on a wall in the abandoned Cane Hill Asylum, Coulsdon, London.
Guiding Death
A man worked alone at a light-house with his fifteen year-old son. One stormy night he realized he was in dire need of supplies; food, water, propane for the generator, and decided to head into town. Since the man lived twenty miles from the nearest neighbor and thirty from the nearest store he thought that it would be best to leave his son alone. He told his son to be safe, to lock the door, and to stay in his room where it was safe.
When he had driven almost thirteen miles he saw a single cloaked figure standing on a hill. He could not make out who or what this figure was through the downpour. Eventually as he drew closer he notice a long scythe, and with a clasp of lightening he saw the hooded figure for what it really was. Frozen in fear the car started to veer off the road. As he managed to regain control he noticed that the figure was beckoning to him.
The man feared more what would happen to his son than himself, so he turned the car around and raced back home. When he got inside he locked the door and called to his son weeping. When he found his son he embraced him fear that this would be the last time he would be able to do so, as he did this he told his son to remain in his room until he called him or mourning came. Just then the door broke to splinters and the figured walked in. In the dimly lit room the man could clearly see the disfigured skull and the long sharp scythe. He knew his time was up and stood to face the figure honorably.
The figure then spoke, “I am sorry to have frightened you on the road; your time has not yet come.”
Flooded with relief the man called to his son and asked why the figure had been beckoning to him.
The figure went on to say, “I merely wished to inquire where I might find your son.”
Life Cycle
The first thing you notice probably won’t worry you much. Just another flaw in the wall, or maybe a bump in the plaster that you hadn’t paid attention to before. It might even look like a shadow. If you’re observant, you might see it move, but you might not.
It’s usually too late by the time you get scared. Your walls will be covered in them— little bumps, like in an old house. They move around like beetles, incredibly fast, writhing and skittering over each other. You may not think the exact word, but the concept will almost definitely occur to you: infected. And it’s not so far off, although “colonized” might be closer.
The thing is, they exist in alternating generations. The first lives in your walls. When you see them, you’re witnessing their death throes. They’ll be gone soon. They die after reproducing.
And one day, you’ll wake up, and you just won’t feel right. Not sick, exactly; just off. Nervous and jittery, like there’s something crawling around under your skin.
A few days later, you’ll realize there is something crawling around under your skin. The doctors won’t believe you, though. You’ll get used to the word “psychosomatic.” You’ll insist they’re wrong, first politely, then urgently, then screaming in their faces as you feel yourself eaten alive, but they won’t listen to you.
Maybe at home, maybe at the hospital, you’ll start to feel lethargic. When you try to move, you’re slow and clumsy. A few hours later, you’ll realize you aren’t tired; you’re paralyzed. You can try to get help, but there’s really no point. They all release the neurotoxin at once. Even if you make it, whoever you call will never understand you. You should probably close your eyes at that point, while you still can, because then they’re going to start burrowing out of your skin.
Okay, I love you guys; I really do, but I'm sick of answering the same question 032480348 times, so for the moment, I've closed my askbox.
Death by volcano and the physics of lava Due to its high density, a person would be unlikely to sink into the lava. Instead they would simply float on the top, being burned to death.
What a mighty freaky looking bastard.
The Wendigo is a purely anthropophagous beast, hungering for human flesh. It will go to any lengths to procure this food, no matter the risk or possibility of injury. The Wendigo craves human flesh and is constantly starving for it (indicated by the beast’s lean, wiry frame). The Wendigo is known to have its preferences: the sweet fat of children, the soft skin of women, the course muscles of men (especially warriors and hunters), or the brittle bones of the elderly. In preparation for long winters (when few travelers are out and about), the Wendigo will stash away large pots filled to the rim with human remains in the highest tree branches. On rare occasions, it will take humans alive and hide them away in its lair, allowing the beast to feed whenever it wants. The Wendigo is more intelligent than many humans, and thus understands the value of storing and saving its food. However, it will only resort to this when food is scarce and it becomes desperate.
Since the Wendigo constantly hungers for human flesh, it wreaks destruction in its pursuit of its chosen prey. It crashes through the forests, all the while uprooting trees, causing game animals to stampede, and causing whirlwinds. The monster is often thought to be the cause of ice storms, tornadoes, and violent winds. All of these weather-related phenomena are believed to signal the Wendigo’s presence.
When the Wendigo hunts, it stalks the victim for long periods. The chosen victim only has a dreadful feeling of being followed. However, the Wendigo has a sadistic streak. It prefers to terrify its victims before moving in for the kill. When it has had enough of stalking the victim, it lets out a growl or a shriek, which resonates through the forest and terrifies the beast’s prey. They panic, firing weapons haphazardly into the brush as the dense forest closes in on them. Eventually, the intended victim succumbs to insanity, running wildly into the forest with abandon. In such a state, they are easy prey for the Wendigo.
The Wendigo has been known to enter cabins and other dwelling, unlocking them from the outside and slaughtering the inhabitants, then proceeding to convert the cabin into its own lair. The Wendigo tends to hibernate for long periods, ranging in length from a few months to years at a time. Once they awaken, they go into a feeding frenzy, and after having eaten enough humans, it retreats to its lair and falls back into hibernation once again.
The Wendigo inhabits the forests of the Great Lakes and Canada. The dreaded Wendigo King lives near the Windigo River in Quebec. Kenora, Ontario is thought to be the “Wendigo Capital of the World” because so many sightings and incidents have taken place there, and it attracted Wendigoes originally because it used to be tribal grounds, with many Native American settlements scattered throughout the area. Most caves, gullies, and canyons in central Canada will provide shelter for the Wendigo.
A Wendigo is rumored to live in the Cave of the Wendigo, near Mameigwass Lake in northern Ontario. Any other area named after the Wendigo, such as Windigo River and Windigo Lake in Ontario, is bound to be inhabited by this monster as well.
The Wendigo’s territory is vast, stretching from the Canadian Rockies and the Arctic Circle in the north, to the Great Lakes regions and the Dakotas. It reigns supreme across the whole of Canada.
Marc Quinn – ‘Self’ (1991)
Cast of own head made with 4.5 litres of his own blood (frozen).
