Also! Thanks to all of my new followers that I’ve been gaining over the past few months! I don’t know where all you guys have been coming from, but it’s been nice seeing that number crawl higher and higher. In any case, to all you new guys, sorry I’ve been so inactive! I’ve been pouring all of my creative energy into my novel as of late and haven’t really thought much about the blog. I keep teasing people with the promise of a new creepypasta, but I haven’t really sat down to work on one yet. I’d still really love to, but I need something reeeeeeally worthwhile if I’m going to take time away from this story. I’ve got a few ideas, but they need to be fleshed out a bit before I try and put them on paper. But never fear, I’m still writing, writing, writing, folks and I can guarantee I’ll be sending things your way from time to time. 

I’ve also recently moved to Chicago, so there’s that. The city is kind of incredible and its dirty brick landscape has been inspiring me like mad. So to any of my followers living in Chicago, hello!

Exciting news, folks! I just got published in Sanitarium Magazine!
You can find my story Dead Rat here in issue 6, which just came out today. And, o what a beautiful issue it is! Check it out, pick up a copy and spread the word!
You can buy issue 6 here!
- Jamie Kinn

Exciting news, folks! I just got published in Sanitarium Magazine!

You can find my story Dead Rat here in issue 6, which just came out today. And, o what a beautiful issue it is! Check it out, pick up a copy and spread the word!

You can buy issue 6 here!

- Jamie Kinn

October-December ‘12 Creepypasta Roundup

Oh my! I just realized I never roundup’d the last chunk of stories I wrote last year. They are:

Echoes in Static - A voice speaks to you through your monitor. And as words drip from its static-filled mouth, drift to your rapt ears, your world unravels around you, bit by bit.

Adit - The tunnel in his backyard calls to him. At first glance, it’s just simple stormdrain. But he knows it’s much more than that: It’s the place of his birth.

The Unseen - Christian loves urban exploration, delving into the forgotten corners of humanity’s vast labyrinths. But his most recent expedition brings him deeper into the abyss than he’s ever been, brushing against the Unseen: the foggy world from where all unknowable creatures come.

Red and Blue - Part one of four: Caroline wakes up deep in a swamp she’s never seen before with no recollection of who she is or how she got there. Or, for that matter, how to get home.

Black and Red - Part two of four: Caroline is in love Michael. Well, she thinks she is, anyway. He’s a little weird, though. 

Red and Black - Part three of four: Michael doesn’t know how the book found its way into his possession, but he can’t stop reading it now, can’t get its voice out of his head. Incessant. What does it want?

Black and Blue - Part four of four: Each beat is significant. 

And there we have it!

- Jamie Kinn

Read all my original stories here.

Aaaahhhhh! I commissioned the lovely Lacrimode to draw my character, Iva, AND WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT THAT. HOW PERFECT. @________@
Go give Lacrimode a follow and get a commission while you’re at it. She’s a wonderful lady who deserves all your love and support. And she turns around commission fast, too. I got this back in a about two days. Holy smokes!

Aaaahhhhh! I commissioned the lovely Lacrimode to draw my character, Iva, AND WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT THAT. HOW PERFECT. @________@

Go give Lacrimode a follow and get a commission while you’re at it. She’s a wonderful lady who deserves all your love and support. And she turns around commission fast, too. I got this back in a about two days. Holy smokes!

A writing blog posted a micro fiction challenge (25 words or under) to write a story using the word “piquant”. Here was my submission:

The piquant taste bit at her palate as she swirled the fork in her mouth. He’d been a good neighbor, but an even better meal.

XD

Black and Blue

Red and Blue

Black and Red

Red and Black

Black and Blue

—-

Caroline staggers out of the swamp, her clothes pissing the brackish water onto the ground around her. She holds the hole in her stomach, for fear that her organs might comes spilling out. She doubts that it will make much of a difference if they do; she is dead after all.

Things are coming back to her slowly. She remembers getting sick. She remembers Michael hunched over her, fucking her. She remembers him sucking the life out of her. She can still feel it distantly, like a torch on the horizon. She knows where it is—where he is. She’ll follow it like a beacon, say hello.

She trudges out towards a stream of lights: a road. She wanders through the charcoal-sketch trees in a state of shock. She didn’t mean to leave those two men in the boat that way, screaming in fear. She just didn’t know what else to do, so she slid back into the water. She doesn’t need to breathe anymore, so this wasn’t too much of a problem.

They’re probably still out there, maybe hightailing it back to whatever shack they came from. She wonders, vaguely, what they were doing out there in the first place. Fishing, maybe.

She stumbles out into the road. Michael is somewhere to the north. She can feel him in her chest, where her heart should be. It’s almost like a pulse. Almost.

The pavement is rough and inviting under her feet, each step slopping mud like splatters of blood.

She begins walking.

 

Read More

Red and Black

Red and Blue

Black and Red

Red and Black

Black and Blue

—-

Michael doesn’t exactly remember how he got involved with Daesell or, for that matter, all that black magic that now surrounds him. He knows it has something to do with his great uncle’s strange little bookstore in downtown Sandford. Uncle Bryson’s shop always held some power over him, got into his head somehow. All the books seemed to speak to him, call to him. But one in particular, that little black book he now casually consults, it spoke to him in a voice that demanded rather than suggested like all the others.

He doesn’t know how the book found its way into his possession. Logically, he thinks, he must’ve stolen it, but he doesn’t remember how or when. One day he looked down to realize he was holding it in his hands, reading it. He dropped the book suddenly, leaving it in the middle of the street. But as soon as he got home, it was sitting patiently on his bookshelf, like an obedient pet.

The ideas the book put in his head, it made him a little funny. He started saying and doing strange things, and not just in the privacy of his own apartment, but out in public, people staring at him, horrified, repulsed. He would wake up, blood running from his nose and from gashes in his face, gashes that would mysteriously close up by the time the morning rolled around only a few hours later.

Read More

Okay! Sorry for my sudden and mysterious disappearance! But I’m back!

… For now.

NaNoWriMo went off without a hitch, which, I suppose, shouldn’t have surprised me considering I’ve been writing a short story every week for ten months straight—a feat any writer will tell you is kinda stupid crazy. During that month of insanity, I was given the breath to clear my head and decide what I want to do with the future. I’ve got 40 stories up (soon to be 42 in a few minutes, but I’ll get to that in a moment), which is kind of ridiculous. I could just carry on and keep writing these, one a week, until I go crazy or die—both equally viable—but I’m staring to feel a bit of weariness edge in on the whole process. If you’ve been paying attention, you may have noticed that in recent times I’ve been starting to drag on my deadlines. My stories have been getting shorter, simpler and, dare I say, a little less imaginative. It’s time to shake things up a bit, which is exactly what I plan to do.

Yes, dear followers, I’ve decided it’s time to put the blog on a bit of hiatus. I plan on continuing to post various creepy and atmospheric pictures and, occasionally, a short piece or two, but instead I’m going to start focusing on polishing up the stories I already have with the intention of submitting and, perhaps, getting them published. I’m also going to make my first honest effort at writing a novel. Not start something and get bored, but actually write, finish and edit a novel. Like, hire a freelance editor and everything. Maybe even try to get an agent if I’m REALLY FUCKING LUCKY, haha. 

This could either be really exciting or really soul-crushing. Probably a little bit of both. But I’m actually feeling fairly optimistic.

Anyway! I promised you guys I would write two more stories and I did! They’re the second half of the story I started with Red and Blue and Black and Red. I’m going to post both of them right here and now in a couple minutes, so keep your eyes peeled!

So yeah. There you have it! It’s been super fun, guys. Working on this blog has been one of the most rewarding and creatively strenuous things I’ve ever done, and I’m so glad you were all here to witness the madness. You guys have been nothing but supportive and flat out lovely. 

Is this the end of Jamie Kinn? Fuck no! Is this the end of Jamie Kinn’s Creepypasta Machine? No, no and no. I’m going to need breaks while working on this novel, so you better believe there’s going to continue to be stories, and, as I said, I fully intend on continuing to reblog and post various picture and other stories. Plus there’s always my stupidly large back-catalogue to thumb through, should you ever feel the urge. Consider this hiatus my cocoon. Who knows? I may emerge as a terrible, malformed creature of unspeakable horror. With a book deal.

Stay in touch! Because I’m not going anywhere, not really.

I love you aaaaaaallllllllllll~ ♥

- Jamie Kinn

"Each beat is significant."

Black and Red

Red and Blue

Black and Red

Red and Black

Black and Blue

—-

Caroline can’t remember the last time she was so happy. She’s been sleeping normally, eating normally. Feeling normal. She feels for the first time since high school like she can actually talk to someone and carry out a normal conversation. And it all started when she started dating Michael.

She never saw herself being with someone like him, someone so confident and fearless. He is everything that intimidates her in people. Loud, challenging, sometimes overwhelmingly cheerful. When she talks to him, he gives her his full attention and actually listens, actually participates. And it scares her.

But she’s getting better.

He’s started staying over at her place now. Actually staying the night, staying until morning and then helping with breakfast. His stuff litters her bathroom and bedroom floor. They’ve gone to his place a few times, but Caroline doesn’t like it very much. Dank little hole in the wall studio apartment way across town. It’s dark and the whole building smells bad. It reminds her of her old dorm back in Sandford U. with her terrible roommate and her roommate’s obnoxious boyfriend. She hated that dorm, too afraid to say anything when they walked all over her, her privacy, her kindness and consideration.

But Michael isn’t like that. He cares about her.

Read More

Okay! I’m posting the second part in my four-part creepypasta cycle, Black and Red. Here’s the first part, Red and Blue, in case you haven’t read it, (though it’s not necessary to enjoy it). 

Expect to see it up in a couple minutes! 

- Jamie Kinn

Red and Blue

Red and Blue

Black and Red

Red and Black

Black and Blue

—-

She wakes up facedown in the mud, blowing bubbles. And when she sits up, she sits up suddenly, taking a deep gasp of air and screams in terror and confusion. Her world has been torn out from under her and now she is in the swamp.

The water is deep and her legs are dangling over the edge, buried in black muck. She draws them up under her and clambers to her feet, fingernails digging into the trunk of the tree growing beside her. It is dark but the moon is shining through the sparse branches overhead, creating patches and pools of pale white light.

She clutches at her chest and covers her mouth, stifling another scream. How did she get here? One moment in her bed and the next half submerged in brackish water, the taste of salt and grit in her mouth. She’s mostly naked, but the air is warm and humid and clings to her skin like a damp cloth, smothering her, gagging her. The water smells putrid and it makes her stomach churn.

She has to get out of here. She has to get home.

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SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

I got so caught up with NaNoWriMo, I completely forgot to post the creepypasta I wrote for this week! I win all the idiot awards. All of them.

And it’s sad, because I was so happy I actually finished this one early, too, haha. Bluh. C’est la vie, I guess.

Anyway, this is the first in a four-parter. Its called Red and Blue and the other three will be Black and Red, Red and Black, Black and Blue, which I’ll be posting in the coming weeks. 

Enjoy!

The Unseen

Behind every building, between every fence, there is a space. Some are graffiti-choked, garbage strewn across grass and concrete. Some are barren, and, besides the surrounding structures and detritus building up around the edges, you would swear no human had ever taken a step into its sphere.

Strange things grow out of these places, naturally, like weeds out of a crack in the sidewalk. Holes that appear overnight that seem to plummet straight through the center of the Earth, bottomless, lightless. Structures built out of rebar and concrete that look eerily human. Slight warps in time and space, like the shimmering of summer heat.

These places and things exist everywhere, in the corner of you backyard, behind your workplace, in the storm drain beneath you street, in the crawlspace that you don’t know about. They exist because you don’t visit them, because you don’t know they are there. 

They are spaces were the Seen becomes the Unseen.

Sometimes lives will seep through these spaces because it is here that the walls between worlds are thinnest. Where the dark meets the darker-than-dark.

The border wanes like the surface of a soap bubble, weakening and growing thinner and thinner until, finally, it pops.

And then something comes crawling through.

- Bryson Hesse, The Unseen, unpublished

—-

Christian slithered through the crack in the wall and landed feet-first on the concrete. The slap of his soles echoed around him, through the dark space. He swung his flashlight around to the far wall as he righted himself, shifting his backpack back up to his shoulders.

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Got a new story for you guys! It’s called The Unseen and I’ll be posting it a couple minutes.

I was originally going to do a big infodump about the inner working of the Sandford/Willow Hills universe, but decided to do it through story instead. So consider this an intro to some of the more abstract laws that rule this universe. Sandford and Willow Hills 101 if you will. Derp. 

Bryson Hesse, the dude that “wrote” the excerpts, is a staple figure in this universe. You guys haven’t met him yet, but expect to see him pop up at some point. Huzzah!

- Jamie

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