Skaro schreef:
hihi creepypasta, ik vind de Russische versie toch leuker :'D :
I check into small hotel a few kilometers from Kiev. It is late. I am tired. I tell woman at desk I want a room. She tells me room number and give key. "But one more thing comrade; there is one room without number and always lock. Don't even peek in there." I take key and go to room to sleep. Night comes and I hear trickling of water. It comes from the room across. I cannot sleep so I open door. It is coming from room with no number. I pound on door. No response. I look in keyhole. I see nothing except red. Water still trickling. I go down to front desk to complain. "By the way who is in that room?" She look at me and begin to tell story. There was woman in there. Murdered by her husband. Skin all white, except her eyes, which were red. I tell her I don't give a shit. Stop the water trickling or give me refund. She gave me 100 ruble credit and free breakfast. Such is life in Moscow
Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind
Rivendell schreef: lol, ik vind dat soort dingen nooit eng. Ik vraag me alleen altijd af hoe nolife je moet zijn om hier al je tijd, moeite en ideeën aan te verspillen.
Soms ben ik het sterkste wijf ter wereld en soms ben ik een kwartelei.
Rivendell schreef: lol, ik vind dat soort dingen nooit eng. Ik vraag me alleen altijd af hoe nolife je moet zijn om hier al je tijd, moeite en ideeën aan te verspillen.