sleep study horror stories

"I am Yang Jian. By the time you read this, I've already been dead..." A strange parchment, an eye that peeks into the darkness. This is the memoir of a person who survived.

"Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!" "Who said that?" Nan Zhubin raised an eyebrow: "He's right!" ---------------------------- Psychological-themed professional literature. Serious Keywords 1: [Depression] [Personality Disorder] [Hypochondriasis] [PTSD] [Oedipus Complex] [Groupthink], etc. Serious Keywords 2: [Big Five Personality Traits] [Behavioral Correction] [Dream Interpretation] [Sand Box Therapy] [Rational Emotive Therapy], etc.

[Horror-Spieleentwickler: Meine Spiele sind wirklich nicht so gruselig!] Ich hasse Horror. Von den huschenden Geräuschen von Schritten, die hinter mir herjagen, bis zu den leisen, aber beunruhigend kalten Flüstern, die sich um meine Ohren winden... All das. Ich hasse es. So sehr, dass ich anfange zu kotzen, wenn ich eine bestimmte Schwelle erreiche. Und trotzdem bin ich ein Horror-Spieleentwickler. Ein miserabler noch dazu. Also habe ich beschlossen, aufzuhören, angesichts meiner mangelnden Fähigkeiten. Und doch... [Glückwunsch, Sie wurden für das Horror-Spielentwicklungssystem ausgewählt!] Nein, ich will es nicht. Lass mich aufhören. ※ Hinweis: Ihre Welt könnte einige Veränderungen erfahren. Aber keine Sorge! Es ist Teil des Spiels! *** Dies ist eine Geschichte über einen Spieleentwickler, der Horror hasst, aber keine andere Wahl hat, als Spiele zu entwickeln, die gruselig genug sind, um Menschen zu traumatisieren. Sie wollen mich verfluchen, weil ich Sie dazu gebracht habe, sich in die Hose zu machen? Wenn das der Fall ist, wen verfluche ich dann? *** Eine von SCP inspirierte Geschichte mit ihrer eigenen Wendung!

[Horror Game Developer : My games really aren't that scary!] I hate horror. From the skittering sounds of footsteps racing behind me, to the soft yet unnervingly cold whispers curling around my ears... All of it. I hate it. So much so that I start puking whenever I reach a certain threshold. And yet, I am a Horror Game Developer. A crappy one at that. So, given my lack of ability, I decided to quit. And yet... [Congratulations, you've been selected for the Horror Game Developer System!] Nope, I don't want it. Let me quit. ※ Note : Your world might experience some changes. But don't worry! It's part of the game! *** This is a story about a game developer who hates horror, but has no choice but to develop games scary enough to traumatize people. You want to curse me for making you piss your pants? If that's the case, who do I curse? *** An SCP inspired story with its own twist! Discord : https://discord.gg/FK7ZQU3b9p

It all began with a poor orphan who would work every day for long hours to pay for his Aunt's medical bills. When his life begins to fall apart and he is homeless sleeping in an alleyway he hears a robotic voice. {Do you wish to integrate with the Dungeon System} "Yes" he answers, without much to lose. And from then his life had never been the same. He was taken into a dungeon each night to hunt and he began to realise just how little he really knew about the world that was much wider than he thought. Discord Server: https://discord.gg/TtnGfdKanr Note: I do not own cover art

She is the true daughter of a prestigious family in the Federation, who was lost outside and grew up in a garbage heap, and is also a waste with only F-level spiritual power. Her parents' abandonment and favoritism, the exclusion and framing by her green tea fake daughter sister, the cultivation sect in crisis. She can only regain her cultivation and turn the tide by participating in the Federation Planet's 'God Creation Game'! "No way? Someone with only F-level spiritual power can also enter the 'God Creation Game'?" "Maybe just to make up the numbers." "With only 3 attack points, even a gust of wind can kill her, right?" Josh, the sickly waste not favored by everyone, casually summoned a Divine-level Monster in the dimension. Just when everyone thought she was going to kill all sides, she smiled slightly: "Open for fortune-telling, divining the location, weaknesses, and treasures of monsters, looking at dimension feng shui, monster physiognomy, one divination for 3000 points, scan the code to pay, thank you!" Barrage: "What's wrong! 3000 points, what idiot would go there! She's a fraud!" Contestant: "Me me me! I want a reading, I want a reading!" "I was here first!" "Don't cut in line!" Barrage: "......" Are these the star contestants they've fostered with points?

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling

A cat... That is also a warlock... That likes to eat ghosts. --- Mater Evol Heracy was a prideful warlock in his past life. But he successfully escaped his ill-fated to a new world. Unfortunately for him, he has become a cat. Mater found himself in the modern 21st century that filled with horrors in every nook and cranny of this haunted city. Coincidentally, ghosts are exactly what he needs to grow his power. "I shall feasts upon all the horrors and become the one and only Darklord. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" -- https://discord.gg/QMDetEzXaj

[Have you become more learned today?] [Accounting for the capacity of your brain, your study efficiency has been increased to 28 times that of normal.] [The remaining amount of energy you have for studying today, 26 hours.] [You will enter an exhausted state when your energy is depleted and be unable to obtain new information.] [Please relax by using the functions within the system and restore your energy as soon as possible.] With limited energy and the onset of fatigue, the Study Monster had no time to think too much--papers to come! Had the heavens not grant me this system, the unending sea of knowledge would seem like a long night.

38-year-old Shen Qiushan awakens a study system, awarding him a 660 thousand yuan education fund. Yet the first task makes Shen stunned for a while. Please take this year's college entrance examination and enter a top-tier university! Task Rewards: Skill Card*1. Advanced Blind Box*1. Education Fund of 100 million yuan!